And made the mortal cities kneel.
The galeons rose, the Phaanons died,
Their glory built on death and pride.
But Mab, with fading breath and flame,
Departed quietly, without her name.
She sealed her twins in root and stone,
Then vanished leaving no flesh or bone.
The twins sleep on, without crown or cry,
Until the magic will stir and split the sky.
They dream in dark, untouched by lore
Unknowing what their blood is for.
The victors cheer, their story spun,
Convinced the tale is lost and done.
But an heir will rise through ash and flame
To make them pay for Mab’s lost name.
“That’s you,” Ace whispered. “You’re the heir.”
“It may not be me.” Pain stabbed my chest, and I squeezed my eyes shut. “Darius referred to my brother as the heir. He said the heir would explain everything,” I whispered. “Which was a total lie. I’m more confused now than ever.”
Ace wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his chest. He didn’t say anything. He held me close and pressed his lips into my hair. “O’Reilly also mentioned the heirs and how they couldn’t survive. He meant you and Paul. I don’t think the rogue group is one large happy family. One group is holding your brother up on a pedestal and the other is plotting to cut him and you down.”
“And somehow they all knew Paul and I are phaanon before I even suspected.” I nodded into his chest. “You were right about the tapestry, too. The woman in that scene has to be Queen Mab.” I frowned. “But what does it mean she sealed us in root and stone?”
“I don’t know. Whatever it means, it probably explains why there’s a gap in time between her death and your appearance,” Ace said. “Does the book say anything about the poem?”
I read the next page. It referenced the art and poem as having an unknown source. Apparently, it had been found after the war.
And then the great purge commenced. The book described how King Oberon got a hold of the original poem and destroyed it. He declared copies as contraband and had them destroyed as well. Anyone who knowingly spoke of the poem or the possibility of descendants were killed. He created a specific force responsible for seeking out and destroying phaanons or anyone suspected of being phaanon—whether full or halfblood. Later, the force morphed into his assassins.
The history of Phaanons was erased systemically, along with any survivors.
“Is this what you did when you worked for the king?” I asked. “You hunted and killed phaanons?”
He shook his head. “I was instructed to look out for them and if any were found I was to eliminate them. I never came across any other than myself. And I wasn’t given any special instructions on how to kill a full blooded high phaan like yourself. Maybe the king believes your kind is truly extinct.”
“But you killed people.”
He nodded. “Mostly political rivals.”
He continued to hold me as I read more from the book. Everything else, I already knew. I flipped back to the poem and read it again.
“Should we take it with us?” I asked.
Ace shook his head behind me. “If they find it with us, we’ll be executed.”
