“I…” Cayden trailed off. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Then just talk to us, son.” A middle-aged woman stood and held out her hands. Long forest-green hair came over her shoulder in a thick braid. The same tie-dyed robes hid her frame,but the set of her nose and brow looked exactly like Cayden’s, with just a few more wrinkles.
Cayden leaned forward and shook.
“Is that your mom?” I asked softly.
Cayden nodded.
I thought of my dad and all the bullshit we’d gone through together. It wasn’t the same, but if he popped up right here, right now, I’d do anything to feel his arms around me. “Then go to her. She’s still your mom, Cay.”
My words set him free. Cayden ran to his mother, swallowed by a wave of orange tie-dye and sorrow. Although I hated the Prophet, tears welled up in my eyes.
Minutes ticked.
This wasn’t going to be a short visit. It took me a few moments to spot Xan, who seemed to draw the same conclusion.
Everly, now standing with her twin, waved awkwardly, and I shuffled to her. As a quartet, we approached Xan, who was conferring with Ezra and their information officer.
“It was foolhardy not to bring rations and camping equipment,” Abernathy said, and based on his tone, not for the first time.
“I’m offering help, not moving in. I will not be seen as an invader,” Xan answered. “I stand by our choices. If we spend the night, most of us have individual supplies in our voids. We need to give it time.”
The crowd behind us eased. I hadn’t seen him move, but Cayden appeared at Xan’s back.
“This…” Cayden’s voice cut through the crowd. “This is the Architect.”
Xan turned at his title.
“The Architect,” Cayden continued, addressing his family. “Will lead us. He’s a true Prophet, not one of our Sun God, butone who has shown me the way to personal salvation. He is the light.”
“We walk in the light.” The group responded in unison.
The hair on my arms rose.
The blood drained from Xan’s face.
Cayden sank to his knees and bowed his head. “Guide us, Prophet, for we are in need.”
The remaining people prostrated themselves. The man claiming to be the Prophet melted to the ground, doing the same. The world held its breath.
Chapter 14
Cayden
Mymom’sarmsclosedaround me, and for one fleeting moment, I was six again, safe in her love, small in her world. Someone’s hand rested on my foot while another pressed to my calf.
The moment vanished.
When the Prophet chose me, I followed, mastering what he knew, leaping when he said jump, doubling my work, all in his name. Through it all, my mother’s proud gaze followed me, prayers to the Sun God rolling from her lips as naturally as breathing.
More hands reached for me—siblings shaped by the same man who stole our sense of self. Anguish tore me apart.
I pulled back from my mother and gazed into her eyes. Unconditional love looked back at me. My mind swam with questions, but each one had the same answer.
My mom loved her life. Even knowing she’d been manipulated, she would still claim her choices as her own. That was who she was, and I couldn’t shatter it.
I hadn’t wanted to come back. Now that I had, every buried feeling split me open all over again. I cried with my family. Good or bad, we’d lost our father. Our very faith quaked. I reached down and brushed their hands before picking my way through my people, making sure I touched each and every one. My steps brought me back to Alexander, the Architect.
