Chapter 81

We spend hours in that damn library. Luckily, the Priests are very nice and bring us tea and snacks, always urging us to be careful around the precious scrolls but generally being very friendly. I look curiously after them during a little scone break, sipping from my mug of tea, thinking that these are…very different than the Priests of Darkness that my mom told us once kidnapped Rafe.

But then again…maybe they’re Priests of Death? I don’t know.

“What’s that taste like?” Anton asks on a sigh, leaning against the table next to me.

I look up to him and then down at the scone in my hand. “Seriously?” I ask with a grin. “Of all the things you’ve seen me eat, you’re jealous of a scone?”

“Yes,” he groans, tilting his head back dramatically, reminding me of Ariel. I grin, thinking he probably learned the move from her. “I’m so bored that even a scone sounds tantalizing right now.”

I laugh and sip my tea, lifting the scone and pretending to waft it beneath Anton’s nose temptingly. He snaps his teeth at it, playful.

“It is boring, isn’t it,” I sigh, looking back at the table where Laila and Orion still diligently work.

“I thought it would be way cooler, reading through ancient scrolls and discovering prophecies about Orion’s future sex life,” Anton says, stretching his arms above his head and yawning. “But it’s just a bunch of…riddles. With no punchline. And none of them are dirty.”

“I know,” I sigh, not really wanting to go back to the table. The prophecies – they read like poems and haikus, with all sorts of metaphors and numbers that make no sense to me. And Orion is never mentioned by name, so it’s all very vague. He is instead referred to again and again as the Heir, the Moon Prince, the Crescent Son, and all sorts of things like that.

“You think we’re gonna figure this out?” Anton asks, leaning close to me so I can hear him, even as he keeps his voice low.

“No,” I say, my shoulders slumping a bit in defeat. “Honestly, if it so easy that four angry, unpracticed young people could figure it out in a day, wouldn’t generations of scholars have figured it out already?” I wave a hand around at the Priests still moving through the room. “I mean –“

But before I can finish my thought a Priest coming down a long staircase stumbles over the edge of his robe, tripping and nearly falling as he works to keep hold of the scrolls in his arms. Anton and Orion both move fast, arriving just in time to help, though obviously only Orion can catch the Priest by the arm and help him regain his feet.

“Are you all right, High Priest?” Orion asks, worried, peering into the Priests bleary eyes.

“Ah, my Prince,” the Priest murmurs, his voice shaky and uncertain as he finds his balance and looks uncertainly around at Orion and Anton, and then at Laila and I as we, too, dash over. “Orion the Penultimate – good boy – nice – steals my pens –“

“What?” Laila asks, looking up into Orion’s face as the Priest – clearly a bit senile – continues to murmur.

“Um, I used to steal his pens,” Orion says, running an embarrassed hand through his hair as he looks around at us. “He was my tutor, when I was kid. Sir?” he asks, focusing again on the Priest as he begins to wander away. “Are you all right? Can I…help you get somewhere?”

“You must get back to the sky, little moon,” the Priest murmurs, laughing a little under his breath and patting Orion fondly on the head. “I have much to do – have to…research…”

“Oh, Orion, help him,” Laila says, pressing her hands to her chest as her heart clearly goes out to this old man.

Orion nods to her and then goes to take the scrolls from the High Priest, clearly intending to help, though the Priest hastily pulls them away, clutching them protectively to his chest. “Mine!” he snaps, glaring around, his eyes seeming to fasten on no-one. “Only I…reading the old…the charts, the calendar…”

Orion sighs as the man starts to wander towards the large arching entrance and who knows what beyond – a room or a desk. “He wasn’t always like that,” Orion says, watching him go, his voice sad. “Growing up he was sharp and quite the taskmaster.”

“Fond of you, though, moon prince,” Anton says, giving Orion a sad little smile that the Prince returns.

All of our heads turn back to the entrance when the High Priest trips again, this time dropping half of his scrolls. Behind me Orion groans but I’m already on the move, dashing to the Priest’s side and then falling to my knees to help.

“Here, let me carry these,” I say, gathering the scrolls up into my arms.

“No!” the Priest nearly shouts, his voice wavering as he reaches for his scrolls, his hand finding my shoulder. “They are mine! You must not –“

But as I stand his voice fades and the High Priest stares at me in shock. Rapidly, he blinks three or four times, his eyes clearing, a great veil seeming to drop from his eyes. “The countermeasure…the prophecy fulfilled,” he whispers.

“What?” I ask, unnerved, stepping away a bit even as Orion, Anton, and Laila rush to my side.

“She is – she is prophecy!” the Heigh Priest says, his voice elated as he looks around at all of us. “Do you not see it!? Orion! We have found her! She is your bride!”

“Sir,” Orion says, his tone at once confused and happy to see the old Priest so much clearer. “What happened? A moment ago you seemed…forty years older than you were – confused and feeble –“

“She!” the High Priest says, nodding enthusiastically and turning to gaze at me with a wide smile. “She has healed me! Do you not see!? She is the prophecy – fulfilled!”

I take a step away from the Priest and his hand falls from my shoulder even as he laughs with delight.

“I’m sorry, young lady,” he says, realizing that I am – of course – a person and not some prophecy on a page. “I don’t mean to frighten you – it is just such a joyous day!”

“What is happening?” Laila whispers, looking around at us.

“Junie healed him,” Anton murmurs, crossing his arms as his face twists in confusion, stepping so close to my side that I can feel the starlight tingle of him along my left arm.

“I did not,” I snap, glaring at him. “He just touched my shoulder –“

“The curse,” the Priest says, laughing and smiling at me, warm. “Do you not see, child?” he steps close again, reaching for me, hesitating as if I am some sacred relic he is not worthy to touch. “You are she – she who unites the realms – the sun within the darkness – god, you even fit the description perfectly – eyes vivid as spring grass, hair as bright as the rising sun, but veiled in darkness –“

“But Junie’s hair is black,” Laila whispers, confused.

“She dyes it,” Anton explains, dry.

I snarl and jab an elbow at his ribs.

“Junie,” the man says, stepping towards me, reverent. “Is that – may I know this to be the name of our Savior? The promised Bride who brings Life to Death?”

“Um,” I say, feeling very awkward about all of this. “My name is Juniper. Juniper Sinclair. But I don’t think that I –“

“Oh, no,” the Priest says, laughing and looking around at us. “You are – it can only be you. Don’t you see? You have already broken my curse – the confusion that Darkness laid upon me so many years ago. Only she can break it – I saw the curse in the moment he cast it! I laid a hasty countermeasure – only when I felt her touch - the mate of the Crescent Prince, the Heir – would my curse be broken. You are she.”

I step away, leaning close to Anton, deeply uncomfortable with this.

“Darkness,” Orion says, going tense as he reaches for and grasps the High Priest’s arm. “What curse? Why did he do that?”

“Because I figured out his little trick,” the Priest laughs, shaking his head and looking again at me like he can’t take his eyes away. “The calendar – he changed it, fooled your father and every Priest in this room. Fooled me for a long time, too! Yes! The alignment that signals the end of the current monarch’s rein?”

We all go tense at the mention of this.

“It comes not at the half-year – as we always thought. No,” he shakes his head, excited, “it comes as the Great Moon reaches its full point in the Month of the Wolf. Much, much earlier.”

Anton, Laila and I look around at each other in confusion, but then snap our gazes to Orion as he groans and covers his face with his hands. “Oh no. Ohhh no.”

“What, Crescent Prince?” the Priest says, stepping towards Orion and placing his hand on his shoulder. “What is wrong?”

“How soon is that, Orion?” Anton asks, his voice full of dread.

“It’s in two weeks,” Orion murmurs against his palms. My stomach drops as my eyes go wide. “We have…two weeks to figure this out. Not eighteen.”

“But what’s there to figure out!” The Priest says, his voice full of joy as he moves his hand from Orion’s shoulder and gestures towards me. “You have already found her – your mate and your bride!”

I stop breathing as everyone in our little group turns their eyes to me. My wolf sits on her haunches in my soul, lifting her nose to give a mournful howl.