The Survivors: Point of Origin (book 2)

The Lay of the Last Survivor, pt. 1

            "Because we weren't supposed to tell Sadie unless it became relevant, and you would have told her anyway, Mom knew," Mark spat. Everett was displeased, but he couldn't argue with that.

            "Go get Adelaide!" I snapped. They did as I asked.

            When she appeared, I held up the copy of Beowulf. "What aren't you telling me?" I asked Adelaide.

She sighed. She'd had her own loyalty battle here. Hadn't she formed some kind of alliance with the elders? But she helped me anyway. "When Lizzie wrote the Fateor elixir in your book, she didn't copy it exactly. Her old spell book said 'Read prophecy from Bewoulf 1749-1752,' but I saw her write Revelations 1:3. She looked up Revelations 1:3 and saw Lizzie had only given you half of it by putting that—instructions to read a prophecy but no prophecy to read. So, I asked Mark for your copy of Beowulf before we left for Europe, and I made he and Ginny remember the lines. I didn't want to betray Lizzie..." she trailed.

            "But you hated to sabotage our search like Lizzie had," I said, understanding.

            She nodded. "What do you think it means?" she asked.

            "I don't know," I said, rubbing my temples, my eyes closed tight. "Clearly, she didn't want me to successfully make the Fateor elixir, but why?" I asked, pacing.

            "Sadie, what if she's never made the Fateor elixir?" Everett asked. "It would stand to reason that she wouldn't want you making it since she hasn't, which is probably why she sabotaged it in the first place."

            "Why do you say that?" I asked.

            "How would they have even gotten the blood?" Everett asked. A fair point. I'd thought of that when I spoke with Lizzie upon our return, but I hadn't thought she'd keep me from making the Fateor elixir just because she hadn't.

            "Thank you, Adelaide," I said, and she left us.

"Why would the prophecy have worked when it wasn't identical to whatever one Lizzie's referred to. She would never have read this version. I'd bet she has only ever read the version she gave Ben over a hundred years ago," I said.

            "So we need that version," Everett deduced.

"On it," Mark nodded, bounding out of sight. He came back with Ben in tow—not what I needed.

            "Don't blame me," Mark said. "He won't let go of it."

            Ben was clutching the book to his chest. "Why must you take everything?" he asked.

            "I just need to borrow it," I explained. "Please, Ben. Trust me. It's very important."

            Uneasy, Ben handed me the book. I opened it to line 1749. The page was simple, unmarked, and no different than every other page in the book. What was I missing?

"I need more Fateor."

            Mark rolled his eyes in a grand gesture. "Of course you do," he sighed.

"No, no way," Everett said sharply.

"The books are hiding something. I need to find out what," I said, not entertaining the protests.

            "You are incorrigible," Everett said, gritting his teeth.

"We've come too far to not do all we can," I said strongly.

"I'm with you," Mark said.

"What?" Everett screamed in outrage.

            I waited briefly to see if they lunged at each other, but once they didn't, I quickly began pouring together the ingredients like I'd done in England. "Hands," I said, and Mark obliged, holding out his hands to act as mortar and pestle as Everett's had. Once everything was together, I dug for my arrowhead and poison.