Page 74 of Of Stars and Lightning (Sun and Shadows #1)

Sawyer took her spot in front of the table and chalice, facing Emberdon, as Sol stood on her opposite side to face her. Cas and Nina were beside her, and they both took a subtle step closer to her side as she felt herself begin to tremble.

“You ready?” Sawyer met her gaze.

Not giving herself time to say otherwise, Sol nodded.

As if Erriadin itself responded, a soft patter of rain began around them.

First, Sawyer sliced a thin slit along her palm with her iron dagger.

She then held it over the obsidian chalice, and her blood slowly dripped into it, the sound merging with the rainfall.

“Emberdon, hear me as your daughter,” Sawyer began, closing her eyes.

She let out a breath. "Use me, Sawyerlyn Semmena Yarrow, as your vessel to bless my kin.” As her name left her lips, her blood began to vaporize into golden shimmers. She looked to Sol. “Say your name.”

For a second, Sol hesitated. Not due to lack of trust, for once. But due to the finality of the situation. There was no going back once she told them. She would break the one rule her mother left her.

“S...Soleil,” she said. She held her cousin’s gaze. "Soleil Monserrat Yarrow.”

As soon as Sol uttered her name, the rain stopped. The wind halted, the birds stopped their songs. It was as if the world took an inhale and held it. Sol did as well.

Especially as absolutely nothing happened.

Sawyer took her hand and gently cut along her palm to match her own wound, then joined their hands to hover over the chalice. Her cousin’s blood had been dripping gold before, but as soon as it mixed with Sol’s, the magic seemed to recoil.

No one spoke. For a second, they all just watched the chalice. Sol didn’t know what to expect, but it hadn’t been the stillness that transpired.

Then, she heard it.

Like that day so long ago when they confirmed her lineage in that ancient conference room, voices filled her head. She braced her free hand on the table as her temples tightened.

“Soleil Monserrat, you lie,” the voices chanted over and over in her mind in an unsettling crescendo, growing angrier and louder with each passing second. “Soleil, speak your proper name.”

Sol tore her hand from Sawyer’s and grabbed her head in agony as an incessant ache spread from her forehead down to her shoulders.

“Sol.” Cas instantly grabbed her elbow to steady her as Nina stepped closer.

“Soleil of the Yarrow clan, tell us your full name.” The voices ebbed and echoed with relentless fury.

Sol groaned as she sank to her knees.

“What are they saying, Sol?” Sawyer rounded the table and knelt beside her.

Soleil Soleil Soleil.

Sol knelt all the way forward and pressed her forehead to the ground, aching for the cool stone to calm the throbbing.

“Sawyer, close the ritual,” Nina ordered. “Now.”

Sol vaguely heard her Court call her and murmur other things through the haze that clouded her thoughts. It wasn’t until a damp cloth was pressed to her bleeding palm that the voices halted.

Life and rain resumed beyond the temple, and Sol released her held breath as well. She slumped to the ground, completely drained of all energy and motivation to stand.

Cas carefully lifted her head off the ground and held her shoulders. “What did they say, Sol?”

She closed her eyes and muttered, “That I was lying.”

A beat of silence.

“That you were lying?” Sawyer asked.

“To speak my proper name.”

Tentatively, Sol sat up and leaned against the table stand.

Nina frowned. “Why would they say that?”

“Your full name, paternal included, is irrelevant. You should only require the Yarrow, since it’s the oldest bloodline.” Alix added, running a hand through his hair. He knelt beside Cas. “The other original bloodlines that predate the Yarrows were all annihilated throughout the years.”

Sol didn’t have much to offer the conversation. Her mind was blank and foggy.

“What if she does need her father’s name?” Sawyer’s jaw tightened as she looked down at them.

Sol shrugged. “I don’t know it.”

The silence that followed her statement was heavy with terror. Her primary duty as queen was to close the Jinn gate—something she couldn’t do without magic. Her blood was useless.

Useless.

She clutched her chest. “Oh gods, what if I need it?”

“There is no way—” Alix stood, pacing around while the rain recoiled from him. “There is no way.”

“Who did Irene tangle herself with,” Nina whispered.

“Where would we even begin the search?” Yavenharrow.

Sol looked at her to say so but stopped.

The pain was unlike any other. It was slightly like when her birthmark flared, reminiscent of the way her body ached like the days after the final duel.

But it was hotter, doused with oil and lit on fire.

Sol clutched her hand and screamed, falling back on the ground. Her palm felt like it was dipped in hot metal, in an inferno, as if Emberdon himself grabbed it.

Then, all at once, it stopped.

Sol opened her eyes, the ringing in her ears making her unable to decipher what her Court said. Just as Sol tried to sit up, Sawyer pointed at her palm.

Lora’s blood bond was gone.