‘Aya,’ Will murmured, ‘you remember my mother.’
69
Will’s mother was alive, and she was in Rinnia. It seemed Aya had finally learned where he’d been sneaking off to.
She tried not to stare at Lorna, who sat in a worn armchair across from the couch she and Will occupied. There was no warmth between mother and son. Will kept his body angled toward Aya, his arms braced on his knees.
‘I’d love to know the reason behind your visit,’ Lorna finally said stiffly, her brows raised as she took a sip from her tea.
‘Spare me, for once in your godsdamn life, from your lies,’ Will growled. ‘You know exactly why we’re here. You know exactly who she is. You identified her power the moment you opened the door.’
Aya cut her eyes to him, but Will kept his focus wholly on his mother, even as he muttered to her, ‘I sensed her shock.’
If Lorna had detected her power, then that meant …
Another wave of cool surprise hit Aya.
‘You’re a Saj of the Maraciana,’ Aya breathed.
‘No,’ Lorna said coolly. ‘But I have studied alongside them, and have developed my affinity in the same such way.’ Her chin rose as she surveyed her son. ‘Do you hate me so much that you’d bring death to my door?’
Will sat back, his leg pressing against Aya’s as he took a shuddering breath. ‘Gianna won’t know you’re involved.’
Aya’s mug thunked against the worn wooden table as she set it down. ‘Someone better start explaining what the hells is going on.’ She turned to Will, her jaw aching with how hard she gritted her teeth. ‘Now.’
His gray eyes softened as they locked on her, the warmth of his body seeping into her as he shifted. ‘Five years ago, I was visiting Trahir on Council business. I’d just left a tavern one night when who should appear in an alleyway but Lorna.’
Aya remembered that trip. It was just before they’d begun their official training for the Dyminara. Will had been gone for weeks, and when he’d come back, he’d seemed even colder and more lethal than when he’d left.
‘I thought, at best, I was drunk out of my mind. At worst, I was losing it. Ryker was there, and he managed to subdue me long enough to bring me here to speak privately, where I learned the truth: that all those years ago, she’d faked her death and fled to Trahir.’
‘Why?’ Aya breathed, looking to Lorna.
‘Enough,’ Lorna hissed, her blue eyes gleaming with anger. But Will continued on, his tone calm and vicious.
‘Because Lorna isn’t just a Saj. She’s a Seer. And she’s a descendent of the line who foretold the prophecy of the Second Saint.’
Aya stared at Will, her frustration building.
No.
Will had proven himself to her time and time again. If he had kept Lorna from her, he had good reason. Aya’s jaw shifted as she took in the Saj. The same dark fury she’d seen in Will’s own features sat in her face. Aya had always assumed his quiet temper came from his father. But looking at Lorna, it was clear to see he was his mother’s son.
‘Are you satisfied?’ Lorna hissed as she stood. ‘Is this your idea of punishment for my failures as a mother?’
‘What punishment?’ Aya demanded. ‘What do you know of the prophecy?’
Lorna whirled to her. ‘I will not risk my life for you.’
Aya turned to press Will for answers, but he was on his feet, his chest heaving as he flung a finger toward her. ‘She almost lost her life to the Vaguer because of your selfishness; because yourefusedto help. If you think this is about Gianna, then you’re a fool.’
The color drained from Lorna’s face as she slowly sank back into her seat. ‘No one survives a search for the Vaguer,’ she rasped.
Aya simply stared at the woman, her brow furrowed as she swallowed her questions about her queen. ‘I did. But not before I almost lost myself to whatever darkness their relic brought forward. I saw the veil. And had I continued to listen to the darkness’s call, I would have tried to destroy it.’
Lorna closed her eyes, a flicker of pain flashing across her face. ‘It’s already happening,’ she breathed, more to herself than to them. ‘Tell me exactly what you saw.’
Aya glanced at Will, noting the look of surprise that crossed his face. He hadn’t expected Lorna to comply. Which meant this … this had been a visit not of calculation, but desperation.
