“Narfi’s dead, and that’s all that matters,” Kira countered, recalling the sadistic bastard’s brutality. Yes, she’d sliced and almost beheaded him with those deadly red strands, except he could have regenerated had Týr not set free his lethal ability, turning him into ash for a true death.
Týr groaned, snagging her attention. His fingers twitched, then his movements grew agitated as if searching. She hurried over and grasped his hand, and his frantic thrashings eased. He coughed and winced, his other hand going to his chest.
“Whoa, man. Not so fast.” Blaéz snatched his thick wrist, stopping him from tearing at the dressing.
“Kira…” Týr rasped, voice barely audible.
“I’m here,” she whispered. “I’m right here.”
His fingers tightened on hers as if to keep her there as sleep pulled him under again.
* * *
With Blaéz settled in as caretaker, Kira made her way to the first floor, then knocked and walked into an elegant bedroom with pale blue walls and white period furniture.
Her mother, seated on the armchair near the fireplace and drying her damp hair, watched her quietly.
Kira offered a little smile, unsure what to say.
“It’s still me, child.” Her gaze settled on Kira’s unbound mane. “Come. I’ll braid your hair for you.”
She hesitated for a second. Týr didn’t like her hair tethered, but this was her mother. “Maybe a single one?”
Kira lowered to the floor in front of her. As Luceré started parting her hair into sections, she said, “I learned more living here and taking care of you than I did in my eons-long existence. Things like braiding, I picked up from Lila…”
She swiftly wove two skinny braids from her temples then wove some of the turquoise and black beads she had in a wooden box on the table into the ends of the two thin plaits. “These beads I put into your hair and the bracelets I’ve made for you are immersed in a protection and concealment spell. Use them to shield yourself, there’s plenty more in my room at the brownstone…”
Kira nodded, staring at the turquoise and black bracelet she wore on her wrist. It had survived Stygia and the fight at the cabin. And she understood she’d have to stay shielded. “What exactly are you—I mean the Ancients?”
“Right…” Luceré murmured, then she began explaining about them existing from the time of creation, and how they helped new realms flourish, giving hope to the denizens.
“So, you’re like a god or something?”
“More like something.” Kira heard the smile in her mother’s voice. “The Sins and the Ancients keep the balance over everything in creation. It was always about helping, being positive so the inhabitants could thrive. You could say the Ancients are the opposite of the Sins. They punish, we help people prosper. But, I find humans are a hard lot, not all are open to goodwill…”
Reeling in awe, Kira digested what her mother had revealed as she moved on to ramble on about Kira’s childhood, about learning to cook from books, and about being a grandmother.
Kira rubbed a hand over her queasy stomach, unease sweeping through her. She frowned. But the soothing motion of fingers working in her hair whittled away the feeling that something wasn’t quite right with her mother, and lulled her tired mind to want to shut down. Kira yawned, her eyelids drooped…
“At least now, I know that, no matter what, you won’t be alone when I’m gone—”
“What?” Kira’s head snapped around, her hair tearing free from her mother’s grip, fatigue vanishing. “What do you mean,gone? Gone where?”
“Kira—” Her mother didn’t need to say any more than her name, and she knew.
“No!” She shook her head in wild panic. “No, you cannot leave! I just gotyouback!”
“My time here is almost up, my dearest child. I called out to the universe for you to be mated to someone powerful enough to protect you, preferably an immortal, so that the Ancients wouldn’t come after you if they found out the truth of my indiscretion. It eases my soul that you found a formidable mate. Now that you are safe, I can be at peace—”
“No!”She clasped her mother’s hands. “You have to stay. What about the warriors? They need an Oracle, you know how badly they can get injured from those wretched demon bolts.”
A tired smile curved her mother’s mouth. “I’m well aware those big babies will need help. I do have somebody in mind. Her name’s Jaden. She came to me a year ago by someone I trust a great deal. Anyway, I’ve spoken to her and she’s agreed. If it’s all right with you, she’ll stay on at the brownstone. We will talk later, child. I grow weary.”
Only then did Kira realize what had been pinging her psyche like needles, making her so edgy. Her mother appeared as if she were literally fading, her skin almost pallid beneath her dusky coloring. “Please, Mom, promise me you won’t leave without a word. You won’t disappear on me?”
Luceré sighed and gently caressed Kira’s cheek. “You cannot imagine how long I’ve yearned to hear you call me that, my sweet child.” She pushed to her feet and wavered.
Kira hastily jumped up and slipped her arm around her mother’s waist, and helped her to bed. Torn, she stood there for a second. She didn’t want to leave, but she had to check on Týr, and Luceré needed rest. Exhaling roughly, she kissed her mother’s cheek before walking out of the room.
A year ago, when she’d first heard about the Guardians, she’d thought being otherworldly was super cool. They had so many advantages; long life, incredible abilities, and a quick mode of transport. Now? All Kira wished for was life as it used to be, for her mother to stay with her—and to know Týr was all hers.
But then life was never fair. She’d learned that the hard way.
