“Death is waiting in the wings,” he said, repeating the same warning from earlier. “Darkness paints the paths of the future, and they are rapidly solidifying.”
“What does it mean?” Dranya asked.
Nalon spun towards her, lifting a finger. “Death is coming, Representative Silver.” His voice rose, each word louder than the last. “It is coming for us all, and the future won’t be changeable for much longer!”
A pin dropping would’ve been as loud as a roaring engine.
“Once the paths become stone, there is no way to alter what will come!” Nalon yelled.
Nikhail squeezed the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t the only one reaching the end of his limit. All around the room, faces were twisting in frustration.
This is normal, he reminded himself.His kind is known for their cryptic nature.
It was one thing to be aware of that, but dealing with a Fortune Elf in the midst of their visions was another entirely. Sometimes, they could See events that would soon take place, but often, their visions were wider andless specific.
There had been a few famous Fortune Elves throughout history—the thirteenth Emerald Empress’s Hand, the High Lady of Death’s mate, and the Sunwalking Queen’s half-brother all came to mind.
Each had a reputation for being abstruse, especially when it came to their visions. That was just the way they functioned.
Some people weren’t silent in their frustration. Even Ryker growled, although the low sound was barely audible over the other grumbles of discontentment making their way through the space.
“Silence!” the Chancellor shouted after a minute. Her command rang through the room, an indisputable order. “Continue, Nalon. And please.” She sighed. “Get to the point.”
The Fortune Elf nodded, and his footsteps echoed through the room. He circled the table, stopping behind Grave Blackwing’s vacant seat.
“As I was saying, the time to change what is to come is quickly waning. Where there is light, there is darkness. Where there is sun, there will also be shadows.”
He picked up the dead Representative’s name card and slapped it face down on the table. The sound echoed through the space like a gunshot, and Nikhail shuddered.
“The Republic’s light is in danger of being extinguished.” The Fortune Elf straightened and looked directly at the Chancellor. “Darkness is waiting to take over. Eager, it is prepared to do whatever it takes to wipe out the light once and for all.”
Every eye was trained on Nalon; every expression was one of worry.
“Grave’s death was the first of many, Ignatia. Every person in this room—in this entire country—is at risk of suffering the same fate as Blackwing.” Nalon’s voicedeepened, and even though magic was blocked in this room, Nikhail could’ve sworn silver flashed through the Fortune Elf’s eyes. “We must act now and root out the darkness before it’s too late.”
Silence fell, thick and uneasy and utterly awful.
“What if we don’t?” This came from a witch from the Central Region who sat a few seats down from Nikhail. “What happens if we can’t find the Black Night in time?”
Nalon leaned onto the table, spreading his fingers wide. A vein pulsed in his jaw, and he slowly shook his head.
“If we do not find them,” he paused, looking around the room with purpose, “then everything will be lost. Chaos will reign, and the Republic of Balance will be no more. Stop the Black Night, or the end will come. There is no third option. No other way to restore the light. This is it. Our last chance.”
CHAPTER 20
Isolation Lake
River had a headache, and it wasn’t because she’d stayed up far too late last night after texting Nikhail. No, the herd of elephants stampeding through her skull was courtesy of none other than her mother.
Tertia had returned from her meeting around four in the morning. She stormed into the house, stomping all the way to her office, which was inconveniently located directly beneath River’s old bedroom.
The slamming office door had woken River, and she’d been tossing and turning ever since. Her mother had been making loud phone calls for hours, rendering it practically impossible for River to fall back asleep.
Every snarled syllable, every bang of Tertia’s fist, and every angry whisper added to River’s headache. Pulling the pillow over her head, she moaned in frustration.
Gods, she was exhausted. She’d agreed to stay in Waterborn House because she wanted to spend time with her father before returning to Lakewater, but if she’d known her mother wouldhave a tantrum of epic proportions, she would’ve stayed with Ryker.
All she wanted was a few hours of sleep. Was that too much to ask?