Later that evening, inside the prisoner wagon, Douglas spoke. “You know they’ll hang you for what you did,” he said to Orion. The night was clear, and the air was cool. “Why are you so eager to rush toward that?”
Orion stared up at the night sky. “I did what I thought was right. I’m sure I have the Creator’s blessing,” he said, shifting to get comfortable. As he rolled onto his side, he winced in pain.
“I don’t think the Creator takes kindly to one of the Church’s priests allowing a heretic to cast spells on him,” Douglas muttered, his anger flaring at the thought. “You’ll be lucky if I don’t tell them.”
He paused for a moment, then added, “I could testify… in your favor. Maybe then you’d escape the hangman’s noose.”
15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiNSp6S0pjS
15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcDHlXlIYGN
Orion paused. “In return, I speak at your trial—in your favor?” He wanted to see how far Douglas would go.
Douglas nodded. “If you’re willing to denounce Lucas and his scheme to the council, we can shift the blame to Rhaine. Say it was her idea all along.”
Orion’s voice turned cold. “Lucas was the best of us... and you are the worst. I’d rather face the wrath of the Creator than conspire with a serpent in cloth like you.”
Douglas snarled. “Blah! Let’s see how brave you are when the noose tightens around your worthless neck.” He slumped against the side of the wagon, sneering. “It’ll be a sight—watching you sway at the gallows.”
15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiY9PTBfJjQ
Orion tried to ignore Douglas’s words. He focused instead on the pain in his leg. The wound throbbed with every heartbeat. In the moonlight, he saw a dark substance on his hand after touching it.
“It’s becoming gangrenous,” he whispered.
If the infection had truly reached that point, the flesh was already starting to die and rot. He knew then—his days were numbered. His eyes drifted toward the night, locking onto the faint flicker of light in Melissa’s window.
Across the way, Melissa and her new housemate, Elle, had settled in her room.
“Can you tell me about your parents, Elle?” Melissa asked, her voice soft but determined. She wanted, no, she needed to know more about the mysterious little girl.
Elle shrugged. “I don’t know… They were normal people. My father’s name was John. Mom was Sylvia.”
15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjt4PTpviPD
Melissa took out her Tarot cards and began to shuffle them. As she did, she whispered a silent prayer in her mind: Reveal the truth.
She drew a card and placed it gently on the table. It was the Farmer card.
She glanced at Elle. “Do you remember what this card is called?”
Elle studied it for a moment. “The Farmer card. It means patience,” she said with a confident nod.
Melissa smiled. “You’re right. Patience. Do your work… you cannot rush the harvest.”
Elle tilted her head thoughtfully. “Isn’t that what the Church is doing?”
Melissa blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean, Elle?”
“They’re rushing out to Silver Falls,” Elle said. “Are they trying to make the harvest of their work come sooner?”
Melissa studied her, a mix of admiration and concern on her face. “You’re very insightful for a little girl, you know that?”
15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡa6tEa683BV
Elle shrugged. “It won’t matter, though,” she said, sitting down beside Melissa.
Melissa looked at her, concern in her voice. “What do you mean by that? What won’t matter?”
Instead of answering, Elle tilted her head. “Why don’t you read another card?” she asked, genuinely curious.
Melissa hesitated, keeping her eyes on Elle as she slowly drew another card from the deck. “The reason it won’t matter is…” she began, flipping it over.
Elle giggled as the card was revealed.
Melissa raised an eyebrow and studied it cautiously. “The Jester. The fool of the court. Someone who hides behind a mask—meaning things are not always what they seem.”
Elle’s eyes lit up with recognition. “Tyler! He’s so funny to watch.”
Melissa quietly placed the deck on the table, her expression unreadable. After a brief pause, she spoke softly, “I think there’s more than one person wearing a mask right now.”
15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkz4GB9e3OL
Elle blinked. “Who else is wearing a mask, Melissa?”
Melissa chose her words carefully—she didn’t want to upset her. “I think… there might be a little girl who’s feeling scared right now. She’s putting on a brave face, wearing a strong mask. But deep down, she’s hiding something. Isn’t that right, Elle?”
Elle shook her head slowly. “I can’t think of anyone. Who do you think it is?”
Melissa took a steady breath. “I think that little girl… is you, Elle. You’re safe here. You can tell me anything.”
Her voice was soft, soothing, coaxing.
But Elle suddenly stood up.
“Elle, don’t go,” Melissa said gently.
Elle didn’t answer. She lowered her head and walked over to the window.
“If I took my mask off…” she began, but her words trailed off as something outside caught her eye.
“The wagon and Orion, they’re gone!” she cried, pointing out the window.
15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbic22ODoWu
Melissa rushed to the window, her eyes scanning the street. “Where did they go?” she asked urgently.
Elle only shrugged.
Without wasting another second, Melissa ran to the front door. Two guards stood firmly in place, blocking her path.
“Where is Brother Orion?” she demanded.
One of the guards responded calmly, “Brother Orion begged the driver to take him to Trandell. His condition has worsened.”
He handed her a folded piece of paper. “He told me to give you this.”
Still reeling, Melissa took the note and unfolded it with trembling hands. Her eyes moved quickly over the familiar handwriting.
15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgLPbJmT3kW
Forgive me, Nightingale.
I am not long for this world.
I cannot bear for you to watch me die slowly.
I may not survive the trip, but I need to make sure Douglas pays for what he did.
The dreams have gotten worse.
I won’t burden you with the horrors I’ve seen, but know this—River Hallow is not safe, not with Douglas and me still in it.
Prepare yourself, Nightingale.
Darker days are yet to come…
—Brother Orion
15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1yQ67PRY8s
Melissa tried to push past the guards, but they restrained her with ease.
“There’s nothing you can do,” one of them said gently. “I’m sorry.”
Defeated, Melissa returned to her room with Elle. She knelt to pick up her Tarot cards from the floor, but her hand trembled, and the deck slipped from her fingers. The cards scattered across the floor. Only two remained in her grasp.
Elle reached up and took one. “Why is this knight bleeding?” she asked.
Melissa looked at the card. “That’s the card for Betrayal,” she said softly. “The knight trusted someone they shouldn’t have. It means unseen forces are conspiring against you. It’s a warning.”
She paused, unsure whether the warning was meant for Orion… or for her.
Then she turned over the second card still in her hand.
It was the Farmer.
Melissa stared at it for a long moment, then looked at Elle, uncertainty flickering in her eyes.
The only thing she could think of was… Patience.
15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡerkIVjmU7s
--------------------------------------------------------
15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4r8NgSSkMF
Jirjin made his way from the tavern to the church. It had been a while since he last stepped inside, but here he was. The doors were locked. With Father Lucas gone, one of the army priests had taken over, and no one was allowed inside after dark.
“Because the Creator only cares about you during the daytime, it seems,” he muttered.
He tried the doors a few more times, but it was pointless. With a sigh, he followed the path behind the building until he reached the graveyard.
“I hate this place,” he said under his breath as he walked among the gravestones.
He stopped at a freshly dug grave.
“Good evening, Lucas,” he said, nodding at the mound of broken earth. “I suppose you know everything now.”
He looked up at the stars, silent for a long moment.
“I hope Alex comes back,” he murmured, lowering himself to the ground. From his coat, he pulled out a bottle, yanking the cork out with his teeth.
“Here’s to you, Lucas. Thanks for giving us a chance,” he said, raising the bottle in a solemn toast.
He took a long, burning gulp. “I hope it wasn’t wasted.”
ns18.118.212.165da2
