Permission for leave to Northland Valley: family, Year 297, winter
I look at my sister, who’s already staring at me. Her eyes are wide, and her rosy cheeks drained of color. She turns to Zahira. “Elam. Ske-Trana. These are Summerland locations.”
“Yes,” Zahira nods. “Elam is a small province not far from Itunnan.”
Nephele blinks and tilts her head, as though not hearing correctly. “But our mother was a Northlander.”
Yaz’s brows raise. “Yes, she was. After she moved here and permanently settled with a member of the Watch. But before, your mother was a Summerlander. By birth. And even more importantly, she was a student at the Hall of Holies, under Fia Drumera and her magi. She obviously found herself displaced here and met your father, and when she later learned she was with child, left her home to be with him.”
From the doorway, Alexus stiffens, as though something Yaz said tugged his spine into a rigid line. He exhales a long breath and scrubs a hand over the shadow of his beard. “Which explains her ability. And Raina and Nephele’s.”
I stare at the parchment. Raina Moren-Sar Bloodgood. Not only did I not know about my magick for most of my life, but I also didn’t even know who I really am.
I can’t help but wonder if this has anything to do with my abyss. If that’s some sort of Summerlander ability I just haven’t been aware of until recently.
“Instinct guided the historian in me,” Zahira says, interrupting my thoughts. “I had a feeling that something was buried in your lineage. It’s important to always look deeper. We are not only products of our parents, but the ancestors who came before us as well. Their souls sing a mighty echo in our veins.”
“Why would she hide this knowledge from us?” I sign, and Nephele translates.
“That is the question,” Zahira says, clasping her hands atop the table. “Perhaps one Fia Drumera can answer once you reach the City of Ruin.”
If we reach it. If I go. I don’t sign those words, but I know everyone else is thinking them too.
When I look at Nephele again, swollen tears teeter on the rims of her eyelids. She blinks, and they run down her face. “I remember Malgros.” She wipes her cheeks. “But I thought all those images in my mind were from my parents’ stories. I didn’t think they were real. I didn’t hold on to them as I should have. But…” She pauses. Takes a shaky breath. “I remember Mother calling Raina Sunshine, and I loved that.” She smiles, the corners of her mouth quivering. “It seemed such a happy nickname. But she called me—”
“Morning Star,” I sign, remembering my mother’s sweet voice drifting through the cottage at dawn.
Nephele nods. “Morning Star,” she whispers. “Moren-Sar.”
I slide my arm around her shoulders and try to ignore the fact that when the Witch Collector pushes from the doorway and comes to stand at my sister’s side, she takes his hand, and he kisses it sweetly. Regardless of him, and regardless of my heart being torn when it comes to Finn, I know what I must do in the coming hours.
For me.
Because my mother was a Summerlander. A powerful mage schooled at the Hall of Holies, a place I don’t even understand. But the God Knife was bound with Summerlander magick. Magick attached to me and my father, even though he longed to be rid of the blade, to protect me from whatever danger he felt it held. I only have more questions, but at least, now, some of the missing pieces of the puzzle have come into play, and I mean to uncover the rest.
I stand and address the table before I head upstairs, aware of the Collector’s stare locked on me. “I need to spend time with Finn and think,” I sign.
What I don’t say, if only to prolong the Collector’s worry, is that if the chance arrives tonight, I’ll be leaving for the City of Ruin.
When I return upstairs, Hel’s voice drifts down the hall, her words happy and lilting. I open the door, only to be met by Finn’s dark gaze. He’s lying propped on pillows, eyes half-lidded, a weak smile lifting one side of his red lips.
Hel kneels by the bed, holding his hand in both of hers. She’s grinning so big, tears streaking her golden-brown face. Mari seems happy too, standing over Finn, her cheeks pink with an innocent blush.
“I was just about to come find you,” Hel says. She stands and leans over to kiss her brother’s forehead before eyeing Mari. “Come. Let’s give Finn and Raina some time.”
Hel squeezes my hand as they leave, and then I’m standing there, facing Finn Owyn, uncertain what to say.
Arm lying on the bed, he flutters his fingers for me to come to him. His expression is soft and open, kind and gentle. Like the Finn I used to know.
Tears spring to my eyes, and I hurry to the bed, carefully lying down beside him, nestled against his side. He kisses my temple, and I slide my arm around him, squeezing gently, needing him to know how happy I am to see him awake.
We lie like that for a long time. He softly caresses my arm as I weep against his chest and inhale everything about him. I’ve missed my best friend.
After a while, I sit up and wipe my face, noticing how warmly he looks at me, as though all bitterness has faded with the night.
“Did Hel tell you everything?” I sign, sitting close to him, my knee resting on his hip. I realize that I don’t even know if he can speak.
“Not everything,” he signs, giving me my answer. His movements are sluggish and heavy. “You tell me,” he adds.
