Under Ethan's fingers, the thorn-door throbbed as if it were alive.
The tightening of the silver thread around his wrist caused it to vibrate so intensely that blood was drawn.
"Don't!" The silver-haired boy grabbed his arm. "You're not ready to see what's—"
Ethan pushed forward.
The door screamed open the instant his blood touched the thorns.
There was an impossible forest beyond the entrance, with dozens of glass trees with woven light branches and roots buried in liquid shadow pools.
Children were floating inside each trunk, their faces frozen in silent cries.
The boy with the silver hair froze.
"The first vessels," he whispered. "The ones who came before you."
Ethan gasped in surprise.
There was a broken glass prison.
Empty.
"Who got out?" he demanded.
The children looked at one another.
"The Thirsty King's heir," said the girl with too many teeth.
…..
The clay cup's crack got wider overnight.
Mara watched in horror as black liquid oozed across her table, forming words that slithered like snakes.
"Three dawns left."
"There are two lies left."
"One truth to kill you."
Jarek noticed that a single sentence was spiraling up his forearm, causing his tattoo to bleed fresh ink.
"The future is not depicted in the cup. It displays her future."
…..
That night, the laughter was closer.
Ethan followed it to the edge of the ruins, where a new figure sat with the others, entwining threads.
This child wore a crown of thorns.
"You are late," the thirteenth child said without raising his head. "I've already unraveled two of your lifelines."
Ethan's silver thread burned.
A single strand broke.
Somewhere in the waking world, Mara gasped as her scar reopened.
…..
At dawn, the bark-skinned woman reappeared.
"Your family's first sin," she whispered, pressing a skeletal hand to Jarek's tattoo.
Visions erupted from the ink.
A child being taken from its cradle by a Ravenscroft ancestor.
Memories carved from flesh by a dagger.
A vow written in blood.
"We will forget so the world remembers."
Jarek was kneeling at the moment the vision broke.
The woman leaned down.
"Every memory they have stolen is with you. Now the Thirsty King's heir comes to collect."
…..
It was midnight when Ethan went back to the door.
There was now a faint vibration of light in the broken glass tree.
Something new glimmered inside its fractured hollow, a single golden thread.
Beside him, with a shining crown, the thirteenth child emerged.
"She was special, that one," they murmured. "The only vessel that ever escaped."
Ethan grabbed the golden thread.
And immediately knew it.
Mara's.
…..
The clay cup broke on the third morning.
Black liquid surged upward, revealing a perfect sphere as Mara scrambled back.
She was kneeling in front of the thorny door.
Jarek wrapped her throat in his tattooed hands.
There was a crown of thorns falling on Ethan's head, and his silver thread was cut.
There was a whisper as the sphere fell.
"All this happens tomorrow."