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In theory, it was great to be special.
In reality, it was a heavy burden, making life far more complicated than it should have been.
I glanced at Tess and Em nearby, wondering which question to ask first. There were at least a dozen, all whirling in my mind like a sandstorm.
I settled on a wary mutter. “A...prediction?”
Aspen nodded at Koen’s discretion. “Another old friend can see futures. I’m sure you’ll meet him one day.”
“No secrets there,” Koen assured me.
“Withheld truths are as good as lying,” I said with sudden bitterness. “I thought we established that.”
There was a spark of exasperation in his eyes, opening his mouth to speak, but Aspen nudged him and said, “We owe him the predictions, at least.”
“I remember mine,” Sloan piped up, approaching me with her familiar, comforting motherly aura about her. ‘Hone your craft or regret it.’ He was referring to my newfound witch abilities, particularly the healing ones. I was... After Maer died, I lost a little piece of myself. I considered her my patient, and I failed to save her, a healer’s—and a friend’s—worst nightmare. On top of that, we just escaped Sanlow by the skin of our teeth. I was overwhelmed, just like Koen and Aspen. But that prediction grounded me. I needed to become a better healer and join the Kairos to better the world for humans and witches. If I didn’t, I would regret my cave-in to despair.”
“‘You will get what you want’ is mine,” Aspen said. “It’s a little less grand. My wish was to merely be able to be free of my coven and travel.” He cast his gaze around the library. “It came true. Yours was pretty epic, Koen.”
Koen cleared his throat in embarrassment. “I suppose. It was ‘You’ll help change the course of vampiric and human history.’”
My and the girls’ jaws dropped. “Uh, yeah,” I scoffed in awe, “I’d say it’s pretty damn epic.”
He scrubbed the back of his head. “Still kind of figuring it out.”
Rhetta wrapped her arms around his waist, beaming up at her husband. “I think it’s pretty clear. You helped grow the Kairos into what it is today, and you raised Bastian to be kind and strong.”
I met Koen’s warm gaze, and we shared a crooked grin. My father figure’s voice was colored with pride. “I guess he turned out good.”
Swelling with confidence, I almost forgot to ask what Maer’s was. Em got the honors.
Koen’s smile flickered. Suddenly, the air between the adults went taut. The shift made my spin tighten. “When we were told that our futures could be revealed, Maer didn’t hesitate to ask if she was going to die. She was told...” He swallowed hard, eyes flicking to Sloan as if asking her to finish the prediction.
Sloan quickly stepped in. “Maer was told that her legacy would be destined for greatness.”
This predictor could have just said yes.
I shook the bitter thought away before it had the chance to settle. “Ah. I don’t suppose this predictor is around to give us answers about the eclipse or what to do about an impending civil war?”
Aspen perked up like a bolt of lightning had jolted him. “How could my vampire memory have failed me?” He zipped off in a heartbeat into the depths of the bookshelves. I expected him to return a moment later, but only his voice carried. “It’s been sixteen years! It must have fallen somewhere!”
“What is he looking for?” Em muttered, sidling over to me while Tess drifted to my other side.
I shrugged and glanced at Koen. He seemed to have pushed aside his painful memories because now he looked perfectly at ease, leaning his cheek on the top of Rhetta’s head. “Wish I knew.”
“This would be the apt time to settle in,” Sloan suggested, ushering me and the girls back toward our dropped bags. “We can take our time. I don’t think anyone had much sleep, so let’s collect some after we eat. I brought mini meals.”
Aspen reappeared with a gust of wind. “And I brought sleeping arrangements!”
A while later, we were fed and getting situated in chosen spots around the library, each equipped with two downy blankets. While Koen, Rhetta, and Sloan were clustered together, speaking in low voices, Em and I were settling our “beds” beside each other. Aspen handed Tess hers. I half expected her to hunker down beside her sister, but instead, she dropped it next to mine.
I would have appreciated the gesture had the blankets not blown dusty air into my face. “By all means, join me.” I coughed.
The girls snickered and got comfortable. We were silent for a minute or so, listening to the adults murmuring. I made sure not to listen too closely. I didn’t feel like deciphering anything they were saying, and they likely didn’t want me to eavesdrop anyway.
“Are you tired?” Em whispered.
“No,” Tess and I whispered back, though we all knew it was mostly a lie. We were tired, yes, but too riled up with possibilities to accept sleep as an option.
At the same time, the body always got what it needed. Half an hour into silence, the girls and the adults were passed out cold.
Me? Of course I was left to stare up at the ceiling. Only this ceiling was far more interesting than mine at Ophir. The White Tree’s ceiling was almost lost in darkness. Still, the shadows cast by the dancing candlelit chandeliers revealed just enough of the elaborate paintings of deserts, forests, lakes, rivers, and villages to be visible. My gaze roamed the beautiful work of art. Had Aspen painted these? Were they places he had visited? I didn’t even know painting this detailed was possible.
I cast out my hearing for the half-blood, making himself known in another library room. Careful not to disturb anyone, I slipped out of my blankets to seek him out.
Aspen was checking the spines of books on a high shelf and then jotting something down on a piece of paper. There was a circular table in the center of the warm room that was pleasantly stifling with the smell of paper, wood, ink, and leather. It was littered with stacks of more paper, most scrawled with black ink. I couldn’t make sense of the contained chaos.
“Recordkeeping,” Aspen explained without turning toward me. Obviously, his sense of hearing was just as good as mine. “The worst part of having a library, I must admit. I would much rather just admire them.”
“Have you read every book in here?” I asked, brushing my hands along the worn old spines of an elbow-height shelf.
“Eventually I will. Right now, I’m just a collector.” Aspen finished inspecting his shelf and set his sheet on top of the pile on the desk to meet my gaze with his icy one, though they glowed with joy. “That’s why I can’t find the one I’m looking for. It used to belong to our friend. He gave it to me for safekeeping.” He sighed in exasperation at himself. “If he found out I ‘lost’ it, he’d wring my neck.”
“What’s it called? I can help look,” I offered.
“The jacket doesn’t have anything on it.”
I looked around. Almost every single book in the entire room didn’t have anything embossed or engraved on its spine. “Oh. Well. That makes things harder.”
“I do have a spellbook I’m going to offer,” Aspen said, moving around the table to rest his arm over my shoulders companionably, “to see if there’s a summoning spell one of those talented witches can learn quickly. Do you want to see something fascinating?”
Aspen guided me to another room. I didn’t know how another room could be any different than what I had already seen, but wow, was I wrong.
“The map collection,” he introduced proudly.
My jaw dropped as Aspen weaved among the many small desks littered with maps, both giant and pocket-sized. I listened in awe as he explained them—how to read them, what the many icons represented, where they were made and by whom, and so on—and with each anecdote he rambled on about, the more I realized just how small my world was.
My concept of the world was confined to a very small portion of the Izan Desert and the Davians’ farm, with the unknown locations of Balmoral, Tarbent, and Sanlow. I know so few places. Aspen seemed to know all of them.
What would it be like to have this much knowledge of different lands? What would it be like to go on an adventure with him?
“One of the few places I admit I’ll never get a glimpse of,” Aspen was saying as I pulled myself out of reminiscing, “is Dawnhaven.”
I snorted. “Who do they let in?”
Aspen laughed under his breath. “I like your humor, Bas. Well, the witches have a tumultuous history with vampires, to say the least. They created their own language and harnessed the ability to control and change physical objects. They had to suppress those abilities after the devastating attack on Dawnhaven, which led to the capture of many when they were dragged to Sanlow. The witches who weren’t captured made Dawnhaven even more of a fortress than it already was. From what I gleaned over the years, they’ve turned into hermits. They still live in fear.” The blue of Aspen’s irises grew dark. “I don’t blame them for being so purist. It’s like me and my library. I couldn’t imagine letting just anyone in when there’s even the slightest chance they could destroy it. Not the Blackwoods, of course. I trust them with every vial of ink I own.”
I didn’t meet his gaze, and he sighed, “Ah, there’s a second meaning behind that. Tess?”
“Yes,” I mumbled. “I think she’s giving up on her destiny to restore her birthright just so she could stop being mean to me.”
Aspen patted my shoulder and guided me to the next room, this one similar to a kitchen...just without all the things that humans had to make food. We sat across from one another at the circular table. I tilted my head back to stare at the painting of various night skies.
“If someone has a divine or self-imposed destiny, one way or another, whatever obstacles are in their way, they surpass,” Aspen said sagely, also looking up. “Nothing can stop dreams, goals, or fates from coming true, whether it’s the way we intend or not. If we look at it that way, even you can’t stop her destiny.”
I tried to mull that over but decided there was another time for self-reflection. “What’s your destiny?” I probed.
The half-blood shrugged. “I’m not always sure, but I do know it will always be the pursuit of knowledge. With that comes the desire and obligation to educate others who need the same knowledge. Somehow, something I’ve collected will change another something. With the state of the vampire-witch-human world, maybe it’ll be for good, and maybe it’ll be for bad. I can only hope my library stands through it all.”
I looked at Aspen, still observing his ceiling as if he’d forgotten I was there. Then my gaze drifted to the rest of the “kitchen” and then toward the archway that led to the main library. The White Tree was his life’s work, loaded with hundreds of pieces of invaluable knowledge. Aspen loved it more than anything. He had forsaken his coven just to collect dead pieces of trees.
I didn’t expect the pang of homesickness as I suddenly felt adrift. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling. It seemed that, of all the people around me, I knew so little about my purpose—they all seemed to know my purpose when I, myself, didn’t. Unlike the others, I had no self-imposed destiny. Apparently, I was supposed to stop or start a war. But that didn’t inspire me; it scared the fangs right out of my mouth.
Seeming to sense my discomfort, Aspen said, “Courage and purpose will come. All you can do is brace yourself. You’re powerful in more ways than one.”
I dropped my chin in my hand and mumbled, “Doesn’t feel like it.”
Aspen’s words were eerily cryptic when he said, “Power shows itself when it’s needed.”
