Tristin waits until all the scions have left before turning to me. He’s concerned. “Paul, what is going on with you? Where have you been? I’ve been waiting at the rendezvous since last night for you to arrive. I only came here to look for you because it was the last place I expected you to be.” He looks around for a moment, then lowers his voice to a whisper. “Where is Josep? Is he in the bunker?”
“I… I’m not sure.”
He and I just stare at each other for a moment. I can tell that he wants to get angry with me, but he’s doing his best to control it. “Do you know what we’re even doing?”
“We’re… killing the Darkness, of course.”
“Of course. Yes. But… youdoremember who the Darkness really is, right?”
It hits me then. And things start coming back to me. “Of course. And I was busy all day yesterdaypreparing.”
“Preparing? How? Because you didn’t feed the scions, Paul. That was literally your only job!”
“I was killing Kael up at the White River camp. For Ryet and Syrsee.”
Tristin blows out a breath. “So you’re really going to jeopardize everything for him?”
And with these words of his, clarity manifests for me. I remember everything again. Who I am, what I’m doing, and why I’m doing it. “Yes,” I tell Tristin. And as soon as this word comes out, I’m back. Calm, calculated, smarmy. “Yes, Tristin, I’m going to risk everything. And anyway, it’s done. I sacrificed Kael, got the blood I needed, and have already given it to Ryet. He’s probably feeding Syrsee right now.”
Tristin gives up. “All right. You’re the king. But this decision of yours? It might ruin everything. By trying to save Ryet, you might killeveryone. So I hope he’s worth it.”
Then Tristin turns away and follows the scions out the door.
I hesitate, playing his words back in my head. Yes, I might actually kill everyone. Or at least sentence them all to an eternity of Darkness.
But I need to getsomethingout of the last two thousand years.
And Ryet is my something.
Tristin watcheswith an almost lustful fascination as, one by one, I feed my scions. It is during the feeding that my mind begins to return to me. I hadn’t anticipated the insanity that came with the Blood Mother ritual. And, in fact, I haven’t even fully comprehended the consequences of it yet either.
This is the only expected thing that’s happened all day—my confusion. Because how would I know? I’ve never made a Blood Mother before, let alone an Army of Not-Darkness. There’s a learning curve. I can’t be expected to know everything, all of the time. I have fallible moments every now and then.
But I feel confident that my memory is on track to catch up with the times. And, as proof, I realize that as the feedings go on, other things start to make more sense too.
Things like…me.
Where I started and how I got here.
Bits and pieces come back to me. Of course, I never actually forgot what I was doing or why. It just… stopped being important somewhere along the way. Two thousand years was more than enough time to talk myself into the idea that it never happened that way to begin with.
That it was a dream?
A nightmare?
A trick?
It could still be all three.
But it’s not. I know it’s not. From the moment I saw Syrsee in that dreamwalk on New Year’s Eve, I remembered. I just didn’t spend much time pondering the significance of that memory.
And now, as I pass my blood magic onto these men, it’s all I can think about.
Syrsee. And how she showed up in the bath that night I was made. And how she washed my back, wings poking through, and gave me hope.
Because I have to be honest here, I wasn’t feeling hopeful that night I was born. The only thing I was feeling was forsaken.
Why? Whyme?
