My throat aches with everything I'm holding back. The grief. The rage. The horror. Warmth pulses through the bond. Malachi, still there, still steady. I lean into it without meaning to.
Then the realization crashes over me.
Malachi, Kage, Draven, and countless others have dedicated their lives to undoing the damage my father caused. The cursemy mother triggered. I am the daughter of the people who destroyed their kingdom. The comfort I've been taking from the bond suddenly feels wrong. I pull back.
"Pia's sacrifice started a movement." Anala's voice steadies. "The gods created the Reckoning. Healers began emerging from hiding, traveling to the Bratus. Some went willingly. Others ..."
"Were forced." My stomach turns. "Like the laborers here."
"The imbalance grew dangerous. So Mortiana waited. Two hundred and seventy-five years." Anala meets my eyes. "When the time was right, she brought your mother out of stasis and allowed her to give birth."
"But she died," I whisper.
"In childbirth. Yes."
The silence is suffocating.
I swallow. "Did they wait for us to survive? Or for us to have a chance at lifting the curse?"
"The prophecy is not yours!" Sara’s voice cracks like a whip.
"We don't know that!" Anala's eyes flash silver. "The balance hasn't been restored, Sara. The gods won't let an entire kingdom die."
"Cato is waiting." Sara’s voice is venomous. "He's waiting for his heir to reach the Bratus. For his hunters to find the son he believes will save his legacy. He has the princess of Tenebris in stasis. Kept in a glass case. Waiting for the day she wakes so he can cross the wards that keep him out." Her hands shake. "Everything is a waiting game. And we are running out of time."
"How would Cato know when the healer reaches the Bratus?"
"Sulara's scepter." Freida's voice is grave. "That's the key. They believe when the healer, the true healer, will drive the scepter into the roots and the curse will break. But the scepter has never been found."
"Is it here? In Lunaris?"
"The legend suggests it is. We've searched. Constantine has searched." She shakes her head. "Nothing."
"How do you know Constantine doesn't already have it?"
Her eyebrow rises. "We were here before he arrived."
Right. They searched before he ever arrived. Which brings me back to what I read in Lenora's journal.
"Lenora wrote about the memory stones. She believed they were feeding the Shroud. Keeping it intact." I watch Mother's face. "Is that true?"
"Yes,” she says, no hesitation. "The Shroud grew after each Reckoning. When we learned about the sacrifices at the Bratus, we realized the connection. Pain feeds it. Grief feeds it."
"So you used the memory stones,” I whisper. "You fed the Shroud deliberately. To keep it strong."
She nods. Sharp. Unapologetic. "The Shroud keeps us hidden. Cato cannot find us. His hunters cannot reach us. The only opening is during the Reckoning, and few are foolish enough to travel through."
My chest squeezes. You built a wall of stolen grief and call it protection." I blink rapidly, clearing the tears from my eyes as I look at the three of them. “The Moon Festival. You created it as a diversion. So when the Reckoning happened every ten years, no one would notice."
None of them denies it.
"People come here during the Festival. They beg to stay. They want to forget their pasts. Start over." I shake my head. "Why purchase anyone?”
"We have never purchased anyone,” Sara snaps. "The treaty is signed in blood. We cannot question who the Council admits. We cannot intervene in their ceremonies. The oath forbids it."
"Do not tell me what you can and cannot do!" My voice shakes with fury. “Your people were enslaved and you've allowed the Council to do the same to others! You can spin it whateverway you like and blame the blood oath, but it doesn't make it right!”
"I have been trying to keep you safe!" The roar tears out of her. "I couldn't save my sister. I have done everything in my power to protect her children!"
