“Do you remember what I told you in Rinnia?” Lorna asked.
Of course she did. It was Lorna who had taken Aya’s doubt of Gianna and turned it into full-blown suspicion. It was Lorna who had planted the fear that Gianna, with her piousness and devotion, would do anything to stop the Decachiré from rising once more, including using Aya to call down the gods.
And it was Lorna who had told her no practitioner had reached the level of power to tear down the veil. NoVisya, except Evie. That even Aya, with the power she once thought rivaled Evie’s, would not have been able to.
Not yet.
We are who we choose to be.
Aya held the Saj’s stare and let her see exactly what sheknew she sought to find. And then she offered up something of her own.
“He was alive when I left the battle to face Gianna.”
Perhaps it was more than the woman deserved. But it was all Aya had; this was a confirmation she could give.
Lorna’s eyes fluttered shut, her chin dipping as she let that truth settle in her. When she looked at Aya again, sadness and regret dulled her gaze.
“That means nothing now.”
It was not an admonishment. It was the truth. And Aya accepted it with a heavy breath as she leaned back against the wall, her head tipping toward the Beyond.
“I know.”
29
It seemed that along with company, the Vaguer had convinced Evie a bath was warranted. What cleaning her was supposed to do for Aya’s power, she wasn’t sure, but she could hardly complain. Not when she’d gone so long without.
She hardly remembered the look of her feet without a layer of filth.
She let the Anima guard scrub her ruthlessly, savoring the rough scrape of the brush against her skin. She didn’t even wince when the Anima roughly tugged a comb through her sopping wet strands, her hair snarled from what had to be weeks without a brush.
All the while, her irons stayed locked on her wrists, the heavy chain dripping a trail of water as the Anima dragged her from the tub and thrust a towel into her hands. The shackles clanked as Aya dried herself off to the best of her ability, the Anima unfastening the chain only to tug a fresh slip over her head. It clung to her damp skin, the beige fabric worn and thin.
It was almost a relief when the Anima fastened the chain to her other wrist again. The thick iron felt like a protective barrier of sorts, a shield between a dress thin enough to be asecond skin and the rest of the world, who only ever wanted to cause her harm.
Her hair remained wet, sending trails of water dripping down her shoulders and spine as she followed the Anima back to her and Lorna’s cell.
But it wasn’t Lorna who waited for her on the bench.
“You almost look human,” Evie remarked as the Anima closed the door behind Aya. “She’s not here,” she added as she watched Aya scan the space for Lorna.
“Where is she?”
“Otherwise occupied,” Evie answered simply. “I didn’t realize you were fond of your beloved’s mother. My understanding is she hasn’t been very present in his life.” She glanced around the cell, her nose wrinkling in distaste. “Though I suppose certain circumstances might drive anyone to companionship.”
Another droplet of water slid down Aya’s bare arm, her skin beneath it pricking with the cold. She fought against a shiver as she watched the saint carefully.
Evie hadn’t visited her once without cause. It was an effort to not wrap her fingers around the chain between her cuffs, to not let Evie see the nerves that had her pulse fluttering beneath her skin.
Had Lorna shared one of her theories of the veil with her? Or had the saint discovered something else?
Control.Galda’s graveled voice was as clear in her mind as if she stood right beside her.
Evie stood, her hands brushing down the front of her robes. “You know of our troubles with the veil.”
It wasn’t a question, yet Aya kept her face passive. Answers, she’d long since learned, were found everywhere, even to things unasked.
Evie flashed a chiding smile. “You think I suspected she would not tell you? Again, you underestimate me, Aya.”
