Her eyes flicked to her son, and Will flinched.Flinched, asif she had hit him. Aya’s body tensed, but Will laid a hand on her thigh and squeezed gently.
Not worth it. Lorna was not worth it.
‘You said that with training, I may be able to garner such power,’ Aya began. ‘But the Vaguer … they said in order to survive the Decachiré, one had to yield to the darkness of one’s soul. I …’ Aya trailed off, the words fumbling over themselves.
She didn’t think she could survive such a thing.
‘The Vaguer certainly have a morbid academic interest, don’t they? And yet even they, like so many, fall victim to the propensity to see only one truth.’ Lorna looked her over, her head cocking slightly. ‘We are not one thing, Aya. We are who wechooseto be. Who we tell ourselves we are. You, in your guilt and shame, told yourself you were dark. And so you fed your raw power that darkness, creating boundaries on your power that were never meant to exist in the first place and making you ill when you tried to use it. You believed in your darkness so firmly that in your rage, you were willing to sacrifice yourself to it entirely; to let it consume you, as it almost did when you called down the veil. That’s what Natali sensed in you. That’s what the relic brought out in you. I have no doubt that if you were to fuel yourself with something better, another truth you choose, your power would react differently.’
It had, Aya realized. When it speared across the square to save Tova. When she sensed Will’s anguish. When she healed him.
Will’s thumb swiped across her thigh, as if he, too, were remembering.
‘That voice … that voice that was urging me on …’ Aya whispered.
‘Your own fear, ruling you because you let it.’ Lorna leaned forward in her chair, her blue eyes luminous. ‘You faced your greatest regret in the desert. Shined light on it. And when you were lost to rage, you made a choice. You sacrificed yourself to save others. That is not a choice that yields a soul to darkness. Nor is it the choice of someone whose true nature is purely dark. Both live within you; as they do in all of us. Your power does not decide – you do.’
Aya’s eyes burned. ‘But the Vaguer left me for dead in the desert.’
Lorna shrugged. ‘Again, we can be limited by our desire to seek a single truth. I have no doubt you gave them quite the scare. Perhaps they thought you had given yourself over to darkness entirely, and were seeking immortality next.’
Aya wasn’t sure what to believe about her essence … was still too afraid to hope. But she tucked the Saj’s information away until she could have the strength to examine it fully.
‘Why help us now?’ Will asked.
Lorna bit her lip. ‘When you came here seeking answers … I believed it was on behalf of Gianna.’
‘And now?’ he muttered.
She stared at him for a long moment, something softening in her gaze. ‘The prophecy is underway. It’s up to you to decide what you do with what you’ve learned about the veil. Up to you to decide to trust.’
There was more she wasn’t saying – Aya could see it in the way she pursed her lips. But Lorna was turning her attention back to Aya.
‘You look just like your mother,’ she mused. Aya raised a brow, and Lorna smiled, this time with a touch of sadness. ‘Stay anchored to the light. Because as you saw in the desert, darkness, with your power … it could be catastrophic.’ Aya felt Will stiffen next to her, but the Saj continued. ‘If youneed a reminder …’ She stood, walking to a small cabinet on the far side of the living room. She unlocked a box and lifted out a silver chain from which hung a small, inverted triangle divided into four sections. Aya’s heart stopped in her chest.
Her mother’s necklace.
‘It was found in the wreckage after the storm hit,’ Lorna explained as she handed it to her. ‘Gale sent it with my things. I suppose he believed it was mine. Let her love anchor you. Let it guard your heart. You decide your essence, Aya. No one else.’
70
Aya could feel the tension radiating from Will as they rode back to the palace stables, the silence between them heavy now. It only made their arrival more jarring. Stable-hands grabbed their horse while attendants ran ahead to the palace to announce their safe return. The sudden burst of activity was overwhelming.
And yet they found themselves alone on the short walk back to the palace, Will with that calculating look in his eyes as he kept his gaze locked on the path ahead. The silence continued to grow until Aya thought she’d explode.
‘That’s why you ultimately decided to join the Dyminara,’ she said as she stopped beside one of the towering trees that lined the path. Will turned back to her, his hands sliding into his pockets as he waited; as if he knew she was still putting the pieces together and was content to let her.
‘Lorna told you the prophecy was why she fled. That’s how you knew without a doubt it was real. And you already suspected it was me.’
‘I’d already been training for combat, as you well know,’ Will sighed as he took a step closer to her. ‘But yes. I had two reasons, really. I thought getting closer to Gianna might reveal why Lorna had been so desperate to flee. She never told me about her vision.’
‘Do you agree with her? Do you believe Gianna would do something so drastic?’
Will let out a hard breath. ‘I don’t know,’ he admitted gravely. ‘But as for suspecting it was you … I didn’t know forsure. But the day we delivered the news of your mother’s death, I sensed something different about you. I was reaching out with my power, expecting to calm you. To take away your grief. But you shut me out entirely. And it wasn’t just an ordinary shield. I’d never felt anything like it.’ He raked his fingers through his hair, letting out a soft laugh. ‘Until the Athatis,’ he added wryly. ‘When I returned from that trip to Trahir, I joined the Dyminara and figured I’d keep an eye on you. I didn’t know what I would do if itwasyou.’
His face was open and honest as he continued.
‘For two years, I watched you. One day, early in our training, we were sparring, and you were strong, and beautiful, and so utterly unafraid of me it was almost laughable. And even though I knew you hated me for what my father did to your mother, even though I could feel your anger and your disgust … I could feel your intrigue, too. You didn’t talk to me like Dunmeaden’s Dark Prince. And for the first time since I learned my mother was alive, I found myself feeling something other than anger.’
