Chapter 4
We were buried in scrolls when the call came.
The crystalline bowl of water that always sat on the table shimmered and rippled, ringing gently like a Tibetan singing bowl. The surface smoothed out, and a face appeared in the water. Bran rushed to the bowl, cupping it gently with both hands.
“Ah, hello there, young priestess. You have more news for us?”
I peered over his shoulder. I couldn’t hear the whole conversation, since the words of whoever was on the other end could only be heard in the mind. Water fae could communicate through any water source – the rest of us relied on Valhallan water to connect with sacred or consecrated waters above in Midgard.
I caught sight of the face in the bowl and gasped. Without thinking, I elbowed my father out of the way and grabbed the bo
