The Crones began to grow weary, and their tender, whimpering canvas was on the cusp of losing consciousness yet again, but the Shadow King had one final question.
“And you are absolutely certain that it’s him?Thischild? Of all the heirs who have come before him, this is who the Source has selected?”
It was the eldest of the Crones who replied, her tone curt and clipped. They were offended to have their divine gifts called intoquestion, as it was known: the Crones of the Tower always spoke true.Always.
“Yes, your Majesty. We are certain. The blood can sing, but it cannot lie. The prophecy could not have been read from the aether of any other. The boy is our salvation.”
Slowly and meticulously, the eldest Crone undid the ties that had kept the child bound—both physical and arcane. He remained there on the table, light-headed and listless even as the stylus was put away. An attendant appeared out of nowhere to drench his wounds in some sort of black, foul-smelling medicinal liquid. It burned even worse than the ink had, and yet now, he didn’t even flinch.
For once, the Shadow King experienced a small swell of pride towards his son.
“All will kneel before the Harbinger of Hel one day,” the middle, more matronly Crone supplied, gently cupping the boy’s cheek as she offered him water.
“Even you, my King,” the youngest of them added, a wicked gleam in her pitch black eyes as she handed the Shadow King a scroll of parchment. A copy of the prophecy for his records.
“Even you.”
Chapter One
Arken
Find yourself, Arken. You’re ready. It’s time.
That haunting whisper caressed my ear again as I began to stir—a familiar, yet foreign echo carried by the salt-laced gales as I woke up to perfect darkness. Perfect darkness, and a thick, whorling mist in the air that felt… odd, somehow. A bit eerie. It was a touch too heavy on the inhale, the hazy vapor shrouding me in shadows. My skin prickled with an uncomfortable degree of self-awareness, the strangest sense that I was being watched.
What was… Where was I…?
“Ah, good. You’re awake. I thought I was gonna have to prod at ya with the broomstick again.”
I blinked. Oh. Right. I had fallen asleep on deck earlier, having spent my day lounging around like a cat in the afternoonsun. I had been perfectly content to laze about for hours on end, soaking in that late summer warmth and watching wispy clouds drift across an endless cerulean expanse. Now, there was only the silver light of the moon overhead, her glimmering halo glowing softly against a smattering of starlight.
“In the middle of the night? That’s just rude, Conrad,” I groused, pushing myself up from the pile of potato sacks that had served as my makeshift bed.
“Storm’s coming.”
Well, that would explain the mist, at least. I tilted my head towards the deckhand as I proceeded to run my fingers through my hair, combing out the sleep snarls. Gods, I was in desperate need of a haircut. These soft brown waves were pretty enough, but they had grown much too unruly over the last few weeks. The length was nearly impossible to manage without access to a mirror. Slowly, I began to process the implications of the old man’s clipped observation.
“A storm? Here? Aren’t we just now passing Luxtos and Stygos?”
“Aye.”
All of the research I’d done back home suggested that the Astral & Umbral Isles had some of the most mild waters in the entire realm of Aemos. If anything, we should have dealt with a few thunderstorms up north as we left Samhaven nearly six weeks ago, but we had gotten lucky. So far, we had experienced fairly smooth sailing. As smooth as one could hope for over such a long journey.
“I’ll head back down below deck if it gets too bad, then,” I promised, hoping to buy myself just a little more time in the open ocean air.
Technically, that’s where I should have been regardless. Below deck, alongside the rest of the passengers who had purchased their tickets from Samhaven to Pyrhhas. Butsomehow, I had managed to endear myself to the ship’s crew within about a week of our voyage, so as long as I kept out of their way, they let me sneak up here to my heart’s content.
“You should head back downnow,” Conrad countered, his expression grim. “Before it even hits.”
The grizzled deckhand offered no further explanation, which was nothing new. He was the taciturn type. Still, I followed his gaze to where it had affixed itself just above the horizon, and then I understood.
This was going to be one Hel of a storm.
Though the skies were crystal clear overhead, whorling clouds had begun to gather in the east, and the full moon was wrapped in her stunning silver halo—a telltale sign of an incoming front. Not that I needed either of those signs to know that the inbound tempest was dangerous. Each breath I took was heavy with mist, salt, and a touch of pure aether as it crackled through the air like static. I could practicallytastethe rising fury of the elements.
That probably should have frightened me. It did not.
“Come on, Conrad. You know that I can handle myself just fine up here.”