Again, he flings it away. And again it returns. This happens over and over until finally, when he’s spent from throwing it into the sea, he lets the thing rest in a cloud of sea foam by my toes.
I pick it up, and my father doesn’t stop me, this big thing I cannot name, made from something sharp and black on one end, and the white stone and amber gem on the other. Amber like the sun at dusk.
With a trembling hand, Father takes the thing away once again and draws me close, and for the first time, I see him cry. “I will protect you from this,” he tells me, pressing his lips against the curls atop my head. “I swear on all that I am, Raina. I will protect you.”
Gasping, I sit up with a start. I’m on the beach blanket. On the sand. In the cove at Starworth Tor. Not with my father.
Just another dream, I tell myself, my words mirroring his.
But it wasn’t a dream. That was a memory. One I’ve never had before now. It’s a revelation that sends panic pounding through my chest, a million questions pouring into my mind.
Because no matter what stories he told, no matter what tales I’ve believed for my entire life, my father didn’t find the God Knife on the Malorian seashore.
I did.
I gather my things and race back to the house, my skin warm and tight from lying in the sun. I don’t make it to the veranda before the Collector meets me, hurrying down the flagstone steps. Concern etches his face.
“What is it, Raina? What’s wrong?”
How can he feel so much with so little when it comes to the bond? Did he see my dream? Surely not now that the bond is partially destroyed.
But then I glance at the lighthouse and pause. “Have you been watching me?”
“There are people who want you dead, or worse, alive, so yes. Of course, I’m fucking watching you. What’s wrong?”
It isn’t anything I want to discuss with him. I don’t even know what I would say. It makes no sense. My father was the Keeper. The God Knife was cursed to his keep, not mine.
Perhaps it was just an accident. Perhaps the blade was trying to find him, and I just found it first. But why did he say he’d protect me from it?
I shove past the Collector—he’s at fault for that godsdamn God Knife in the first place—and keep moving toward the house.
“Raina.” My name falls from his lips like a command, as though he holds that sort of power over me. Perhaps before, he did. But not now.
I don’t get a chance to turn around and level him with a few choice words because Nephele opens the exterior door to the great room, and the expression on her face fills me with even more dread.
With eyes that remind me of Father’s now more than ever, she looks from me to the Collector and back to me. “Zahira and Yaz are home. They found something.”
Nephele and I sit across the dining room table from Zahira and Yaz. Alexus is here, leaning against the doorframe. Not that I want him to be. Nephele asked him to stay.
Zahira slides one of her pads of bound parchment across the polished table. My sister accepts, dragging it closer. I scan the words, written in charcoal, as she reads them aloud.
Citizen: Ophelia Moren-Sar
Born: Elam, Ske-Trana Province, Year 264 in the reign of Fia Drumera, midsummer
Student: Hall of Holies, City of Ruin, Years 286-288
Displaced at sea, practicum expedition: Year 288, spring, refugee at the Northland Watch barracks
Returned to Itunnan: Year 288, autumn
Returned to Malgros: Year 289, early winter
United with Head Sentry Rowan Bloodgood: Year 289, winter
Child: Nephele Moren-Sar Bloodgood, Year 289, summer
Child, Raina Moren-Sar Bloodgood, Year 295, midwinter
