There was no clear answer, but at least Riona had a direction now. She was still unsure whether the Nightshade Coven elders were right about killing Ol’gaz inside the dream—what if it killed Florian too?—but any clue, no matter how small, was better than nothing.
"Hey, ancestor! Do you know a way for to enter Florian’s consciousness without sleeping? I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately," Riona murmured, keeping her voice low so only her intended target could hear.
Even if Riona’s consciousness was linked to Florian’s through the dream, just as Lennix had suggested, it would all be useless if she couldn’t fall asleep. The relentless nightmares had exhausted her, making sleep feel like an impossible task.
"I can’t say for certain," replied the Fallen One, who hadn’t slept since his death, cursed to exist as an invisible ancestor. "But I once heard about a door to consciousness—a gateway into soone’s mind. The details, however, escape ."
Riona sighed, pouting. Of course, she hadn’t expected a straightforward answer. The ancestor was nothing more than a nagging ghost, his usefulness limited to recounting Ol’gaz’s origins and how the creature had been unsealed—an event that, frankly, was his fault.
"But he might know," the Fallen One added.
"Who?" Riona raised an eyebrow, glancing around.
The Fallen One almost mocked her for being oblivious—before rembering she couldn’t see him.
In truth, he was gesturing toward an elder among the Nightshade Coven: Perseus, the all-knowing vampire. Not that it mattered. No one could see him tilting his chin in the vampire’s direction anyway.
"Perseus," the Fallen One muttered, closing his eyes in embarrassnt. He was silently grateful for his invisibility—at least no one could see him blush. "He seems to know everything."
Riona huffed, irritation bubbling inside her. The ancestor had been nothing but useless so far, despite this entire ss being his fault to begin with.
Had he not been so greedy in trying to amplify the last Blood Moon child’s power, he wouldn’t have fallen from his throne. Had he not been so fixated on redeeming himself, he wouldn’t have accidentally shattered Ol’gaz’s seal while unlocking Riona’s power.
She rolled her eyes. "Ugh! I don’t understand why this is my responsibility. It’s your ss—fix it yourself!" she snapped. But even as she said it, she knew the truth.
First, the ancestor couldn’t do anything, even if he wanted to. And second—Florian’s life was at stake. No matter how unfair it felt, there was no way she could just sit back and do nothing.
Still grumbling about the ancestor who had been nothing but a burden, Riona dragged her feet toward Perseus. The elder stood among the other mbers of the Nightshade Coven, deep in what seed to be an urgent eting.
They often held these discussions before resting, using the ti before sunset to plan their next steps. Riona clenched her fingers, uneasy. She wasn’t exactly known for her manners, and she worried that barging in might make the elders reconsider helping her.
Not that they would, of course—this wasn’t about pity. The fate of the world was at stake, and they all knew it.
"Excuse ," Riona said, raising her voice once she was close enough.
The elders, towering figures draped in dark robes, turned their attention to her. Compared to them, she looked small, almost insignificant.
"Yes? Do you need sothing?" Madam Silvia asked, a hint of confusion in her tone. Anything Riona required should have been handled by Lady Maris or Lisbeth, the kingdom’s princess. Was she here to ask for more water? Extra blood packs?
But Riona’s next words caught her off guard.
"A way to enter soone’s consciousness without falling asleep."
Madam Silvia blinked, repeating the request under her breath before turning to her fellow elders. This was beyond her expertise—perhaps one of them would have the answer.
Perseus raised a finger, his eyes widening as he smacked his lips. "Ah, that! Yes. I’ve pondered it myself, and it has been recorded—once."
He paused, tilting his head. "Unfortunately, there’s little detail, since the person who succeeded never returned to his body alive. The only account we have cos from his wife—the very person whose consciousness he entered."
Despite the grim history, Perseus knew that in tis like these, even the smallest clue could make a difference. So, he shared everything he knew.
"There are ntions of proximity, skin-to-skin contact, and even a certain spell," he explained. "But I don’t know whether all of these elents must happen simultaneously, in a specific order, or if any one of them alone could achieve the sa result."
Before anyone could react, the ground trembled beneath them. Riona staggered, barely managing to steady herself against a nearby tree. The elders felt it too, as did everyone else in the group.
Those still asleep jolted awake. Those already awake snapped to attention. So vampires, in the middle of their morning al, abandoned their blood packs in alarm.
Thorin shot upright. He had been diligently resting, ensuring his senses would be sharp for the journey ahead. Puck, on the other hand, had been awake for a while—his heightened awareness made deep sleep nearly impossible.
"What’s happening?" murmurs spread among the vampires as they exchanged uneasy glances.
And still—the ground kept shaking.
From their vantage point, the tip of Asvaldur Castle was just visible beyond the mountains, though most of the structure remained hidden. Still, seeing even a glimpse was enough to confirm their fears—sothing was happening there. And given the timing, the earthquake was almost certainly connected to it.
Without hesitation, Puck dashed away. This was his mont to shine—Puck the tracker. Swift, sharp, and instinctive, he could piece together fragnts of information without needing the full story. Unlike the vampires, he possessed an extraordinary sense of hearing and sll, making him the perfect scout for situations like this.
Considering everything—the fact that Emperor Kaan had taken Florian and the demon, the emperor’s history of ruthlessness, and the earthquake’s proximity to the castle—Puck made his decision. He sprinted toward Asvaldur.
There was no concrete proof linking the tremor to the castle, no obvious clues to follow. But Puck trusted his instincts. They were rarely wrong.
And this ti, they weren’t.
Reaching a vantage point where the entire castle ca into view, Puck’s sharp eyes took in the scene. His stomach tightened.
Sothing had happened.
And it was bad.
Reviews
All reviews (0)