Mists of Velvet

garden. At first, I thought it was a dream, but then I knew it wasn’t. It felt so real. And when I could smell the flowers, I knew it couldn’t be a dream.”
    “And Carden?” Bran asked quietly.
    “I traveled through a tunnel. There was water in it, like a little canal. It wasn’t deep, only up to my knees. I didn’t know where I was going, but I followed the winding path, and it ended at a bank of stone steps. There were doors, and I . . .” She trembled and stepped closer to Keir. “I knew I had been there before.”
    Mairi reached for her and held her hand. “It’s okay, you don’t have to go on.”
    “I think I’ve finally figured out the riddle,” she said, her body steeling itself beside him. “ ‘A house of mourning, a garden of pain, a path of tears.’” She stared at Bran. “It was a cemetery. And I saw a statue of a gargoyle. In his hand was a torch, which was lit—like a lamppost. But the light within it flickered, like a flame. Maybe the flame you’ve been looking for?”
    “What is a cemetery?” Melor growled. “And why would you trust this human?”
    “A cemetery is hallowed ground where mortals bury their dead,” Keir snapped in reply. “And we trust this human, because she’s never been wrong, and her intentions are the purest of us all—unlike your dark thoughts and past, Melor.”
    “Enough,” Bran barked. “We will put aside our differences. Mortals and immortals alike are both affected by this prophecy. It will take all of us to discover the identity of the Dark Mage and destroy him and his apprentice. There is no room in our alliance for petty squabbles.”
    “Rowan,” Mairi asked quietly, “have you any idea which cemetery?”
    “No, but I feel most strongly that it is within the city. The surroundings definitely felt familiar to me. I need more time, though, to try to dissect the words, and to have more visions. Maybe I will see something familiar, such as the name of a church or something attached to the cemetery. I will keep trying. I know this riddle and my visions are the only clues to Carden’s whereabouts.”
    “Thank you,” Bran said. “Your help in this is crucial.”
    She nodded and, for the first time, Keir felt her fatigue as she pressed into him. He held her up with his arm, his heart feeling heavy. She looked exhausted, and there were dark circles beneath her eyes.
    “You had a vision because of a headache, didn’t you?”
    She nodded, her face flushing. She was looking at Drostan and Melor, and Keir knew she wanted her illness kept private.
    “Rest,” Bran ordered her. “There is still time to find my brother. I would not have you exhaust yourself.”
    Mairi was reaching for her friend when Cliodna flew into the study and landed on Keir’s shoulder. She began to sing in a high-pitched song that sounded a little frantic.
    “What is it, friend?” he asked.
    Her tiny wings were flapping furiously, and he picked her up, holding her in his palm. His little wren wanted him to see something.
    Keir had always preferred to practice his magick alone. But when Rowan entered his life, he had been forced to perform his divination magick before her and Sayer. He still didn’t like it, but he was becoming used to it. After the divination spell with Rowan, he felt slightly more at ease to do magick before others.
    Letting his mind still, he focused on the bird’s black eyes. Beside him, he felt Rowan’s body pressing into him. Normally, it would have been a distraction, but this time it felt good to have her with him.
    His vision narrowed, and his body became lighter as he focused on the bird. Then suddenly his spirit was lifted, and he was transported to another place.
    Keir found himself standing before a ramshackle cottage in the midst of a thick forest. Firelight flickered from behind the filthy window. Inside, he felt Rhys and heard his thoughts. The mortal was edgy, fear tainting his thinking. Keir tasted that fear on his tongue.
    The wren flew before him, and his concentration broke. The divination was over, and his spirit was once more reunited with his body.
    When his vision returned, he saw seven faces staring expectantly at him. “I know where Rhys is.”

    Rhys knew he wasn’t crazy. He’d seen enough magical, unexplainable shit in his lifetime to understand and believe that the Dark Mage could very well find Bronwnn through her vision.
    He had to get her out of there, before the bastard found her. Both of them had suffered