“This is it,” I said, ripping open the wine cellar’s curtain and marching back toward the painting of Hylos’s mother.
My ears strained at a small lilting that called me to the shrouded painting. Siren song, meaning magic was in its wake.
Arlo marched to my side. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” I answered, even though a part of me wasn’t. This place was, in so many ways, a dream that I wanted to linger within. But I couldn’t. Oakhaven needed me.
Arlo grasped a fistful of fabric and pulled it off the painting. We stepped back and looked at the woman who’d poured her heart and soul into the journal, the woman who’d loved a siren under the sea. Hylos’s mother, who loved him so much she sacrificed herself for his safety.
She was beautiful, poised and waiting. She had dark black hair and was dressed in a blue gown lined with umber fur. She had two piercing blue eyes.
My heart tripped.
Iknewthose eyes.
I cocked my head to the side, waiting for my eyes to adjust or for the portrait to change. But it didn’t. I stumbled back, and Arlo caught me. “What is it?”
I knew that face, from a long-distant memory frozen in ice and death.
Looking back at me, smiling softly, was my mother.
But how? There were no remaining paintings of my mother. Every mention of her was cleansed from this earth, struck out in her own blood.
Footsteps resonated through the halls. Someone was headed in our direction. Likely Hylos.
“Elowyn, we have to go,now,” Arlo demanded. “Do you know how it works?”
I shook my head no, still stunned by the painting.
Why was my mother’s portrait here? This had to be a mistake.
Arlo reached out a hand to the painting, but the textured surface of the canvas didn’t yield.
“Elowyn, think. What did the journal say?”
But I couldn’t think. I could only reach up to touch her. My mother. Could only reach for those eyes that looked back at me as a child the last day I saw her. Before her death. Before the world and my father discarded me.
The prayer beads glowed on my wrist, and a sound hummed in the air. Arlo clasped my hand, and in a heartbeat we were pulled into the painting.
Summer 5344 AT
With Nymphaea’s help, I have done it. Aegir said if you were a male, he wished to name you Hylos. It fits well with your sister’s name. How gorgeous you are, dazzling with blue hair and your mama’s eyes to match. The future king of the three great seas. I’ve spent all evening holding you, unable to look away, but soon the sun will rise and shed light on my truth, as it always has. So, I must return you to where you belong.
Be good, Hylos. Be strong. Be happy. Find your sister one day. The Guardians ordain her for greatness. I know it. As they do you, my son.
Chapter 40
Cold, black stone replaced the sleek marble of Hylos’s bedroom. The whiplash of the transportation made waves of nausea churn through me. Replacing Hylos’s fine wine cellar was a damp space occupied only by spiders that hung in webs in the dusty corners.
Spinning on my heel, I returned to the painting, searching for another glimpse of my mother’s face, only to see a worn painting of the sea coated in dust.
“It worked!” Arlo exclaimed. “Blessed be the Guardians! It worked!” He gathered me in his arms, but I didn’t embrace him back.
I was going to be sick.
“Elowyn, what’s wrong?”
I’d left the last remaining family I had on this earth. The last remaining member of my family who may have actually wanted me. I left behind mybrother. The room continued to spin. My heart was drumming in my ears. Hylos …Hyloswas my brother. Right there in front of me this whole time. My brother. The baby. The baby in mother’s stomach. It was not just her. It was her and him. They said he died, like all the other babies before.
