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If the blood darkens to an inky black, the infection has taken hold.
Oh dang... That'd be a bit terrifying.
Still, it was the first time I stopped fearing the Nightmare—the voice in my head, the creature with strange yellow eyes and an eerie, smooth voice. Eleven years later, and I don’t fear him at all. Even if I should.
That’s how the best lies are told—with just enough truth to be convincing.
Exactly. That's how most learn to deceive. Like Hitler for example.
I did not reflect on much at all.
When it comes to family issues, that's probably best.
She had all the appearance of a beautiful vulture, perched in her favorite chair. She sat, watching me with keen blue eyes, measuring whether I was worthy enough to consume.
I am loving the imagery in this book so far. This is really good.
My father kept irises in the house for a simple reason. Iris had been my mother’s name.
Awww. That's actually so sweet.
My father’s expression gave nothing away. “I came to say hello to my own daughter in my own house, Nerium. Is that all right with you?”
Well, someone needed to put her in her place.
Yes. Because running, dear one, is exactly what she wants from you.
Very true. I have a feeling Mrs. Narium won't be getting what she wants next time.
But no matter how often I asked, he would not tell me who he was or how he had come to exist in the Nightmare Card. Eleven years, we’ve been together. Eleven years, and I’ve never told a soul.
That's literally awesome. A person trapped in a card now trapped in her mind?
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But do not let a fever eleven years past keep you from living your life, Elspeth.
The problem she's not seeing is, it never really passed.
“There once was a girl,” he murmured, “clever and good, who tarried in shadow in the depths of the wood. There also was a King—a shepherd by his crook, who reigned over magic and wrote the old book. The two were together, so the two were the same: “The girl, the King… and the monster they became.”
Intetesting. Two people make one monster? I admit i like these rhymes and riddles.
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“Father asked, when he presents the Nightmare Card to the King, that I come with him.”
Why do I think that's not going to end well?
“If everyone was as distrustful as you, Bess, Blunder would never change.”
I imagine it's hard to be positive, hopeful, or trustful with a monster in your head.
The Nightmare swore under his breath. Trees, how I hate him. He’s thoughtful. Guilt stung me, wasplike. And I’ve been awful to him. I see no problem with that.
Why did this make me laugh so hard?
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It took all my eleven years of practice to keep my expression blank. My palms grew hot with sweat. Nerium passed me in the crowd. I followed her, pushing away from Alyx, colors—the lights from Providence Cards stowed in pockets and satchels—shining all around me. Yellow—the Golden Egg. Turquoise—the Chalice. Piercing white—the White Eagle. Gray—the Prophet. Red—the Scythe. Black—the Black Horse.
So burning was the urge to flee from the room, I found myself gripping the chair.
Me at every social gathering ever. Especially church these days... Is that bad?
“Then let me make my own choices.”
It's because she loves you that she isn't.
Nothing is free, nothing is safe. Magic always comes at a cost.
I suppose it does.
Burgundy—rich and blood red. The second Nightmare Card.
Oh my gosh! What?
“Elm,” Morette Yew warned.
Why the heck are they letting that creep do the bidding? Seems like a terrible idea.
But there was no laughter in Ravyn’s voice. “No. Absolutely not.”
I think he secretly wants it though.
Ravyn Yew. Infected.
Bro...What?
“First your Nightmare Card, then this. I’m growing tired of your lies by omission, Captain.”
Okay, but she can't really say much. She's lying too.
The Nightmare hissed through his teeth at the Rowan King’s name.
Hmmm. He has something against them he's not sharing I suppose.
Brutus Rowan, his Captain of the Guard, became the next King of Blunder.”
The monster in her head has to be the Shepherd King. It seems to be heading that way.
The stone chamber—enveloped by moss and vines—stood tall at the edge of the mist. How strange it looked, alone in the ruins, unmarked but for one dark window situated on its southernmost wall.
Hmmmm. One dark window, huh? This room must be important.
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By the trees—They’re just leggings, Elspeth.
That's how I feel in yoga pants.
“Call me Elspeth,” I said. “We’re about to commit treason together, after all.”
About time! My goodness...
“Be careful, Elspeth. Don’t let yourself be swayed by a handsome face. There is so much you don’t know about the world. About powerful men. I worry for you. Truly, I do.”
Like she's one to talk! Oh my gosh, how haughty can you be?
“Hauth broke your wrist, Ravyn mangled his hand. Balance.”
How did I know that's what was happening? XD
How do you know so much about it?
Isn't it obvious?
He is a vestige of the past, haunting the chamber he built for the Spirit of the Wood, nothing more than a memory of a man who once was. His voice grew harder. A man I once was.
I knew it! Thank you!
I put a hand to my mouth, fingers shaking. My voice came out hollow. “But that would mean I absorbed your soul when I touched the Nightmare Card. Which makes you… the Shepherd King.” A growl, a sneer—oil, bile. His voice called, louder than it had ever been, as if he was closer. Stronger. Finally, my darling Elspeth, we understand one another.
I FRICKIN KNEW ITTTTT!!
Practice restraint, and know it by touch. Use Cards when they’re needed, and never too much. For too much of fire, our swords would all break. Too much of wine a poison doth make. Excess is grievous, be knave, maid, or crown. Too much of water, how easy we drown.
Everything in moderation, my dear
He took The Old Book of Alders and made it doctrine, twisting the words until they’d become weapons against anyone infected.”
Like they do wirh God's Word
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A chill crept over me. “Is that what happened? Rowan stole the throne from the Shepherd King?”
Ahhhhhh. Now that makes sense. Finally, a bit of clarity.
What happened five hundred years ago mattered. Far more than I had ever realized.
Yes. Exactly. She would know.
“Market Day awaits. Best put a glove over that mangled hand before your subjects see it, Prince.”
Their contempt and jealousy reminds me of my cousins and I. Like, seriously. Its so relatable.
“By the authority of the King, I, Hauth Rowan, High Prince of Blunder, sentence you to death.”
Shut the heck up, High Idiot.
When the shadows grow long, when our names turn to dust, what we loved, what we hated, will spoil to rust. All will be forgotten, save one truth, unshaken… What did we do when the children were taken?
That can be applied in this world too!
Elm rolled his eyes. “Trees, we get it. No need to rub our noses in it.”
I have a feeling he's sort of jealous
I looked at my hands. Whose grave? I gasped, my breath coming in desperate, ragged gulps.
Wait, what? Did she kill someone?
“Because that’s where my room is.”
Which is why he probably hid it there.
“Please, sit,” she said, gesturing to the table. “Shall we make a toast?”
She knows something and I don't like it.
“And if it takes a cold heart to be fearless, then so be it.”
Dang, that's messed up.
“Are you still pretending?” I said, reveling in his gaze. Ravyn gave a surprised laugh and, in front of everyone, leaned in and kissed me. “I never was,” he whispered into my lips.
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“If I could go back and do it differently, Elspeth, I would.”
He's not happy
“Be safe,” I whispered to the wind as Ravyn Yew disappeared beyond the gate. Had I known they’d be the last words I’d say to him aloud, I might have chosen them differently.
Wait, what? No, no, no, no, NO!
