A flicker of anger ignited in Cora’s chest. She knew plenty about that. She was the victim of such misguided interpretation.
Ailan continued. “First of all, my whispers never said Noah would face Darius, only that his birth would tear the Veil and set into motion Darius’ end. That has already begun. As for uniting three crowns, it could refer to uniting the three kingdoms of Lela like you’ve surmised, or it could refer to uniting two human kingdoms with El’Ara. Returning El’Ara’s heart…well, that part is both essential and inevitable, but it doesn’t mean he’ll physically do it himself. You, however,” she said, shifting her gaze to Cora. “I’m uncertain of your role.”
Cora bristled. “My role? I have no place in this prophecy. Morkai thought I was the mother, and many of his actions revolved around that assumption. But he was wrong. He focused so much on me, he never guessed the true mother was meant to be Mareleau.” Every word burned like fire on her tongue, but she kept her expression steady.
“You may not have been named in the prophecy, but you have been drawn in nonetheless. Maybe you were always meant to protect Mareleau. To serve as a decoy for my kin.” She smiled indulgently, like she was bestowing some great honor upon Cora.
“Decoy,” Cora echoed, voice cold. All the anger she’d tried to hold back now flooded her, sending her fingers curling into her palms. “Do you know what Morkai did to me as adecoy?”
Ailan’s eyes went wide but she gave no reply.
“Are you saying that I suffered for some grand purpose? That I was cursed in her place by design? That I was toyed with all so I could protecther—” The bitter tang that coated the last word silenced her. Fire filled her vision, reminding her of the nightmare she’d had the night before her wedding, when Morkai had taunted her using Mareleau’s life.
Should it have been her?
Devils, no, of course it shouldn’t have been Mareleau. Morkai shouldn’t have cursed either of them.
Flames danced in her mind again, and she saw another flash from that dream, how even though she’d saved her friend from the duke’s clutches, Mareleau had burned to ash as soon as Cora had touched her.
I am the shadow you won’t acknowledge. I am the ember you wish you could smother.
She forced the echoes from the nightmare away until the tightness in her chest eased. Reluctantly, she met Mareleau’s gaze. Her friend had gone a shade paler.
Cora shrank back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
Mareleau gave her a sad smile. “You’re allowed to mean it like that. I wouldn’t blame you for resenting me for what was done to you.”
Tears glazed her eyes. “I don’t, Mare. You’re my friend. I could never resent you. That…that isn’t me.”
Salinda leaned forward and patted Cora’s knee. While she appreciated the woman’s attempt at consolation, the pity that clouded the wagon was potent enough to smother her.
She forced herself to sit taller, burying her unpleasant emotions until she could speak with calm. “I don’t have a place in this prophecy.”
“You do,” Ailan said, not bothering to add to the sympathy that poured from the others. In that moment, Cora was grateful to the woman. Ailan’s perspective may enrage Cora, but at least the Elvyn wasn’t going to pander to her. “Whether you like it or not, you have become a part of this. I can feel the threads woven around you, linking you to my kin, to me. I never felt them when you lived in the commune before, but maybe I hadn’t been looking then. Even so, my whispers drew me to you from the start, long before I knew why.”
Cora remembered how she’d shivered at the imagined feeling of threads brushing her skin earlier. She’d been recalling how the Forest People had found her and realizing how miraculous that was. Had Ailan been the reason they’d crossed paths in the first place? Had she been following her whispers the day they’d found her stumbling through the woods?
Another shiver prickled her flesh, along with that strange brush of threads again.
“Maybe you’re more than just a decoy,” Ailan said, again without warmth. Without pity. “Maybe you have a more proactive role to play. Whatever the case, I don’t think we are meant to wait for Noah to come of age and act on his own. The whispers tell me the time is now.”
“Now…what?” Mareleau asked.
“Now,” Ailan said, “we find the tear in the Veil. Lead the dragons. And return to El’Ara. Together.”
28
This was the second time in two days that someone had suggested Mareleau go somewhere she didn’t want to go. She stared at the woman with two names. The woman who was a stranger yet somehow also her distant kin. “Why the seven devils would I go to El’Ara with you?”
“Because,” Ailan said, “it’s the safest place for your son.”
“The safest place for him is…” She bit off her words. She was about to say the safest place for Noah was wherever Mareleau and Larylis were, but was that true? Larylis was preparing to face King Darius’ navy. War could swarm Vera and Khero any day now. Wherewouldthe safest place for Noah be?
She stared down at him in her arms, took in his peaceful dozing face. She would do anything to protect him. Anything.
Yet that didn’t mean she trusted Ailan. At least she wasn’t alone in that. Cora didn’t seem any more trusting of the Elvyn, and the other two women in the wagon—Salinda and Bernice—regarded Ailan with unveiled apprehension. Maybe even hostility.
“My brother is coming,” Ailan said. “The fact that I have my memories and youth back means the same will be true for him. He will know it means the Veil has torn, that themorais pouring through the tear. And, because of his son’s efforts, he will know the reason the Veil has torn—that the true Morkara has been born.”
