Mother Goddess, Cora and Mareleau were the same age. They’d been born the same year. Yet the prophesied mother was supposed to have been born in Khero?—
No.
Not the mother.
The true Morkara is the Blood of Ailan, born under the black mountain.
Bornunder, notto. Cora pulled back from her friend slightly, heart racing. Mareleau was so enchanted by her sleeping son, whose tiny hand was now curled around her forefinger, that she didn’t notice Cora’s startled scrutiny. Cora’s gaze lifted to the walls, to the purple tapestries lining them, boasting Khero’s sigil.
A black mountain over a field of violets.
Cora’s breaths grew sharp. Could…Mareleau be the mother? Not Cora? Could Noah be the true Morkara?
There was still one final piece of the prophecy. The line that had been the most convincing of all, proving Cora was the prophesied mother.
The unicorn will signify her awakening.
The unicorn. Valorre. Cora’s familiar. After he’d come into her life, everything had changed. She’d awakened to truths she’d never known were missing. Her magic had grown tenfold.
At the thought of him, he entered her consciousness.
You’re distressed, he said.
Distress. Was that what she was feeling? She wasn’t sure what to call it, the tremor that had taken over, the thundering of her heart, the tightness in her chest. Perhaps distress was the right word for it, but she was more desperate than anything. Desperate for the truth. For the final piece of the puzzle to click into place, either confirming or dismissing her suspicions.
Valorre, she conveyed,when we were in El’Ara, you remembered some things. You said you recalled running from dragons?—
I remember everything.Cora felt his surprise as if it were her own.I…I remember it all now.
The dragons chased you from El’Ara. Through the Veil.
Yes, they knew my horn would let me leave.
Why did they chase you?
They…they felt her.
Cora swallowed hard. He’d saidhernotyou.
Who did they feel?she asked.
The Blood of Ailan. They felt hermora.
Magic. They felt the prophesied mother’s magic.
“Mare,” she said, turning to her friend. Cora could feel the quaver in her voice, but Mareleau didn’t seem to notice. She merely cast a questioning glance at her. Cora worked the dryness from her throat before she spoke again. “When did you start using your magic trick?”
Mareleau shrugged. “I’ve always used it in some form or another. It serves as a sort of protection. A way for me to feel like I’m someone else on the outside.”
“Was there ever a time when you felt like…like people started reacting to your magic trick?”
“The suitors I got rid of certainly reacted strongly,” she said with a wry grin.
“When was that? When did you first drive away an unwanted suitor with this trick?”
Her expression turned thoughtful. “About a year ago? No, a little longer than that. Maybe a year-and-a-half ago?”
Cora’s heart fell. A year-and-a-half ago. When the first unicorn was spotted in the human world.
