“Of course I did.” She huffs, slightly exasperated.
The truth I’ve dreaded all along has never been clearer. What was merely monsters in the night are now walking these halls. The vicar will do anything to tighten his grip on me—on this city. Even if it means killing my mother.
“Everything I do, dear, is to keep you safe, even when you can’t see it.” Her hands tighten on my shoulders, refusing to let go. “It was my job to know exactly how I was being used against you.”
“The Mercy Knights, even as a page, isn’t like the Tribunal. Once I’m through, I’ll have more freedom. I can—”
“He won’t wait that long,” she says, calm in the face of my rising panic.
“Why? Why is he so urgent now?” I ask, dreading the truth. This is more than me being in the Tribunal and out of the way. I finally drew from the Font without a sigil. He’s so close to getting everything he ever wanted. Of course he’d start tidying loose ends.
She holds my gaze, glances away for half a breath—long enough that I think she’ll tell me. But she doesn’t, leaving me to assume I’m right. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’re safe, so focus on staying safe.”
“I deserve to not be kept in the dark anymore, Mum,” I say in a rush, fury helping my words gain speed. “You never tell me anything I need to know!”
Her gaze darts to the door. “Keep your voice down, Isola.Please.”
“Then tell me what’s going on. What’sreallygoing on. There’s more to this, I know there has to be. What am I missing?”
We lock eyes, but I refuse to give in. I’ve been giving in my whole life. It’s about time I started standing my ground. Especially now. The vicar will stop at nothing to force me to draw from the Font directly again—and something in my mum’s expression has my heart racing faster.
“There is a mighty force drawing on the Font.”
“What?”
Her eyes dart to the door again, then back to me, her fingers nervously raking through her hair, snagging on curls. “A weapon, or what will become a weapon unlike any other. Something your father helped create. The vicar plans to use it to go on the offensive.”
My thoughts immediately go to Valor’s sword. In the Grand Chapel of Mercy, his legendary blade is held by a statue of his likeness. But that sword would be ancient, not something Father helped make. Unless he modified it? No, the vicar would never allow it.
“What?”For a second, that’s the only word I know, laced with fear and panic. “Offensive?” The knights venture forth on their hunts from time to time as resources allow. But at most it’s searching for what small game they can find, or killing wounded dragons on nearby mountain ledges. Not a full-on offensive.
“Against the Elder Dragon…and soon,” she finishes, as though it wasn’t bad enough already.
“I’m not— Vinguard isn’t ready.”
“Don’t fret. Stay the course, Isola.”
My skin feels tight, the room smaller, as I stare into her eyes creased with worry. Even the air smells different—colder, sharper, as though it has blown down from the high peaks that loom over Vinguard, emanating from the Elder Dragon himself.
“Easy for you to say,” I snap before I think better of it. “Easy to saydon’t fretwhen you’re not the one expected to take Valor’s sword and go up against theElder Dragon.” My voice cracks onElder. The Creed says the beast is the oldest of them, the leader, and the heart of their power.
“You’ll be fine.” Her voice is steady—too steady—like she’s reading a script.
“You don’t know how I feel.” I swat her hands and back away, wrapping my arms around myself and hanging my head.
Mum just stands there, a pillar of calm in the flickering lamplight. “I can only imagine the pressure.”
“No, Mum, more than that. You don’t know what it feels like underneath my skin. The nightmares of something trying to claw its way out of me.” I look at her through a curtain of hair. “Tell me, please…am I cursed? Is that why you made me the tinctures? Why you risked everything to get me one?”
A beat of silence.
“Do not let this be like that night. Do not leave without telling me,” I whisper, pleading.
“You are not cursed.” Her words are gentle but leave a hollow echo in the small room. “But you are not like the rest of us, either, Isola. You’re special.”
If it were anyone else, I’d groan atspecial, but with her it’s different. Mum doesn’t use that word like the rest do—she doesn’t mean Valor Reborn.
“The tinctures help regulate your Ether.”
