Page 85 of The Last One Standing (Rogue X Ara #4)

The ghost of a smile danced on Calypso’s lips.

“I had more power then than I do now. When I held your mate bond, I read more than just the bond that existed. I saw flashes of what was to come: you two in a sparring ring, a tavern shaken by a storm that pulled men to their knees, an island lost to the north, covered in snow yet steaming hot, wyverns. I saw wyverns.”

“Is that all?” I asked and cleared my throat when Ara’s anxiety nearly choked me, heavy in my lungs, as palatable as my own smoke.

“No… No, I saw the three of you with two weapons, standing in a river of blood.”

Ara sank onto the couch, her face ashen. I sat beside her, lacing my fingers through hers, and kissed the back of her hand.

“Who was holding which weapon?” she asked.

Calypso shook her head, her mouth pressed into a tight line.

“When I say I see things, it’s not always clear images—it’s not always images at all.

The majority of the time, the most I can do is read what’s written into destiny.

Images are things set in stone. The clearer the vision, the more certain.

When it’s still up in the air, it remains written, an ever-changing script.

Two weapons will be there that night, but not even fate was sure who held which, or even what weapons they were.

For all I know, it could be two regular swords, though that seems unlikely now, given what we know. ”

Ara tensed, her hand tight around mine. “Why would you laugh at that?”

The luminescence in her eyes flared, and that unnerving laugh bubbled up from her. “Because the woman he thought he owned was destined to mate with his brother—fall in love with his brother. Rule with his brother. The meek woman at his side would grow to outmatch either of them.”

Ara held onto my arm like it was the only thing keeping her upright.

Calypso grimaced and rubbed her forehead. “My ability to read destiny like that has long since faded.”

I tensed. “Does that mean Adonis can predict what will happen?”

“I honestly don’t know. He’s stolen the power, yes, so he possesses the capacity to, but it’s not a simple ability. It would be like learning a new language, an extremely complicated and ever-changing one, so…yes, there’s a chance, but not a high one.”

With my eyes trained on Calypso, I asked Iaso, “You’re sure she can’t lie?”

“Positive.” Iaso handed Ara and me cups of tea. “I struck deals, too, back in our early days. It hasn’t been so long that I’ve forgotten how to write an ironclad contract.”

Ara tilted her head and asked Calypso, “If you truly had nothing to hide, why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

Calypso clenched her jaw and pressed her lips together, the tendons in her neck bulging.

“ Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” I asked with more force.

“Because,” she snapped and winced. “I was scared.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I scoffed.

“Of?” Ara asked.

“If I told you I had a vision of the three of you, I’d have to explain how and when and with whom.

I started searching for an answer as soon as I returned to King’s Port after our encounter.

I didn’t even know what to look for: a spell, a curse, a weapon.

” She lifted her face, eyes still glowing.

“I was—I am scared of being alone. Again. Forever.” She looked to her sister.

“I’ve made more mistakes than the average person, horrible mistakes, and admitting them is not… easy.”

“Try harder,” Ara barked.

My face whirled to her in surprise—surprise that quickly morphed into pride.

“If you want people to care about you, you have to try harder . You cannot expect people to care about you when you do nothing to make them want to. We just had to strong-arm you into this, and this is nothing. This is just conversation.” Ara’s grip eased on my hand, but she didn’t let go.

“If you want friendship, you have to earn it. You have to learn to care, too. Genuinely care.”

Calypso stared at Ara like she’d never seen a person before. Finally, she uttered a quiet, “Thank you.”

Iaso stared into her tea with a faint smile.

“You’re welcome, I guess,” Ara replied. “Do you know where Severance is?”

“No,” she said with a surprised laugh. “If I did, I would’ve said so already, but I can’t even find Sacrifice.”

I said, “You couldn’t find it, because Adonis already has it.”

Iaso braced herself on the chair, her tea sloshing. “W-what?”

Calypso narrowed her eyes. “How do you know?”

“I saw it in a memory,” Ara answered. “He still had it in the dungeons, and it’s identical to the one sketched in the weapons legend.”

“Good Goddess above,” Iaso breathed, her knuckles pale around the handle of her mug. “You must stay away from that blade at all costs. Do not let him land a blow, understand?”

“Of course,” Ara said quietly.

I stood and pulled Iaso into a hug. “I don’t intend on either of us dying.”

“Good.” She wrapped her arms around me so tightly, her entire form shook as she murmured another weak, “Good.”

I didn’t intend on dying, but Adonis was dead set on killing me.

Only one of us could walk away from that battlefield.

It sure as hell wouldn’t be him.

“Adonis doesn’t have Severance?” Calypso asked. “You’re certain? We’re days from the liminal moon.”

“No, he doesn’t have it,” Ara said. “If he did, it’d be strapped to his other hip.

No, the bastard is waiting on me to…” Her words trailed off as her gaze fell to the floor.

She shook her head. “No, he has to possess some kind of ability to read the future. He wouldn’t have blind faith in me to find it otherwise. ”

Calypso swore under her breath. “Certainly, not in the next eight days.”

Eight days.

Fuck.

“I figured as much.” Ara ran her fingers over her forehead.

“But it would be impossible for him to have farsight already. It took me well over two centuries to hone the ability to read someone else’s destiny further than a few days ahead.

I wasn’t exaggerating when I said it’s a different language, so his skill must be limited to him and his most pressing desire, which… ”

“Which would be us and that fucking dagger,” I growled. “At least, we know we will find it.”

Calypso tipped her head. “Let’s hope. Like I said, fate is ever changing, and I highly doubt he has a full understanding of that.”

Ara dropped her face to her palm, and I rubbed her back.

“Before we go dredging the Southern Sea for the damned thing, you need to visit Mors,” Iaso said. “He’ll know more, and his book collection is much more extensive than ours. He’s bound to find more information about the daggers.”

The female wyvern’s voice crashed into my head, almost breathlessly. There is something here—magic. Dark magic. I can’t be sure it’s what we need, but my gut is telling me it is something.

Before I could ask where, she projected images of the ocean, spiraling and thrashing like the mouth of hell.

A whirlpool? I asked.

She hovered above it, mist spraying over her scales, wind ripping at her large wings. A maelstrom.

My eyes snapped to Calypso. “My wyvern feels dark magic over your birthplace. Why?”

Calypso reared back with what appeared to be genuine confusion. “Is she feeling my remnants? Old magic or new?”

I can’t be sure, she replied, listening through me. I feel many things. Power that screams, not whispers. Magic that persists, as unbreakable as the realm itself. A darker energy that thrums beneath it, waiting, listening.

“Do you still have the family’s map?” Ara asked. “Was the maelstrom marked on it?”

“The maelstrom is marked on every map. Sailors can’t have their ships stumbling upon it by chance.”

I ground my teeth. “It wasn’t specially marked on the map?”

“No.” She glanced around the room and reached for the satchel tucked in the corner of the bench. With a grunt and a hand braced on her abdomen, she dragged it into her lap and pulled the rolled parchment from it. Rolling it out over the table, she said, “No, it’s marked just like every other.”

She pointed to the faint spiral that indicated its location, drawn in the same charcoal as the rest of it. I released a huff and ran my hand over the scruff along my jaw.

Calypso lifted a shoulder. “If there’s a weapon in there, this family didn’t put it there.”

Iaso cleared her throat, one hand splayed over her chest, the other braced on the back of a chair. “There’s still the chance your wyvern is simply sensing Calypso’s birthplace, right? I can’t… I can’t fathom the idea of having to rescue a weapon from such a place. It would be…”

“Dangerous,” Ara murmured, her fingers laced around her wrist. Her eyes were hazy, though she kept whatever she felt tightly leashed. Nothing poured down our blood oath.

I slipped my hand into hers and broke her hold to interlace our fingers. Her shoulders sagged on an exhale as she blinked and glanced up at me with a tight smile.

“It could very well be Calypso’s magic she feels,” I said after my wyvern’s confirmation, despite my own doubt. “Don’t fret yet.”

Iaso laughed weakly. “Yes, please don’t go diving into maelstroms without irrefutable evidence.”

Calypso perked up. “Oh, you should check Fate’s Offering.”

I released a chuckle and reclined on the back of the couch, running my free hand down my face again. I had a sneaking suspicion that finding a long-lost weapon wouldn’t be as simple as stumbling across it at a shop, no matter how unusual.

Iaso scrambled for paper and a quill. “I’ll let Mors know you’re coming, so he can start combing through his archives.”

Ara patted my knee. “To Canyon, then.”