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back to Ravi and Daks, his eyes grave. “Your friend will fill you in on the details, but the gist of it is, Girik’s clan was pushed out of the mountains by unseen forces, and other clans may have suffered similar fates. The energy contained beneath the Great Barrier Mountains is too strong and chaotic to get a good read on what was happening, or from where it originated. But the warning in the prophecy does not ease my mind on the subject, not after some of the things we’ve seen.”

Ravi shivered, and Daks tightened his arms around him. “Sorry to be blunt,” Daks cut in, “but I think we’ve heard all we need to. It sounds like this prophecy doesn’t have much to do with us, even though Ravi had to be the one to deliver it. You all seem to have a lot to discuss, so, uh, we’ll just go and leave you to it. Thanks for dinner and everything else.”

Without waiting for a response, Daks rose to his feet and tugged Ravi with him, leaving his mostly full tankard on the table. They’d only taken two steps toward the door when Lyuc spoke again, stopping them.

“You may have more of a part to play than you think.”

Ravi winced, and Daks let out a pained groan as they both slowly turned to the wizard.

“Your Seer’s prophecy said, ‘Cleave to your heart, your sight, and the bearer of your burden,’” Lyuc continued. “Now, my heart could simply be a metaphor for my feelings, and my sight a clarity of thought or vision, but the last part makes me think not. Ravi, you could have said ‘cleave to my burden,’ but you didn’t. You said cleave to the bearer of my burden, which makes me think it’s meant to be a person.” He turned to look at Tas, who started, eyes widening. “We know what my burdens are. You are the bearer of one of them.” He tipped his head back to gaze up at Yan, who still stood behind him with hands on his shoulders. “Following that logic, you know who my heart must be.” They shared a sappy look before Lyuc leveled his gaze at Ravi again. “Who do you think my sight is, then? I tell you now, I have many talents, and power and knowledge no one else alive possesses, but the gift of Sight is not among them.”

Ravi began to regret that stew he’d crammed down his throat. Daks stepped in close to his side, his body stiff.

“But as you said, you can’t be sure of any interpretation of prophecy,” he argued. “And Ravi isn’t the only Seer in the world. The prophecy might not have even meant a Seer at all. ‘Your sight’ could be anything.”

“But he is the Seer who brought us the prophecy, and he is the one standing here with us now,” Lyuc countered.

“Exactly. He did his part. We’ll leave you to do yours. We’ll see ourselves out.”

Daks covered the distance to the door in a couple of quick strides, grabbed their cloaks off the hooks, and lifted an arm to usher Ravi outside. Ravi stumbled into the dark in a daze, his mind awash with questions and anxieties. The comforting weight of the cloak Daks draped over his shoulders helped, but his head was spinning as they hurried to the cabin where Shura and Mistress Sabin waited, without a backward glance.

He didn’t participate much in the conversation that followed, once they’d closed and bolted the door. He let the words wash over him as Daks explained what had happened, Shura and Mistress Sabin shared what they’d learned of their hosts, and all three of them argued possible interpretations of a prophecy Ravi couldn’t even remember saying. He should have been listening closer, particularly given everything Lyuc had said—and not even counting his love of fantastic stories—but he was too tired to make sense of it. His thoughts wanted to go in too many directions at once.

The gods were making him regret all those times he’d wished and prayed to be in one of those tales from his childhood. He’d laugh if he wasn’t worried he wouldn’t be able to stop once he started. The Rift, Spawn, wizards, sacred stones, and cryptic prophecies? Not even counting the adventure he’d already had and the declaration of love he hadn’t even had a chance to let sink in. He was no hero from a tale, no warrior or magic user. Whatever magic he had used him, not the other way around. Tales were for childish dreamers. He was supposed to have been a scribe, or a scholar, or teacher at the very most. He hadn’t even been that much for the past ten years. What was he doing here?

Dragging a hand over his face, he sighed.

Tomorrow, he promised himself.

He’d try to make sense of this craziness tomorrow when he’d had a chance to catch his breath.

“Daks?”

Daks stopped midsentence and turned to him.

“Can we go to bed now? Please?”

Daks’s eyebrows drew down for a second before his expression softened. “Sure. It’s been a long day for all of us. We’ll have clearer heads after some rest anyway. They shouldn’t bother us again tonight, if they know what’s good for them.”

Despite looking drawn and pale, Shura quirked her lips slightly at the ridiculousness of his implied threat, given who and what was out there. She rose slowly from her spot at the end of the bed, and Mistress Sabin helped get her settled beneath the covers. Relieved everyone agreed, Ravi shuffled to the far side of the second bed, took off his boots, and stretched out beneath the blankets without bothering to undress any further.

Both beds in the cabin were quite narrow, but no one seemed to mind as Shura and Mistress Sabin cuddled up together in theirs and Daks put out the lamp and slid in next to him.

“Are you all right?” Daks murmured, tucking Ravi against his side and wrapping an arm around

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