Page 73 of Stormvein (The Veinbound Trilogy #2)

“We need to talk to her first. She saw Sereven’s reaction to me. To my name. She might know something.”

She’s right, and I hate that she’s right.

As much as I want to leave Lisandra to rot in that cell until her trial, she may be our only source of information about things that happened while I was imprisoned.

Everything she says will need to be verified, every claim checked against other sources, but it’s a starting point.

“After we’ve discovered what information might already exist within Stonehaven. I don’t want to rely solely on the word of a proven traitor.”

Varam returns then. “Lisandra is secured. Four guards on rotation.”

“Good. Do you know whether there are any copies of the full Veinblood Prophecy kept here?”

“I believe so.”

“Could you bring it to me?”

“Of course.” He nods, and departs.

While we wait, Ellie moves around the room, stopping at the maps spread out across the table. I cross to the door and ask the guards outside to arrange for food to be brought, along with hot water so we can clean off the travel dirt.

“Do you think we’ll find anything in the prophecy?”

“I don’t know. But Sereven recognized your name, and my dream said that truths will be revealed. There must be a reason.”

She falls silent, tracing her finger over the map. I cross the room and crouch in front of the hearth to light the fire, bringing some much-needed warmth to the space. It doesn’t take long before Ellie leaves her position by the table to take a seat nearby, leaning toward the flames.

Varam returns shortly after with a wooden case containing the scroll. He places it on the table and glances between us.

“The leaders are going to want to know what happened at Blackstone Ridge.”

“It will keep until tomorrow. Go and rest. I feel you’re going to need it for the days ahead.”

“If you need me?—”

“I will call for you. Go, Nul’shar.”

He hesitates for a second longer, then quietly leaves us alone. Clearing a space on a small table near the hearth, I open the case, and remove the scroll, unrolling and securing it at the corners with small weights to prevent it from recoiling.

“Can you read any of it?”

Ellie leans closer, studying the symbols. “Some of it. But not the entire thing. It’s like I should understand it, but I can’t make out the words.”

Interesting.

I begin translating, reading each line aloud. The prophecy is extensive, covering nearly the entire length of the scroll, but certain passages stand out with new relevance after what happened at Blackstone Ridge.

When shadows lengthen and dawn falters,

The Vein will flow once more.

Ancient power stirs from slumber deep,

In darkness bound but never broken.

I pause. “That could refer to my imprisonment and return.”

She nods.

The tower of silver stands alone,

Where desert winds scour memory to dust.

Waiting for the one who walks between worlds,

Beyond the boundary of our knowing.

“The tower,” she says quietly. “And someone who walks between worlds.”

What is divided seeks to be whole,

What is imprisoned yearns to be free.

The raven’s wings span across the void,

Calling to what cannot yet be named.

As I speak these lines, my familiar stirs from where it’s been resting beneath the skin of my shoulder, its head lifting.

Where shadow leads, storm will follow,

Awakening that which lies dormant in the void.

Silver eyes reflect the changing tide,

When one power falters, another shall rise.

Her hand moves to her face, touching the corner of her eye, where silver flecks have become permanent fixtures.

From the ashes of shadow, the storm shall rise,

Not as conqueror but as keeper of what was lost.

The vessel transforms with power unlooked for,

The stranger becomes that which was foretold.

“Vessel,” she repeats.

The order built on fear shall face its trial thrice:

Once against shadow, once against memory,

And finally against that which they never foresaw.

Their foundations tremble not with war but with change.

“Three trials.”

“Maybe River Crossing is the first one?”

“The second trial mentions memory … and the third …”

“Something they never foresaw.” Her head lifts, eyes meeting mine. “My power? Our powers combined?”

Two forces never meant to meet shall intertwine,

Their union defies the patterns of ages past.

What seems an ending is merely transformation,

The circle breaks where none thought it could bend.

The final lines settle into the silence between us.

“It’s all here. Everything that’s happened. It’s all laid out like a script we’ve been following.”

“Prophecies can be interpreted many different ways,” I say. “It’s possible we’re seeing connections that aren’t really there.”

“Are we?” She moves away from the table. “The tower, the crossing between worlds, silver eyes, shadow and storm working together. How many coincidences does it take before it stops being a coincidence?”

She’s right, and we both know it. The prophecy is too specific, too accurate to be mere coincidence. But that raises questions that are even more troubling than the ones we started with.

“If this was all foretold. If everything we’ve done was predicted, then what does that make us? Are we making choices, or are we playing out something already decided?”

“I don’t know.” I take a breath, and then give voice to the truth I’ve been holding close. “But there is one thing I’m certain of.”

“What?”

“What I feel for you isn’t written in any prophecy. The connection between us may have been sparked by magic, but it’s grown into something that belongs to us alone.”

She stares at me for a long moment. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because prophecies predict events, not emotions. They can’t manufacture love or trust or the thousand small moments that build intimacy between two people.” I move closer to her. “The prophecy might have brought us together, but it didn’t create what exists between us now.”

I take a deep breath, coming to a decision.

“There’s something else you should know.”

She goes very still.

“In the moments before they sealed the tower, I cast a summoning spell.”

“A … what?”

“It was designed to draw someone who could break the binding they used to imprison me.” The admission comes easier than I expected it to.

“I thought it would find a Veinblood, or Varam, or one of my people, and alert them of where I was. I never expected it to reach beyond this world, or to find you.”

The silence that follows is deafening. I can see her processing what I’ve said, see the moment the full meaning of what I did hit her.

“Wait … are you saying …” She stands straighter. “You’re telling me that I ended up here, that my entire life was turned upside down, because of a spell you cast?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re only just telling me this now ? My job. My apartment. My life in Chicago. Everything I knew— gone . Because you decided to cast a summoning spell?”

“I didn’t know?—”

“You didn’t know what ? That your magic was powerful enough to reach across worlds? That you were gambling with someone else’s existence? You casually decided to summon help without thinking about the consequences?”

“It wasn’t casual, Mel’shira. I was facing imprisonment, possibly death. The spell was a desperate attempt at survival.”

“At my expense.”

“I didn’t know the cost would be yours. If I?—”

“What? You wouldn’t have cast it?” She whirls to face me. “Or you would have, but maybe felt a little bad about it afterward?”

I don’t have a good answer. Would I have cast the spell if I’d known it would tear her from her world? Would I have chosen eternal imprisonment over destroying her life?

I want to say I would have chosen imprisonment, but I’d be lying. Had I known it would drag a stranger to my world, I’d have still cast it. She meant nothing to me at the time. She was a means to an end. And I needed to protect my people.

“My entire life was turned upside down because of a spell you cast, and you just … decided it wasn’t worth mentioning.”

“At first, my focus was on escaping the tower.” I’m aware of how inadequate this sounds. “Then returning to the Veinwardens, and then survival.”

I don’t add that I also feared what it might mean.

That if I had summoned her through worlds, then I bore responsibility for tearing her from everything she knew.

That knowledge has been sitting like a stone in my chest, growing heavier with each day we’ve become closer.

With each moment her silver eyes meet mine.

With each time her power flows alongside my shadows.

I told myself that revealing this truth would only complicate our immediate needs for survival, but the real complication is what I’ve begun to feel for her. How can I expect her to forgive being ripped from her world if it was my doing?

“You should have told me from the start.”

“You’re right. I should have. I didn’t understand why the spell reached so far. Why it found you specifically. But after the dreams, and Blackstone Ridge … after Sereven recognized you, called you Elowen , it’s clear there’s far more to your arrival than even I understood.”

She stops pacing and turns to face me.

“The summoning spell should have drawn someone from this world with the ability to break my binding. Instead, it reached across worlds to find you.”

“And this prophecy might help us discover how?”

“It may. It doesn’t mention the name Elowen specifically, though. But referring to someone who walks between worlds, a tower, and silver eyes seems to suggest that it’s talking about you.”

“Why would Sereven recognize it, though? How would he know to call me by a name I don’t use?”

“That’s what we need to find out.”

I roll the scroll carefully, and return it to its case.

“The Authority destroys anything that contradicts their doctrine, but they may preserve it for themselves. Sereven might possess knowledge that we don’t have access to.”

“Then what do we do?”

“We need to search for more information. Like you suggested, we can question Lisandra and see if she knows more than she’s already shared.”

“Do you think she might know something about my name?”

“She witnessed his reaction, and she overheard him say it.”

There’s a soft tap at the door.

“That should be food, and hot water. I thought you might like to wash.” I cross the room to open the door. Three women come in, two carrying large buckets of steaming water, and the third a tray piled with food.

They place everything down, dipping their heads in deference, and back out of the room.

“There’s something else we need to discuss,” I say as Ellie investigates the food. “Your decision to intervene when Sereven’s crystal was tearing my shadows apart. You put yourself at significant risk, after I told you not to.”

She meets my gaze, and there’s no apology in her eyes, no regret for what she did. “I didn’t even think about it. I saw what Lisandra did, saw what that … that thing was doing and just … reacted.” Her eyes narrow, chin lifting. “I’m not going to apologize for it.”

“I’m not asking you to apologize, Mel’shira,” I say softly. “That intervention changed everything. When your power merged with mine against the crystal, it caused a reaction that Sereven clearly didn’t expect, and it scared him.” I reach out and touch her cheek. “You saved my life … again .”

“Why were you even that close to him? You know what that crystal can do.”

“I needed to test how far its influence reached, and whether what happened during the healing changed my vulnerability to it. And I couldn’t ignore the opportunity to remove Sereven for good.

” The answer sounds inadequate even to me, a poor excuse for what was essentially a reckless gamble with my life.

“So you risked your life?”

“It was a calculated risk.”

“It was a stupid one.” She mutters the words beneath her breath, but I catch them anyway.

“Maybe so, but we learned that our powers combined can affect the crystal.” I reach for the pitcher provided with the food, and pour the warm liquid into a cup.

“There’s nothing else we can do tonight about what we learned.

Tomorrow, we’ll speak to Lisandra and see what information she might have.

Why don’t you finish eating, then make use of the water before it cools? ”

She nods reluctantly, and pushes to her feet. I watch as she takes one of the buckets into my bedchamber, and lets the door swing closed behind her.

Silence envelops me, broken only by the occasional snap from the hearth fire. My thoughts return to everything that’s happened since her unexpected arrival in this world.

The summoning spell that brought her here. The silver light that manifested when my shadows were torn apart. The way our powers combined against Sereven’s crystal. Her name— Elowen —on Sereven’s lips.

The prophecy’s words echo in my thoughts.

Two forces never meant to meet shall intertwine,

Their union defies the patterns of ages past .

It has to be talking about the connection between us. Shadow and silver light. Two powers never meant to converge.

And I find myself wondering which concerns me more—that the prophecy might be wrong, or that it might be right.