“For me, forgetting was a tragedy. I didn’t want to forget lest I was still needed in El’Ara. Lest there was any way I could figure out how to return to my home. Still, the memories slipped away. I forgot the name of the fae realm. I forgot that I’d come from another realm at all. I did my best to record what I did recall, and I passed that on to the Faeryn who’d been trapped outside the Veil, and later to their descendants. After a brief sojourn in human society, I settled with the Forest People for good, and they accepted me as one of their own. By then, I couldn’t remember much, but I knew we needed to protect this piece of land called Lela. I chose a moniker that would allow me to keep some semblance of my former self intact.”
“Why do you look like this?” Bernice asked, eying Ailan through slitted lids. “You asked me to suppress your magic over the last several days, and each day you’ve appeared younger. I held my questions upon your order, but if this is a time for answers, I’d like to know why you’ve had me keeping secrets from the rest of the commune.”
“This is my true appearance,” Ailan explained. “High Fae cease aging when they reach maturity and can maintain the same appearance until they take Last Breath.”
Cora puzzled over the last two words. She stated them like they were a specific title, though the meaning felt likedeath. Was Last Breath the Elvyn term for dying?
Ailan spoke again. “My aging was another effect of the Veil. With only a slight connection to the magic that fuels my immortal life—the magic that seeps from El’Ara—I aged like a human. And yet, the small amount of magic I receive has been enough to allow me to continue living. Then five days ago, I felt a surge of magic. An increase ofmorapouring through the Veil, unlike anything I’ve felt since living on this side of the ward.”
Cora’s muscles stiffened. “The tear in the Veil.”
Ailan nodded. “Not only did my memories return, but I began to age in reverse. I kept to my wagon, unsure how to address what was happening—”
“You hid from us,” Salinda said.
“Call it what you like, but I did what I felt was necessary. My whispers told me to wait.”
Salinda pulled her head back. “What do you mean byyour whispers?”
“I’m a truthweaver,” Ailan said. “That’s my Elvyn ability. Like a witch who’s an oracle or seer, I weave threads that seek truth and receive guidance in return. The whispers of my weavings told me to stay. Wait. But then the dragons came.”
Cora’s eyes darted from Ailan to Bernice. “Is that why you had Bernice suppress your magic? To hide from them?”
“I wasn’t ready for them to find me.”
Anger heated Cora’s blood. She sat forward on the bench and spoke through her teeth. “Instead, you let them find her.” She gestured toward Mareleau. “Instead, you let them attack my castle. My people. You let them burn crops and…and let their flames take lives.”
Ailan’s face fell but she said nothing.
Cora spoke again. “You spoke to them tonight. You made them leave the camp. Does that mean you could have sent them away from the start? Could you have sent them back to El’Ara if you hadn’t been hiding from them?”
“I didn’t send them back to El’Ara. I ordered them to wait for me until morning. To find a safe place to nest away from people. Uziel is my bonded dragon. Now that he’s found me, he won’t leave my side. And Ferrah is young and reckless. Neither will return to El’Ara until I do. Which I will soon.”
“Why did you wait? If you can return to El’Ara, you should have done so as soon as you knew the dragons were looking for you.”
“I told you,” Ailan said. “My whispers said to wait—”
“Your whispers are flawed.”
“They never speak without reason.”
Cora scoffed. “What reason could your whispers have had for allowing dragons to wreak havoc on my kingdom? Or do they only care for the fae realm?”
Ailan lifted her chin, refusing to be cowed by Cora’s growing rage. “I see three reasons sitting before me now. Three people they clearly wanted me to join before my return.”
Cora’s eyes widened as she realized Ailan was referring to her, Mareleau, and Noah. The latter two she could understand, but why had she included Cora? She’d lost her place in the prophecy—no, she’d never had a place.
“What do my son and I have to do with this?” Mareleau said. “What is his role in this ridiculous prophecy? You do see he’s a baby, right? Yet your brother is targeting Khero and Veranow. What can Noah do to stop the Blood of Darius, or whatever the prophecy says?”
Ailan’s expression softened, as did her tone. “Blood of my blood, I wish I had all the answers. Time and again, I’ve cast truthweavings, yet my whispers tell me the same things every time. Things I’m sure you already know. I’ve even shared these whispers—what you call theprophecy—with the elders, as it was the one way I could try to protect this land should I perish before my brother. I don’t know much more about the prophecy than you likely do, but without a doubt, you are my kin, and he is my heir. He is the true Morkara of El’Ara.”
Mareleau pulled Noah closer to her chest. “But what does that mean? What do you expect him to do? The prophecy states that Noah will unite three crowns and return El’Ara’s heart. That he will end the Blood of Darius. Does that not refer to him coming of age and inheriting three kingdoms? Facing Darius?”
Ailan furrowed her brow. “Inheriting three kingdoms?”
“Noah is the heir to Vera,” Cora explained, “which was merged from two kingdoms already. And I…I considered naming him my heir as well, as he’s my husband’s nephew.” She pursed her lips before she could say a word more. Before she could admit that she couldn’t have an heir of her own because of the curse Morkai had placed upon her.
Ailan’s eyes went unfocused as she considered. “I can see your reasoning for interpreting it that way, but it could mean many things. Prophecies are never infallible. They are merely whispers of one’s weaving, open to interpretation. Their very nature makes them deceptive, which is why they often come to fruition in unexpected ways, even when one tries to stop them.”
