Chapter Forty-One — The Bone Throne Dream
Emerald's Point of View
The first time the Puppet Master found me, I was asleep.
This is important to note because everything that came before — every vision the moon goddess had ever sent me, every object reading that flooded my hands with someone else's history, every prophecy that arrived uninvited and took up residence in my bones — all of it had happened while I was awake. Conscious. Present enough to brace against it, to hold myself in the storm the way my mother had taught me, feet planted, breath steady, the self intact even when the vision tried to swallow it whole.
Sleep was supposed to be the reprieve.
Sleep was where I went to be nothing — not a seer, not a prophet, not the last of two bloodlines carrying the weight of a moon godde
