Page 11 of Crowned by the Shadow (Bound by the Veil #5)

Chapter

Eight

Senara

The forest surrounding us was unfamiliar, tall pines with needles that glinted silver in the moonlight. I took a shaky breath, trying to orient myself. The pendant hung heavy against my chest, a constant reminder of all we’d lost and all that remained at stake.

“Do you know where we are?” I asked Thorn, who was already scanning our surroundings with narrowed eyes.

“Northern edge of the Whispering Woods,” he replied after a moment. “Sebastian sent us far from the capital, at least a day’s journey on foot, and we’ve covered a decent amount of ground since then as well.” His gaze shifted to me, searching. “Are you alright?”

The question nearly broke me. My father, a man I’d just met, just begun to hope to know, had sacrificed himself so we could escape.

The hollow ache in my chest threatened to consume me, but I couldn’t surrender to it.

Not now. Not after everything else I’d been through.

Yet, the temptation was there. I wouldn’t let this be the thing that broke me though, not while Wyn’s life was still at stake. Not to mention the rest of the world.

I cleared my through and said, “I’m standing.

That’s enough.” We both knew that Thorn could sense exactly how I was doing through the bond, but there was something more intimate about him asking that I appreciated.

I also appreciated him not pushing for more when I wasn’t sure I could give it without breaking down. Again.

Thorn nodded, understanding in his eyes. “We should make camp. Rest while we can.”

“We don’t have time?—”

“Senara.” His voice was gentle but firm. “You’re exhausted. I’m exhausted. We’ve been walking for hours after fighting more than one battle. We won’t help Wyn by collapsing before we reach her.”

He was right, though I hated to admit it. My limbs felt leaden, my mind foggy with fatigue and grief. I nodded reluctantly.

We found a small clearing sheltered by a ring of ancient oaks. Thorn gathered wood while I cleared a space for a fire. The familiar tasks helped ground me, pulling me back from the edge of despair.

Once the fire was crackling between us, Thorn pulled out the few supplies he’d grabbed during our escape, a water skin, some dried meat, and a small bundle wrapped in cloth.

I had no idea when he’d grabbed any of it, or where he’d even found it.

Part of me wanted to ask if it was from Fenvalur’s chambers and if so then maybe we shouldn’t touch it because the mystery meat could be anything, but the empty pit of my stomach wouldn’t let the words slip between my lips, instead I asked a different question as he carefully unwrapped the bundle. “What’s that?”

“Something I took from Fenvalur’s chambers.” He revealed a small, leather-bound book with tarnished silver clasps. “His personal journal. I thought it might contain information about his discoveries or his plans.”

Hope flickered within me. “Have you looked at it yet?”

“Only briefly while we were there. Most of it is in ancient fae script. Paranoid bastard. I can read some, but not all.” He handed it to me.

I flipped through the pages, recognizing the spidery handwriting from the notes we’d found earlier. Most was incomprehensible to me, but certain phrases caught my eye.

“He was obsessed,” I murmured. I traced my fingers over the silver mark that spiraled across my skin.

Once, I’d hidden it, ashamed and afraid of the death sentence that it carried in the human lands.

Now it felt like a part of me I was still only beginning to understand, and every day seemed to add an extra layer of complication to it.

“We should try the pendant again,” I said, setting aside the journal, not wanting to let any other thoughts be wasted on that vile fae. “See if we can locate Wyn more precisely.”

Thorn nodded, shifting closer. “Do you still have her charm?”

I pulled the small grass weaving from my pocket. It was frayed at the edges now, but still intact, still imbued with Wyn’s essence. Placing it in my palm, I cupped my other hand around the pendant.

“Focus on her,” Thorn reminded me. “On your connection.”

I closed my eyes, picturing Wyn’s face. Her curious eyes and her gentle smile filled my mind’s eye. I thought of her laugh, the way she’d excitedly explain magical theories I barely understood. The way she’d stood by me, believed in me, even when I hadn’t believed in myself.

“Find her,” I whispered to the pendant. “Show me where she is.”

The metal warmed against my skin. A familiar tingle spread up my arm, into my chest, behind my eyes. The world fell away.

Darkness. Cold stone. The taste of iron, of blood, on my tongue.

Blink.

I was looking through Wyn’s eyes.

Sitting huddled in a corner, her silver hair fluttered in the edges of her vision thanks to a draft coming from somewhere, the strands now dulled with dust and blood.

Her wrists were bound with shackles that glowed with strange runes.

Despite the weight in her body, the lethargy I could sense filling her, she remained alert, watching.

A door opened. Light spilled across the floor, burning her eyes and illuminating a cell carved from obsidian crystal. A tall figure entered. Eldric. His face was impassive as he regarded his prisoner.

“Your friends are coming for you,” he said, his voice echoing strangely in the crystalline chamber. “They don’t understand what they’re walking into.”

Wyn lifted her chin. “Neither do you, if you think Senara will be stopped by your traps.” Anger flared bright and hot within her, but so did dread, an awful, cold trepidation that almost quashed the anger she felt but she held firm to the emotion.

Eldric laughed, the sound hollow and bitter.

“I’m counting on her persistence. The Eclipse Child must come to the Obsidian Keep.

It may as well be written in the stars.” He stepped closer, kneeling before her.

“But you already know that, don’t you? Your research into the ancient texts.

.. you’ve pieced it together. Or are you not as smart as I thought? ”

The words were on Wyn’s lips, her retort, but she bit the inside of her cheek in an attempt to remain defiant, and not give him the answer or general response he wanted. The flicker of fear that skated up and down her spine was enough to make me enraged though.

“Tell me,” Eldric continued, “did your friend ever tell you about the previous Eclipse Child?”

Wyn’s composure cracked. “What are you talking about?”

“Ask him,” Eldric said, rising. “Ask him about Fiona, the last Moon Marked who tried to stop the Void Dragon Empress. Ask him what happened when the stars last aligned.”

Eldric’s hand whipped out faster than a blade and connected with Wyn’s head, his fingers digging in to her temples.

The scene shifted. Disoriented, I found myself in a different chamber, one that was larger and much grander. There was also a sterility to it, though.

A war room.

Maps covered the walls, and a massive table dominated the center, scattered with scrolls and artifacts.

Eldric stood before a window that looked out over a landscape of twisted black crystal. Beyond, storm clouds churned, shot through with veins of purple lightning.

“The convergence approaches,” he said to someone I couldn’t see. “The void grows restless.”

“The girl isn’t ready,” came the reply, a voice that was familiar enough that I should be able to place it, but couldn’t. “She hasn’t unlocked the full power of the Mark.”

“She will when she has no choice.” Eldric turned, revealing a male standing in the shadows, his face concealed by the hooded cloak he wore. “When her friend’s life hangs in the balance.”

“And if she fails? If the binding fails? If she doesn’t love me enough?”

Eldric’s smile was terrible to behold. “Then the Empress returns, and we take our rightful place at her side.”

The vision shattered. I gasped, falling forward. Thorn caught me, his face tight with concern.

“What did you see?”

I struggled to catch my breath, the images still burning behind my eyes. “Wyn. She’s alive, but imprisoned in the Obsidian Keep.” I swallowed hard. “Eldric is waiting for us, for me. He wants me there.”

Thorn cursed softly. “It’s a trap, then.”

“Yes, but not just for us.” I looked up at him, the horror of what I’d witnessed settling into my bones.

“He’s planning something bigger. Something about a convergence, a binding, and the Empress.

Eldric showed Wyn something. He gave her a vision, and he implied that Van or Volker knew the last Eclipse Child. Someone named Fiona.”

The name hung in the air between us, heavy with unspoken significance. Thorn’s expression shifted from confusion to shock.

“That’s impossible,” he said. “The last Eclipse Child lived centuries ago.”

“How old is Van? Or Volker for that matter?” I asked.

Thorn opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I... don’t know. They have both been around the courts for as long as I can remember, but fae lifespans are long. Still, centuries...”

The pendant pulsed in my hand, drawing my attention back to it. Without conscious thought, I wrapped my fingers around it, closing my eyes.

A meadow bathed in twilight. Two moons hung in the sky: one silver, one blood red. A solar eclipse in progress.

A woman stood at the center of the meadow, her skin adorned with silver markings identical to mine. Her hair was darker, her features sharper, but the resemblance was unmistakable.

Fiona.

Beside her stood a younger man. His face was less lined, his eyes were brighter, and though I knew the face, I couldn’t seem to connect it to a name, as though there was something actively blocking me.

As soon as I looked away from him the memory of his face vanished from my mind, but when I looked back it was as clear as day.

The two of them faced a tear in the fabric of reality, a vertical slash of darkness that writhed and pulsed. It didn’t just look evil; it exuded it, to the point that if I hadn’t known this was a vision, I’d swear I could feel it crawling over my skin.

“It’s too late,” the man said, his voice thick with desperation. “The binding has failed. She’s breaking through.” It wasn’t just desperation in his voice, though, but disappointment.

Fiona shook her head, determination etched into every line of her body. “Then we fight.”

“You can’t fight her, Fiona! No one can!”

“Watch me.” She stepped forward, raising her hands.

The markings on her skin blazed with silver light.

But everywhere my gaze scanned, I couldn’t see the tinge of gold that I associated with my own markings.

“I am the child of the eclipse, born of sun and moon. My power is that of balance, of harmony. I reject your chaos, Empress of the Void!”

The tear widened. Darkness spilled out, coalescing into a form both beautiful and terrible, a woman with scales like obsidian, eyes like dying stars, wings that blotted out the moons.

“Little halfling,” the Empress crooned, her voice resonating on multiple planes. “Your light is nothing against my darkness.”

She reached out with clawed hands. Fiona screamed as shadows wrapped around her, consuming the silver light of her marks.

“No!” The man lunged forward, but was thrown back by an invisible force.

The Empress laughed as Fiona’s body crumpled; the light fading from her eyes. “The Eclipse Child falls, as she always must. The cycle continues.”

The nameless male crawled to Fiona’s side, cradling her broken form. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I failed you. I should have found another way.”

Fiona’s hand trembled as she touched his face. “Not your fault,” she gasped. “Next time... tell her... everything together... the key... the mirror and the pendant…”

Her hand fell. The markings on her skin dimmed to ashen gray.

The Empress stepped fully through the tear, surveying the world before her with ancient hunger. “Now begins my reign.”

The figure looked up, tears streaming down his face, hatred burning in his eyes. “I will stop you. If it takes a thousand years, I will find a way.”

“You are nothing,” she said dismissively. “Less than nothing.”

With a casual gesture, she sent a wave of darkness toward him. But before it struck, a pulse of silver light erupted from Fiona’s body—her last gift, her last protection.

He vanished. The Empress howled in rage.

And in pain, I realized belatedly.

The vision had already moved on, but I could have sworn that I saw her injured by that same blast of light that transported…him.

The scene reformed then, not just once or twice, but into glimpses across time. The same man wandering through different ages, different courts, always searching, always watching the stars. Waiting for the next Eclipse Child to be born.

Waiting for me.

I came back to myself with a gasp, tears streaming down my face. The pendant fell from my numb fingers, landing in the dirt between Thorn and me.

“Senara?” Thorn’s voice seemed to come from very far away. “What happened? What did you see?”

“She won last time,” I whispered. “He was there when the Empress last broke through. He tried to help the Eclipse Child before me, Fiona. But they failed. She died.”

“Who?” Thorn looked at me expectantly. “Who was there?”

The name was on the tip of my tongue and yet the harder I fought to say it, the further it slipped from my mental grasp, if I ever had a grasp on it in the first place.

“I-I don’t remember.” I sighed with frustration before I added, “Why would someone keep something like that a secret? Why not tell us this?”

“Guilt, maybe. Or fear.” I stared into the fire, seeing echoes of that ancient battle. My mouth tried to form the name I knew, but all I ended up actually saying was, “He watched Fiona die. He’s been carrying that for centuries.”

Thorn was silent for a long moment. Then, “What did you mean about the mirror and the pendant?”

“Fiona’s last words. She told him that everything together was the key, but mentioned the mirror and pendant specifically.” I closed my fingers around the pendant. “Can you give me the mirror?”

He nodded, reaching for the parcel I’d been carrying and carefully unwrapped it, revealing the Starforged Mirror.

In the firelight, it gleamed with an inner radiance, the stars embedded in its surface twinkling like real celestial bodies. I reached for it hesitantly.

The moment my fingers touched the frame, the pendant at my throat flared with light. The mirror responded, its surface rippling like water. Together, they created a harmony of power that resonated through my entire being.

“The key,” I whispered.

Thorn’s eyes were wide. “The key to what?”

I looked up at him, newfound determination burning away my exhaustion and grief. “To stopping the Empress. To saving Wyn. To ending this cycle once and for all.”