“Ether is power. The power that controls the waves, hangs the stars in the sky, and keeps everything in motion. It is life in its more basic and wonderful form.” She lifts her finger and continues. “A sacrifice will be given. A new leader rises to rule with a compassionate hand. All will seem lost when death takes the man she loves, but another will rise up to take his place. One shall live while the other passes on. A love debt paid by a single cry.”
As her voice trails off, I feel numb, like I’m hovering above my body and looking down upon myself. Her words ring with resounding truth within my soul. Frightening and mind-blowing but real. I have no doubt this will come to pass.
I cry out as Bastien’s arm falls over my shoulder, drawing me close. His grip is tight, his expression grave. “Is that all of it?”
“Yes. Illyria’s destiny ends with the birth of her firstborn children, a twin boy and girl.”
I suck in a breath. “I will have children?”
“Oh, yes.” She smiles down at me. “Several actually. They will be a great blessing during the trials you will face.”
A strange warmth spreads through my chest, chasing away the chill in the air. Children. I never really thought about having kids. Growing up in the rebellion with hardly any food, I knew the cost of bringing a child into the world, but now… the world is changing. Is it possible I could someday be happy?
I turn to smile at Bastien, to share in my joy, but I stop short. The pain in his eyes cuts me deeply. “What wrong?”
He shakes his head. I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he struggles to control whatever hidden emotion he is feeling. “Are the prophecies ever wrong?”
“No. I’m afraid not. This will come to pass as has been foretold.”
“I don’t understand.” I duck my head so I can look into Bastien’s face, but he turns away. “The prophecy is good. It says we can win. We can save our people.”
“Yes,” he nods. “But at a great cost to you.”
I look to Sariana for help, but she merely stares back. “I have already made my decision to marry Aloysius. The sacrifice has been made. This is what we planned. Now I know it will work.”
When he finally lists his gaze to meet mine, I am rocked by the depths of the hollowness I see. “One shall live while the other passes on. A love debt paid…” He trails off.
“Oh.” I clasp my hand over my mouth. How did I miss that part? “You mean… Eamon or Bastien?” I look to Sariana with pleading eyes, but she is no longer looking at me. Her eyes are closed and her head leans back against the chair.
I watch in wonder as the age lines begin to melt away from her face. The snowy white recedes from her hair. A rich mahogany replaces it, flowing over from the crown of her head like a waterfall. The curve of her back straightens. “I am free,” she whispers.
Bastien scrambles to his feet. “How did you…?”
“I didn’t,” she replies, raising her hands before her eyes, twisting them back and forth to admire the long, graceful fingers. “My mission is complete. I can go home now.”
“But Aloysius—” Bastien protests.
“Is no longer a threat. We can’t help him. We are free from our burden.”
I grab Bastien’s hand, relying heavily on him to help me up. “Does that mean there won’t be any more prophecies?”
“I suppose that will be up to you.” She smiles. She rises to her feet with a long-forgotten grace.
“What about Illyria?” We watch as Sariana bounces on her toes, her hair floating about her face as she giggles with delight. She looks hardly a day over thirty, beautiful and full of life.
She sobers for just a moment, reaching out a hand to me. “May I speak with her alone for a moment before you go?”
I can feel Bastien’s hesitation, but I nod at him. “I’ll be all right.”
He relents and grabs my pack, slinging it over his shoulder. He opens the door, swearing loudly as he is blasted with gust of icy air. The door slams shut behind him, but I doubt he had little control over it.
When I turn back, Sariana’s face is downturned, painted with regret. “I am truly sorry for the trials that lie before you, my dear. I have carried your burden as my own for many years, knowing this day would come.”
“Your prophecy has ruined my life,” I mutter, feeling little warmth from her hand as she reaches out to grasp my arm. “You took Bastien from me, destroyed Eamon’s life, and now you are going to kill one of them?” My voice shakes with rising anger.
“This is not my prophecy. I am just the messenger.” She steps toward me and I have to fight the urge to retreat. “Fate chose you because of your heart, Illyria. Your love for your people proves that. You are willing to sacrifice everything. Not many people would do that, and that is what will make you a wise queen.”