15
ISLA
“How was your date, Behach Batee?” My grandfather’s limbs are so rigid that when he folds his arms, the leather ensconcing them creaks.
Another shadow sweeps beneath the door and firms up beside him—Lachlano. My friend’s eyebrows journey up his broad forehead as he takes in my red pants and blue coat.
“My date was lovely. Lev was the perfect gentleman. How was yourevening, Jaytair?”
A nerve jostles the black stripes obscuring my grandfather’s temple. “Isla Mara Ríhbiadh.”
Since the middle name only comes out when I’m about to get into a world of trouble, I say, “I’m sorry I lied about going out with the arms dealer.”
Just as my grandmother slips through the closed door, he says, “You better have a very,verygood explanation for it.”
“And for what you’re wearing,” Lachlano pitches in, which wins him a smack in the pecs from my grandfather who has clearly not come to discuss my sense of fashion.
“We were out of our minds with worry when Lev showed up at the castle looking for you, abi,” Taytah says.
Lev sailed back to the castle for me? What determination…
“The blame is mine,” Konstantin says. “I asked your granddaughter to accompany me into the human district.”
How…unexpected.
“To dowhat?” Jaytair snaps.
Konstantin leans back in his chair and stretches out his long legs. “To plant a listening sigil in a tavern. As I’m sure you’ve heard, there’s much conflict here.”
Aodhan nods toward my grandmother. “Did the Cauldron have anything interesting to add to the prophecy, Sumaca?”
A vein throbs at my grandfather’s temple. “You told them about the prophecy, Isla?”
“It came up, yes.” I nibble on the inside of my cheek. “Did the Cauldron show you anything new, Taytah?”
“No,” Jaytair says, at the same time as Taytah says, “It did.”
The silence that ensues is so long and fraught that I know my grandparents are squabbling.
Before they can decide whether to share this new information with me, I walk up to my grandmother and press her palms to my forehead. “Show me.”
My grandfather shakes his head, but my grandmother doesn’t listen to him; she listens to me, which tells me this must be important.
I see a sky tiled with stars and ruby blood glazing my fingertips. And…is that a ring on my annular finger?
I try to zero in on it, but Taytah is dragging my mind’s eye away, toward the dagger embedded with diamond snowflakes that I clutch, and then farther, toward the motionless body.
I see a face as pale as the snow it rests upon. As pale as the round moon bathing the indigo land.
I see pointed ears poking through white hair, which an invisible breeze has tossed across glassy, orange eyes.
I suck in a breath and tug at my grandmother’s wrists to free myself of the vision. “Her eyes! They’re not gray. It’s not Alyona I murder!”
Taytah nods.
“Did the Cauldron swap the victim?” Aodhan asks.
My grandmother shakes her head once more. “It’s the same woman. We just hadn’t noticed the color of her irises until now.”
