“The tinctures are designed to manage the flow of Etherlight within you. Even if your mother and I couldn’t figure out what the sigil does, it does seem to increase your ability to draw on the Font. You were always inclined toward Etherlight, but after the attack, everything was different.”
“And if you minimize the flow of Etherlight in me with a tincture, you postpone me drawing upon the Font without a sigil.” Or, seemingly without a sigil, since we don’t know what the one etched into my chest does. “So the vicar couldn’t get what he wants,” I finish, pulling away.
The tinctures weren’t suppressing a dragon from within. They were suppressing my abilities. Maybe, all along, I had Valor’s power—it just wasn’t safe for me to manifest it. Because the second I did, the vicar would at last have what he wanted, and he’d no longer have any use for me. He’d steal this power and wash his hands of me.
“If all this is true, Father, why would you say I should give in tohis demands now? Why would I draw Etherlight without a sigil, even if I can?”
“Time is running out. The vicar made you Valor Reborn, Isola. He can unmake you just as easily,” he says. An objection buds within me, but I don’t dare to speak it. The Mercy Knights listened to me in the sundering pits because they viewed me as Valor, didn’t they? And if I can control the Mercy Knights…who has the real power here? “You must buy the rest of us time. We’re close, Isola, to solving this. But your mother and I need a little bit longer.”
“I thought you hated Mum?” I whisper.
“We might not have been the best partners romantically. But that doesn’t mean we can’t work together in other ways. I respect her more than you know.”
“And you never believed I was actually Valor Reborn?” I go to relax my grip, but he doesn’t, so we stay, every word whispered and hasty.
“No. I never believed you were Valor Reborn. But I believed that you needed to oblige the vicar to keep yourself and the rest of us safe while we figured out the best path. And you must oblige him for just a little longer, Isola. The Tribunal is almost over, and when it is finished—when you get into Mercy, everything will change.”
What he’s saying… It’s like I’ve waited a lifetime to hear these words. Dreamed of this moment, never realizing he understands me so completely. Proof that he was on my side, not the vicar’s. And now that I know, I feel foolish for believing anything else.
My father is mine, not the vicar’s. And it’s our whole family against that horrible man.
Without warning, the door opens, revealing the vicar, and the air in the room is suddenly colder and thinner.
“Good, you’re awake.” His eyes dart between me and my father. “A touching reunion.”
“It is. But I also shared with my father what I uncovered in the Font.”
“Good,” he praises. “And how are you feeling? Are you still able to draw on Etherlight without a sigil?”
I glance at my father, and he holds my gaze steadily. I borrow his bravery and the conviction in his words. This is all part of the plan. Even if I don’t know the full scope of what the plan is, I have faith in the love of my family.
I hold out my hand and find the connection with the Font easier than ever before. Etherlight flows through me, souring my stomach and making my head spin. I’m still exhausted, but I push through, ignoring the slimy sensation that coats the underside of my skin. I focus on the Etherlight flowing through me. The magic he demanded I bring forth during years of training. I never could before, but this time, a tiny flame appears in my empty palm. It dances in the vicar’s eyes like a fire that could threaten to burn down all of Vinguard.
He inhales slowly, as though he could breathe in the raw power that I’ve collected. As though I’m offering him the greatest gift he could imagine.
He takes a few steps forward, staring only at the flame. I close my fist, extinguishing the fire, and his eyes flick to mine. The spark I saw earlier still gleams within them. His chest rises and falls slowly, as though he’s forcing himself to breathe evenly to conceal the wild excitement that I see behind his facade.
I hope whatever it is my parents have schemed, whatever has given my mother a reason to disappear, will bring an end to this soon. There’s less than one week now in the Tribunal.
Because whatever the vicar has planned for my power—I now know he’s not going to stop at anything to take it.
46
After a few more hours of rest and a hot dinner, the inquisitors give me fresh clothes and blindfold me. They take me through back passages, not pulling the strip of fabric from my eyes until I’m in a familiar prayer room. Alone, I make my way back to Saipha’s room.
“Isola!” Saipha throws her arms around me the moment I enter. I squeeze her tightly, but my gaze is over her shoulder, locked with Lucan’s.
Are you all right?I mouth, not knowing how much he has shared with Saipha about the Font.
He nods with a slight smile and eyes as full of relief as the Font is filled with Etherlight.
“I was so worried about you,” Saipha says as she pulls away.
“Me too.” Lucan’s voice is soft and deep. I barely avoid shifting uncomfortably.
“What happened? You were taken away by the vicar, and then Lucan was summoned. He said you went to pray before the Font?” Saipha looks between us.
“Something like that.” I fill in broad strokes for Saipha, leaving out the way Lucan held me, even though I feel it over my whole body. I also leave out drawing Etherlight without a sigil and the details of my father’s discussion. Even though I trust them, that feels like too dangerous a secret to share for now.
