Chapter 17

The quill moves before I even know I’ve decided. Black ink—no, not ink, something thicker, like shadow made liquid—bleeds onto the glowing page of the Book of Fates. My hand shakes, but the letters are clear, ruthless. E V A M I L L E R. The moment the last stroke lands, the entire chamber inhales. The pillars shudder. The chains of light hanging from the invisible ceiling flare white-hot, then dim to ash-gray. The Book itself vibrates under my palm like a living thing, like I’ve...