Cinnamon and soil and warm bread.
And I can’t stop the rush of tears as I choke out,“Mother!”
She flings the hood of her cloak back as she draws forward. “Let her go. They’re with me.”
Cygnus and I get released at once.
She looks different, and it’s not just the light. Instead of her usual garb, she’s dressed entirely in black. Her dark eyes look different as they sweep over me—harder, somehow. Andher hair isn’t piled into its crown of braids; it’s wild and long, disheveled.
Her eyes are solely focused on me, but I can’t read her expression. I’m torn between screaming at her and begging for forgiveness, but Mother doesn’t give me a chance to speak.
“Follow me,” she says. Her gaze flits over to Cygnus. “You too.”
Without waiting for a response, she turns and hurries through the crowd. Cygnus and I exchange a glance before we silently follow.
Mother leads us to another area of the city that looks identical to the first few streets we passed through—abandoned, with worn homes on the brink of destruction. She finally stops in front of a run-down building, pulls out a rusted key from her pocket, and turns the lock with aclick.
“Why did everyone listen to you?” I ask as she creaks the door open. “How did you find us?”
“Get inside first,” she says. “Then we’ll talk.”
Cygnus and I follow her inside, up two flights of stairs, and into a tiny apartment. When she shuts the door behind us, Mother fastens three locks. Then she traces runes in the air with her fingertips, murmuring incantations of safety and concealment. I’ve seen Mother express many things—anger, disappointment, annoyance—but I have never once seen her afraid. Right now, she looks terrified.
I look around at the space, which is about half the size of our cottage. It’s far more run-down and grimy than any home we’ve stayed in together. But as I scrutinize my surroundings, I can see Mother’s touch—the flowers strung across the ceiling, the spellbooks on the narrow shelf, the altar in the corner with a golden figure of Elowyn. Mother lives here. Or at least she did, once.
Cygnus and I stand awkwardly near the doorway as Mother finishes her spellwork. When she’s done, I expect her to yell at me. I expect her to tell me what a disappointment I’ve been. I expect her to list all the things I’ve done wrong in her absence.
What I don’t expect is the hug.
Her arms fling around me so tightly, I almost yelp. I’m so taken aback, I stand stiffly in her grasp for a moment, before slowly raising my arms to return the gesture. Tears sting my eyes as I inhale her familiar scent. I don’t know how long the embrace lasts. But when it’s over, she points to the chairs and instructs us to sit.
“We have a lot to catch up on,” she starts. “And I’m assuming you probably have many questions. But first I need to know how you got here and who knows that you’ve come.”
I try to speak. But the words clog in my throat. Overwhelmed, I glance at Cygnus.
“We started trying to find Ruin a few weeks ago,” he starts, eyeing me for permission to continue. I jerk a nod, and I’m relieved as he takes over, recounting our entire struggle through the gates.
When he finishes, Mother’s eyes flash to me. “And how did you get to Crown City?”
I’ve been dreading this moment. I find my voice and do my best to explain. Again, I’m expecting rage and disappointment. But Mother just listens silently, nodding, with her lips pressed tight. When I tell her about my work on the omnidraught, I also brace for Cygnus’s reaction. I expect him to sneer at my mistakes or to scoff at the arrogance of accepting such a critical assignment. But he listens with a calm expression that mirrors hers, and both of their eyebrows rise in astonishment when I conclude that I’ve finished it.
“How is that possible? Have you tested it on patients?”
I shake my head. “No. I just worked from Ragglestaff’s notes, because the queen said it was too dangerous for me to travel to the quarantine zone. But that’s where you were, right? How did you get here?”
Her face wavers with a whole series of emotions I can’t name. “I never made it to the quarantine zone,” she admits thickly. “I got apprehended on the road by the Frumentari. I managed to fight my way out of it, but I was injured in the process.” Mother peels down the neck of her tunic, revealing a nasty scar that plunges from her collarbone across her chest. “And then I couldn’t travel for weeks. I hunkered down at an inn near the border, but by that point, the area was crawling with soldiers looking for me. I needed to contact you, but I couldn’t reveal anything about my location without risk of the letter getting intercepted.”
I try to process this. It’s hard to imagine so many soldiers pursuing my mother—peaceful, dutiful, studious Melia. It’s even harder to imagine herfightingher way out of something.
“And then I got word from our spies that you’d been taken by the empire.”
“You havespies?” I repeat numbly. “How?”
Mother draws a deep breath. “Because I help lead the rebels. I have for almost nineteen years now.”
When I glance at Cygnus, he looks as confounded as I am.
“Once I found out you’d been taken by the Verdish, I was desperate to reach you. As soon as I gained the strength, I rallied a unit to extract you. But on our way to the Hartlands, we got apprehended again. This time by Queen Soleste’s soldiers. I expected them to kill me immediately, but instead they just locked me away. I learned from the other prisoners that Soleste has been absent traveling; I assume she was waiting to kill me herself when she returned. Before she could get the chance, I gotin touch with some old rebel contacts. They helped me escape, and we’ve been trying to find a way to get you back since.”
