The curers were in a vast room on the lowest floor of the castle. After the curers had taken the needed amount of blood from me, Koluka gave us cloaks and took us out a side door. The cloaks were finely crafted. Mine was a dark hunter green, Bastien’s black, and Edgar’s brown.
The village was just as amazing as the castle. The homes were made out of the same stones that were in the tunnel. The silver and gold veins running through the sandstones glistened in the sunlight. The multicolored cobblestone pathways were arranged into beautiful designs—birds, unicorns, and sea creatures.
A man with a goat following him passed. I lowered my head so the hood of my cloak would hide my face.
“Hallo,” he said.
“Good day, Rada,” Koluka responded.
We followed her along the narrow, winding paths cutting through the village. Beautiful flowers of various colors crowded inside the hundreds of pots adorning the front doors of the homes. It was like walking in paradise.
Koluka stopped in front of a larger home with a wide golden gate. She tugged on a rope at the side. Many bells hanging from a cord that stretched from the gate to a tall, thin door chimed.
A short man rushed to the gate wearing a bright robe made out of fabric the colors of the sun and sky. “Koluka, you brought her. I am so delighted to meet the presage. Hurry, hurry.” He waved us inside. “The windows have eyes, and the trees, ears. It isn’t safe for you in Veilig, Gianna.” He turned to Koluka. “You may go. Thank you for escorting our guests.”
She beamed. “I was happy to do it. It’s like a secret mission. So thrilling. Goodbye, Gianna, and you others.” With a tight turn, she darted down the passageway.
“Good day,” Bastien called.
“Thank you,” I added.
Edgar entered. His muscled shoulders almost brushed against the doorframe.
I leaned close to Bastien. “Is it me, or is Edgar rude? He’s always going in first.”
Bastien stood aside to let me pass. “He does that because he’s a guard, to make sure there are no dangers. No doubt, he had promised Philip he’d protect you.”
“Oh. Guess it’s just me, then.” I crossed over the threshold. It was a bare place with hardly any decorations or furnishings.
Once inside, I lowered my hood and turned to face the man. “I’m here—”
The man held up his hand. “I know why you are here. For the Fifth heir. Follow me.”
“Did someone call and tell you we were coming?” I asked.
“Call?” His little legs could sure move fast. I had to sprint-walk to keep up with him in the long hallway. “That is a curious word. In a way, I suppose she did call me through my dreams. Athela. She has been visiting you as well, I presume.”
“Wait. She comes to you, too?” I’d felt a loss after the last dream. I was pretty sure she was gone.
“I am a prophet. Many spirits come to me. You sound sad.” He opened a door at the end of the hall. “There is no need. She is still with you, even if she doesn’t visit your dreams any longer.”
“What did she tell you?”
“Showed me,” he corrected. “What you saw, I have seen.”
I wanted to know more. After all, he was a prophet. “Have you seen our future? Do we win the battle? Stop Conemar, I mean.”
“What I see are possible outcomes. It depends on the choices you and those around you make whether good wins over evil or not. I will say that you must put aside your emotions at the end. Think with your head. Take a life without hesitation. For in that moment, you could lose it all.”
My hands were shaking at his words, and I fisted them. Thinking where this quest led to scared me, but I couldn’t stop. I had to go on for Nick and the others.
“Who goes there?” A low, guttural voice came from the corner of the room. An extremely old man with a crop of curly gray hair on his head and a beard sat in an overstuffed chair. Thin, wrinkled skin hung from his arms and face. His murky eyes shifted in our direction.
“Taavi, the girl I told you about has come.”
“Good. Let’s get this over with so I can return to my nap.” He grabbed a knife from a plate of fruit and cheeses on the table beside him.
Is he going to cut himself? Yep. He just did.
Blood beaded from the red line on his palm where he’d dragged the knife across.
“A pushpin or needle would have worked.” I removed the canister from my boot and took out the empty vial. “Can you hold this?” I handed the canister to Bastien.
I held the glass vial under Taavi’s shaky hand.
It took some effort for him to keep his arm up. But even so, he squeezed his hand as tight as he could, letting his blood drop from the cut and into the vial. Rada wrapped a thin piece of cloth around Taavi’s wounded hand.
Taavi lowered his arm and leaned back in his chair. “Now, go,” he said. “I’ve not had this much excitement since the Fey Follies in nineteen twenty-two.”
“Thank you,” I said, pulling the hood back over my head. “What you’ve done here today could save billions of lives.”
He clicked his tongue and hissed, “What do I care? It won’t save mine.” His eyes closed.
Taavi wasn’t fooling anyone. I could feel he did care, or why would he so eagerly cut his hand?
Bastien passed me the canister. I slipped the vial inside and secured the cap over it before slipping it back into my boot.
Rada led us outside and took us down several long staircases and under footbridges. We didn’t go unnoticed. People stared curiously at the three hooded figures following the prophet in the colorful robe.
He abruptly stopped. “Quickly, in here.” He waved his arm to steer us into a covered alleyway. The round cobblestones were weathered and uneven. Arched doorways lined each side of the path with potted flowers between them.
“What is—?”
Rada’s hand shot up like a crossing guard, cutting off my question. He opened a blue door and waved us in.
Edgar dashed in, Bastien and me on his heels. In a ready-to-fight stance, Edgar searched the room. There were shelves and barrels around the walls and brooms stacked in a corner. It had to be the back room of a shop of some sort.
“What happened back there?” Bastien asked.
Rada cracked open the door and peered outside. “I spotted some Sentinels in council gear.”
Edgar snapped his head in Rada’s direction. “Council gear? What are they doing here?”
“The council has drafted all retired Sentinels under the age of forty back into service.” Rada opened the door wider. “Stay here and I’ll come back when the coast is clear.”
A woman came through the door leading to the shop. She spoke excitedly in a lyrical language unfamiliar to me. Rada answered her back, and she nodded then returned to the front of the store.
“She will warn you if any of those Sentinels come.” He closed the door behind him.
I bit my thumbnail as we waited for his return, my thoughts running like water in a cracked dam—rushing and not stopping. Were the men looking for us? Did someone tell them we were here? What would they do to us if we were caught? I grabbed the side of my head, hoping to silence my mind.
Bastien leaned against my side. “Are you all right?”
“Headache,” is all I said.