Seraiah let herself into her room at the Grumbling Bear Inn and shed her cloak. A fire already burned in the small hearth, likely courtesy of Kestrel. Kai and Sterling were downstairs in the main room, working on Sterling’s magic again. Based on the sighs she’d heard, it wasn’t going well.

Though these days it was hard to tell with Sterling, as she seemed to sigh over everything.

Seraiah arranged the stubby candles she’d collected from around the inn on a small table she’d dragged inside her room. As she was lighting them, she heard the telltale thump of Sterling’s tread on the stairs.

She paused a moment, listening for a knock on her door, but none came. Instead, the footsteps passed by her door and continued down the hall. It wasn’t entirely unexpected since Sterling came to her less and less, but Seraiah still couldn’t help hoping her sister might want to talk. She hesitated to push her, though. None of them truly knew what Sterling had been through in her time with the mages, but Seraiah believed she would open up when she was ready.

Seraiah returned to lighting her candles and then settled in at the table. She briefly touched the green ribbon she’d taken from Ariya’s room. The past two nights had been spent trying to call a vision with it, but tonight, she wanted to do something different. She pulled the small leather-bound journal Kai had gifted her in front of her.

As excited as she’d been to receive it, a part of her was also afraid of what she might find inside. What if all her attempts at calling her visions were for nothing? She knew it was silly. It would be better to know than to keep wasting her time, but still she’d hesitated. During the day, she’d combed the rest of the castle for clues of the missing people and at night, she’d clutched Ariya’s ribbon and pictured her friend in her mind. It had been many weeks since she’d seen her friend—almost an entire season—and her image had grown fuzzy. Seraiah felt like she recalled less of her every day.

She was running short on time, and she needed to seek answers any way she could.

Seraiah opened the front cover. There on the inside in spidery handwriting was a name.

"Atherly Zandion," she whispered it to herself, tracing a finger over the letters. The name was at once familiar and foreign to her, but she couldn't quite figure out why. Kai had said this was the old elven court seer from when he was a child. She hadn’t asked, but she assumed the man must have passed by now, since no one had spoken of him while she was in Nyrene.

She turned her gaze to the first page. There was a date in cramped writing at the top of the right-hand corner. It appeared as though the writer had added it as an afterthought. Seraiah had to squint and bring the book close to her face to make out the numbers. If she was reading it correctly, it seemed this first entry was from over thirty years ago.

I have been in this strange new world for more than a week now. The people who took me from my home look to be human except for their curiously pointed ears, and there have been whispers of these people being magic wielders, but I have seen no evidence of this as of yet. I have been kept away from the other humans, but I know they are here. I have seen them with my own eyes, but when I tried to call out to them, they ignored me. I wonder why? What would make them ignore another human? The next time I see them, I will have to try again. I need to know more about this world and what is expected of me. I need to know if I will ever get home to my wife or see my daughter's face again. Thus far, my captors haven't seen fit to answer any of my questions. I fear the worst.

The next few entries continued on in the same manner.

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Seraiah sighed and sat back. This wasn't what she was looking for. There was no mention of any dreams or seer abilities. Perhaps this was why Virelai had given the journal to Kai without asking anything in return—it was entirely useless.

She continued turning pages, scanning instead of fully reading them.

“No. No. No,” she murmured with each one. More observations and talk about the elves—nothing useful.

Seraiah rubbed at her gritty eyes. The fire in the hearth had died down and cold was creeping into the room. Maybe it was time to go to sleep. She wanted to be at the castle again early tomorrow.

One more entry, she decided. She would read one more entry, and then she would sleep.

Turning another of the delicate pages, she found the next entry was dated ten years in the future.

I am able to call the dreams at will now.

Seraiah jerked upright, suddenly wide awake. This was it.

I have practiced using objects belonging to specific people I wish to see, and that seems to bring them on more readily. The object has to be something precious to the person, however, and not simply any belonging. Unfortunately, it seems I must be holding the object as I fall asleep. I am not yet able to summon a vision while awake. This will take more study. The Queen still asks that I report all dreams to her, even the mundane. She is particularly interested in the dreams that relate to the kingdom and its welfare, but I have little to tell her of such matters.

None of this information was new to Seraiah, but it was nice to know Kestrel had been right about using objects as a focus. Her eyes strayed to Ariya’s ribbon. Perhaps the reason she hadn’t been able to see her yet was because the ribbon hadn’t meant anything to her friend other than something pretty to put in her hair. She’d need to go back and search her friend’s room for something else.

Seraiah turned the page and continued reading as another of her candles went out. There was only one remaining now, and it wasn't much more than a pool of wax. She could have gone to look for others, but she couldn’t be bothered right now. She wasn’t planning to stay up for much longer. Only a little more, and then she would go to bed. The rest could wait for morning.

She skimmed the next few entries, which continued talking about objects and various dreams Atherly had about the occupants of the castle. None of the names were familiar to her. Then he experimented with sleeping potions. The Queen was now pregnant with her first child and was pushing for more visions of the future.

Suddenly, the entries became rambling and were mostly nonsense, as far as Seraiah could tell. There were bits about talking animals, and one entry simply said beware of the sheep. The writing grew harder to read the further she read, and Seraiah questioned the man's sanity.

With the ramblings also came more visions, and Seraiah finally recognized their subjects. Atherly wrote about one dream of a little silver-haired boy who carried a weight on his shoulders and a deep sadness in his eyes. He could only be referring to Kai. The prince may have grown up, but he’d shed neither the weight nor the sadness.

The next entry took on a different tone. Atherly was excited. He could now call the visions at will. Seraiah bit her lip. This was what she needed to know. If she could call visions at will, none of them would ever have to worry. She could find the missing people and protect those she loved.

I have finally found it. The herbs I needed were right under my nose all along. I should have asked to visit the

To her disappointment, the entry cut off abruptly, ending in a smear of ink as though he had held his quill on the page for too long, allowing the ink to bleed out. Seraiah's candle flickered, and she knew at any moment it was going to go out.

Hurriedly, she scanned the next few entries and found they were more bits of nonsense. She’d almost reached the end of the little book at this point. One more page, she promised herself, just one more.

The next entry chilled her to the bone.

I have made a grave mistake. I know now that I should never have tried to bring on the visions. The stronger they grow and the more I have, the weaker my mind becomes. My lucid days are now few and far between. More and more, my time is spent inside my head in a world of shadows and monsters. I can no longer tell what is real and what is a fabrication of my mind. I fear one day soon I will no longer come back. I will be forever stuck in this in-between world. It seems this is the fate of all seers who exercise their abilities. No one is meant to know the future, but it's hard to fight the curiosity. It is so very hard.

The candle took that moment to gutter out, leaving Seraiah to sit in the dark and ponder what this meant for her.