Blood of Mystery Read Online Free Page A

you.”
    Aryn’s sapphire eyes were concerned as her voice sounded in Grace’s mind.
Are you all right, sister?
    “I’m fine,” Grace said aloud. While Lirith and Aryn seemed comfortable speaking across the Weirding when others were present, Grace avoided it if she could. Despite what King Boreas might think, she really wasn’t all that adept at intrigue; it took so much more energy than being obvious.
    She sat down—adjusting the folds of her gown, which was similar to Aryn’s but a pale green—and poured a cup of
maddok
, breathing in the slightly spicy fragrance. Only after she took a sip did she realize that the others were still gazing at her. She glanced at Falken. “You were hoping to learn something more about Mohg, weren’t you? Something that could help prevent his returning to Eldh.”
    Falken nodded, his faded blue eyes grave. The sun in the courtyard seemed to go thin. Grace could feel it: the shadow attached to the thread of her life. They all had their shadows, she knew. She had passed through hers when the demon tried to consume her, and while she hadn’t defeated it, it was behind her now. The shadow might have made her who she was, but it was up to her to determine what she would be.
    However, in passing through her shadow, she had exhumed memories she had forgotten as a means to survive, memories from twenty years ago: the night the orphange had burned down. She knew now what she had seen that night. The orphanage’s cook, Mrs. Fulch, being made into an ironheart. The bright, baleful form of the wraithling. And the figure emblazoned on the tapestry in the forbidden upstairs room: ancient, primal, its one staring eye filled with desire and hate.
    It was Mohg, Lord of Nightfall. The Old God who feared the coming of men and tried to claim Eldh for his own, only to be banished from the world by the alliance of the Old and New Gods—an alliance that could never happen again, for the Old Gods had since faded into the Twilight Realm. Somehow Mohg had found his way to Earth; his likeness in the Beckett-Strange Home for Children had proved that. He sought to use Earth as a bridge to Eldh, to lay claim to it once again, and to cast it under the gloom of night forever.
    “Well,” Melia said, regarding Falken, “did you find anything at the library?”
    He gazed into his empty cup. “Nothing that we don’t already know: how Mohg drank the blood of the dragon Hriss to gain the dark wisdom of how to claim Eldh for his own; how he tried to reach the Dawning Stone, to break the First Rune and remake Eldh in his image; and how the New Gods and Old Gods banded together, tricking Mohg into stepping beyond the circle of the world, then closing the way behind him, banishing him forever.”
    Aryn clutched her good left arm around herself, shivering despite the sunshine. “Only he wasn’t banished forever. Not if he finds a way back.”
    Beltan wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry about what hasn’t happened yet, cousin. Mohg won’t get back—not if Falken has his way.”
    A small, black form hopped up onto the table—Melia’s kitten. Somehow, Grace had gotten used to the fact that the kitten never seemed to get a day older. Its golden eyes gleamed as it started stalking toward a bowl of milk. Melia picked the kitten up, and it let out a petulant
mew
.
    “So you found nothing else, then?” Melia said, petting the kitten as it struggled to get free. “I thought Briel would be a better record keeper than that.”
    The bard grunted. “You’re not the only one. Most of the books were falling apart or never finished at all. And there was one thing I found especially confusing. In the oldest of the books that recounted the story of Mohg, there was a passage that mentioned ‘those who were lost beyond the circle.’ But the book never said who they were. Do you have any idea what it might mean?”
    Melia lifted the wriggling kitten to her cheek; the little creature seemed to forget its