Page 49 of Between These Broken Hearts (Cursed Stars #2)

The journey to the oracle is exactly as Crissa showed me. She projected the image of the journey into my mind, taking me down

the dirt road on horseback and through the deep woods toward the rising sun. She showed me the mountain pass as it would look

as it perfectly framed the morning light and the steep path up the side she said I’d have to follow to the plateau of contemplation.

From there, she said I would have to “follow my heart” to come face-to-face with the oracle.

As I climb the barren mountainside toward the plateau, my heart thuds heavily in my chest, exertion from the hike and wild

nerves making me tremble. I’ve been watching to make sure I’m not being followed. I haven’t seen anyone, but I can’t shake

this feeling. I keep craning my neck to look over my shoulder to make sure someone—or, worse, some thing —isn’t at my back.

Just keep going , I tell myself as I reach for a gnarled root to hoist myself up.

In the short hours I let myself sleep last night, I dreamed of a woman with long, colorless hair floating on the breeze around her as she sat on my chest and screeched in my face.

She pressed her lips to mine and stole the air from my lungs.

Her soft fingers dug into my neck as she cut off my air supply.

Upon waking, I knew who she was. The Banshee. Abriella explained it all when she told me the story of how she got me back

from Mordeus.

The Banshee visits when death is coming for you.

Of course it’s coming. You traded away your life.

But it’s one thing to know that intellectually and quite another to feel the life being drawn from your lungs.

When I spot the plateau, I speed up, ready to leave the steep incline and catch my breath on level ground. I reach for the

final ledge and hoist myself up, rolling from my side to my back and away from the edge.

It’s when I lie there with my eyes closed that I know for sure. I’m not alone. Haven’t been this whole time. But I’ve also not been in danger.

“You can show yourself.” I push up onto my palms, chest heaving as I stare ahead—right at the spot where I feel the presence

of one very angry Chosen king.

Kendrick’s form flickers into view before he becomes fully corporeal.

“I realize you don’t remember, but you did this at Feegus Keep as well. Do you make a habit of following people?”

“Only when they’re putting themselves in unnecessary danger.” He offers me a hand and helps me from the ground. “I would’ve

shown myself sooner, but you were clearly set on doing this alone. Which is something you apparently make a habit of.” A muscle in his jaw ticks in irritation, but I ignore it. Someday he will appreciate that I stepped out of the way so he could claim his fate.

“You didn’t tell me it was such a journey to get here,” I say, brushing the rocky dust off my pants.

“I didn’t think I needed to since we were supposed to come together .”

I ignore this and give all my attention to my surroundings. As I walk to the edge of the plateau, my stomach flips at the

sight of the drop. One wrong step and I’ll plunge thousands of feet down into the rocky ravine below. “I thought it would

be better this way.”

“Jas...” His boots scuff the ground as he steps closer. “Jasalyn.”

Slowly, I lift my gaze to meet his, and the pain on his face cleaves me in two. I don’t want to hurt him. I want to make this

easier for everyone.

He grips my shoulders. “Would you stop being so gods-damned selfless.”

“I don’t want you to have to choose between me and Elora. I don’t want you to have to choose between me and the future you’ve

worked your whole life to see come to pass.” Especially when I might not be here in a few days’ time.

“How do you not understand”—his callused fingers sweep up the side of my neck, then slide into my hair until he’s cupping

my face—“that I’ve already chosen?”

“What if it’s the wrong choice? What if in two days you realize it was a never a choice at all?”

“Don’t give up on me,” he pleads, expression bleak. “Not now. Not when we’ve come this far.”

I could tell him about the Banshee’s visit, her screeches a promise that death is coming soon.

I could tell him the future Crissa offered me and why I can’t bring myself to take it.

I could tell him how much I love him and how scared I am of what tomorrow might bring.

But I don’t. I don’t have enough time to marinate in my feelings.

I don’t even have enough time to fix what I broke.

“Can we talk about this after I see the oracle?”

He studies me for a long time, as if part of him knows I’m putting off a conversation I never intend to have. “Sure. I’ll

go in first.”

I look around and realize even after coming all this way on my own, I have no idea where the oracle is. “Go in where?”

He points to the spot in the earth that looks like nothing more than a puddle. “She’s down there.”

“Is it a portal?”

“Not exactly.” He shrugs. “Actually, I don’t know for sure what you would call it. Come here. Look at it from directly above.”

I stand on the opposite side of the puddle and peer down into the pool—into the ice-blue, swirling depths. “How does she talk

to you?”

“Telepathically. It’s not always words. Sometimes it’s images. Sometimes it’s like you’re watching a play underwater.”

“Can you breathe down there?”

He shakes his head. “No. Some think that’s why the oracle chose the water—so their time with her can’t drag on. Sometimes

when people want to draw out the visit, they stay under too long and pass out.” He gives my hand a quick squeeze. “Back up

a bit.”

I hold my breath as he steps into the puddle, water splashing around his ankles. His face falls.

“Was something supposed to happen?” I ask, looking at his wet boots.

“She won’t see me,” he says, flexing his hands at his sides.

I frown. “Are you sure this is the right spot?”

He swallows. “Yeah. I am.”

It’s hard to believe anything else could happen if I step into that puddle, but I didn’t come all this way to keep my feet

dry. “Let me try.”

He steps out of the water, disappointment and worry written all over his face. “If she doesn’t consider you Eloran—”

I don’t hear the rest of his warning because I’m dropping down into a vortex, the world around me disappearing.

There’s nothing but darkness all around me. I turn and flail in the water, trying to push myself back to the surface, but

I’m stuck. There is no up or down. No surface, no bottom.

Calm, child. The words are spoken into my mind, the voice soothing and melodic.

What is this? I ask, flailing. Why is it so dark?

Because if you want to see your future, you first have to face your fears. You need to sit in the dark until you become it. You need to stop seeking nothing but sunlight when your

gifts are born of the shadows.

I stop kicking and will my racing heart to slow. The darkness reminds me of his dungeons. I don’t bother explaining who he is. I have no doubt she knows.

Why? It could remind you of a night in your lover’s arms or of your sister’s court, of her power. The darkness could be a chance to shine your light. Why give it to him?

It’s not that easy.

It’s not that complicated either. Tell me why you’re here.

I’m looking for the witch I made a deal with. Everyone always speaks of the oracle as a female, and I always pictured a delicate fae female, sitting so serene, but she

isn’t a person at all. She’s a presence. And yet there’s no doubt in my mind she is female. I traded my immortal life—every day after my eighteenth birthday—for a magical ring, and I need to get out of the deal to

save my sister. Can you tell me where to find the witch?

The darkness seems to spin, and suddenly I’m in the throne room at the Midnight Palace and Erith, Patriarch of the Seven,

is speaking with Mordeus, hands clasped as they make a deal.

But then it’s not Erith. It’s the witch. And I know. I know as surely as I know myself that Erith and the witch are one and

the same.

Erith is an Echo. Like his daughter.

Which means I’m not looking for a witch at all. It was never some elderly woman from Elora. It wasn’t even a faerie glamoured

to look human. It was Erith slipping into some unsuspecting human’s skin so I’d trust him.

If I want to get out of my deal, I need to find Erith .

Do you know what I can offer him? What does he want more than my life and my immortality? There’s nothing but empty silence for far too long. Please. I’m trying to save my sister and her court. If Mordeus takes over, I fear it will be the end of both.

When the words come, they are in my mind and somehow radiate inside me, like music. There’s nothing you have that Erith wants for himself. He is using you so Mordeus will get him what he desires—power, a crown, and a court of his own to rule.

I thought Mordeus planned to take my sister’s court. Will he share it with Erith?

Mordeus will share nothing, but once the shadow court is back in his control, he will reward Erith for his loyalty by using his legions

to usurp the Wild Fae throne for the Patriarch of the Seven.

Misha’s court?

The court is vulnerable without a queen to balance the power. Erith and Mordeus will work together to exploit that weakness and Erith will finally have the power he has craved for so long.

I’m so busy trying to process this that I nearly miss her next words as she pours them into my mind.

Unless you offer to kill your sister and then find a way to give Erith the Unseelie throne, you have nothing to give that

he wants more than what Mordeus has offered him.

My panic surges. Nothing to offer him. There’s no getting out of this deal.

No. I can’t think about that right now. I need to get back home. I need to warn Misha about what they have planned.

I flutter my legs to kick to the surface, but a vision floods my mind, and I freeze. The Midnight Palace is on fire. Flames

lick at the starless night sky, flames so tall and so hot they’re unaffected by the pouring rain. The gates are down and bodies

litter the lawn. Hundreds of soldiers in olive-green uniforms file into every door, through every window with torches, swords

at the ready, the symbol of their allegiance to Mordeus tattooed on their necks.

My sister... my sister is strung up on the wall, her lifeless eyes looking into the distance as her palace burns behind

her.