Page 165 of Stormvein

Lisandra’s expression turns thoughtful. “I’ve never heard of that before, but with the combined power of four masters working together? Maybe? Ancient texts speak of boundaries between worlds being permeable under certain conditions.”

“What kind of conditions?” I ask.

“Alignment of powers, mostly. Telren would be able to tell you more.”

That aligns with what we’ve observed between Ellie’s power and mine. How our combined energies affected Sereven’s crystal in a way mine couldn’t do alone, as well as how effective my healing was. If four Veinblood masters aligned their powers toward one dedicated purpose …

“Do you want to ask anything else?” I turn to Ellie, who shakes her head.

"Wait. There’s something else." Lisandra’s voice stops me as I walk toward the door, my hand already reaching for the handle. Something in her tone makes me turn back.

She steps forward until the chain at her wrists pulls taut.

“One of our spies within the Authority reported something years ago. A phrase overheard between Sereven and his inner council. He said that the shadow cannot be allowed to find the storm, or all we’ve built collapses.”

“When was this?” I don’t allow anything to show in my tone. I don’t want her to know how much this interests me.

“Seven years ago, maybe. It seemed meaningless at the time, just another cryptic statement from a man obsessed with control. But after witnessing how he reacted to seeing you both, I remembered it.”

“Shadow and storm,” Ellie repeats. “Like the prophecy. Where shadow leads, storm will follow.”

“The prophecy began circulating about five years after Sacha’s death. People across Meridian were reporting similar dreams and visions.”

“Which means the prophecy emerged about two years after the child disappeared,” Ellie says.

“Yes, that’s right. It started with scattered dreams. Farmers, healers, even children. People with no connection to each other describing the same imagery. Shadow and storm. The tower. A silver-eyed stranger. As they gained momentum, Sereven fought to suppress them. The Authority executed dream-speakers who shared what they’d seen publicly.”

Lisandra looks at me.

“You know he won’t wait, don’t you? He’ll come for Stonehaven, and soon. When he does, he won’t lead the assault himself. That’s never been his way. He’ll direct the attack from elsewhere.”

“Where?”

She thinks for a second. “Thornspire Keep would be the most logical choice. Close enough to oversee the attack, fortified enough to protect him with a small force.”

I know Thornspire Keep. It’s a small outpost approximately a day’s ride from Stonehaven. Former home of the Earthvein bloodline, repurposed by the Authority after the purges.

"How confident are you of that assessment?"

"It’s what I would do in his position. You know him better than I do. He hasn’t changed. After what happened at Blackstone Ridge, and how close you got to him, he won’t risk another direct confrontation with you."

I consider her reasoning. It matches what I remember of Sereven’s tactical approach. He prioritizes control over engagement. Whether her assessment is offered to manipulate us or genuinely help remains uncertain, but the logic itself is sound.

“Why tell us this?” Ellie asks. “After everything you’ve done, why provide information that could help us now?”

Lisandra holds her gaze. “Because I never wanted destruction. Only survival and protection of everyone in Stonehaven. Now that strategy has failed. Sereven will be coming anyway, with forces big enough to destroy everything.”

“Do you think providing this information absolves you?” My voice is soft.

“No. But it might prevent the complete annihilation of the Veinwardens. Whatever punishment awaits me, I never sought the destruction of everything we’ve fought for.” She looks between us. “Has a decision been made about my fate?”

“It has.”

“And?”

“Death. Two days from now.” I don’t soften the judgment.

Her composure wavers—a barely perceptible flinch. For a moment, I see past the mask to the woman beneath. Older, more fragile than she wants to appear, and very aware of her own mortality. Then the control snaps back into place.