Understanding dawned on his face. “I can do that,” he said slowly.
Abruptly, she stopped her pacing and faced him. “But she must be able to access the information when she’s ready. You will have to tell her.”
Instantaneously, without the mist, I was back there. Standing on that battlefield. Watching my parents, running hand in hand over to the edge of the cliff. I heard Violet’s thoughts clear as day.I didn’t want this for them. It was supposed to be me. It was always supposed to be me that made the sacrifice. Wraith said it was me. Why am I not enough to fix the Veil and drive back the darkness? What’s the point of all this power if they have to die too?
Her eyes swung toward me—or rather, me in her memory standing before her.
I heard echoes of the man in the cave, the one she called the Wraith.“You are one, but not the One. Orlaith will come when all seems lost. When darkness has overtaken the sun, the golden one appears. She will come for answers and lead this world into a new beginning. Offer yourself up to the hands of the gods and let Starfire flow through you.” His voice changed, becoming softer, like a lover’s would.“Give yourself to it and let it keep you until I come. I will find you in the next life.”
That’s what that passage meant! Lexa has to live.
I felt her make the decision and watched from the other side now as she slammed her palm into my forehead. I felt her memories flow out of her and into me. She gave me everything, not knowing what I was going to need. Her relief surged through me as she realized it hadn’t all been in vain. This was just her part to play, one battle in the great war. A chapter in the story of the universe.
I came back to myself. Sunlight now blazed through the room, revealing how long I’d been lost in the memories.
Well shit. The man who was basically my father-in-law—now that was a scary thought—had destroyed any mention of Starfirein history and then disappeared. How the hell was I to learn what this was and how to use it?
With Griff still out dealing with the chaos of the Veil, I had only one option.
I tracked down Finn, finding him in the first place I checked—the library. He greeted me with a distracted smile, before doing a double take. “What is it, Lexie?”
“I need to talk to you.”
He settled back in his chair. “Talk away.”
I twisted my hands together, wondering where to begin. Although in some ways, this was going to be easier with Finn than it would have with Griff. Finn didn’t tend to retreat behind a mask and would hopefully be more forthcoming than his taciturn brother.
“I went through more memories. It seems like the darkness wanted Starfire for itself. That was the reason it continued to set its sights on our kingdom. Violet decided the best way to protect the kingdom was by removing all mention of Starfire from the past, present, and future, at least until I was ready for it. And she asked the one person she thought could do that.”
“Da,” Finn breathed.
I spoke hesitantly, knowing what I was asking him. “I’m sorry to ask you this, but he’s somehow wrapped up in this. And I don’t know why. Violet made it sound like he was supposed to teach me something. I know you don’t like to talk about it, but?—”
Finn laid a hand over mine, stopping their twisting. “It’s alright, Lexie. I’ll tell you what I can.” He paused, his warm hazel eyes cloudy with memories. “Growing up, we idolized him. He was powerful, respected here as the Champion, but to us, he was just Da. He always seemed happiest when he was in Maraleth with just the four of us. As I got older, I started to realize whenever we came here, to Valdris, there was something tense about him. Something he didn’t have at home. Here, he was always on his guard. He smiled less. Talked less.”
I felt like an interloper, hating the fact that I was making him godown these paths, but Violet had said to use memories, and I was taking her at her word.
“He always made time for us,” Finn continued, “but when he did, he was distracted. He and Mam seemed to be fighting more. Although about what, I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture so familiar it made my heart ache for Griff.
“When we were approaching our twenty-fifth birthday, there was a shift. Even at home, he acted tense. He upped the training he was giving us, spending hours each day working with both of us on fighting and wielding. He was desperate to teach me how to ward. He spent hours on the wards on the house, having me check them over for any tiny hole, any imperfection. And…” He trailed off, staring unseeing at the books scattered across the table.
“What is it?” I prompted gently.
“About six months before he disappeared, I found him burning papers at home. Stacks and stacks of them. When I asked what they were, he just waved me off with something about old research that was no longer needed. But I remember thinking it was strange. Da never threw away knowledge. He hoarded it. Loved books and learning.”
“Sounds like someone else I know.”
He grinned briefly, acknowledging the comparison before leaning forward, caught up in the puzzle of it. “Lexie, what you’re describing—completely erasing all mention of something from the past and present—that would require significant magic. It would take years. And would leave traces.”
“What kind of traces?”
“Gaps. Inconsistences.” He pointed at the copy of the original prophecy, with the blurred words that had been read as “power.”
“Anything else about your father that you can remember?” I asked gently.
I held Finn’s hand as he told me of the last days he’d spent with his whole family. His voice grew quieter as he spoke of the waiting, the uncertainty. How Griff had stopped talking about him entirelyafter the first year. How Everly would flinch any time Finn brought him up, until Finn too stopped talking about him. My heart broke for him, for all three of them, as he choked on the words. He’d never forgotten him. Never would.
And something niggled in the back of my mind—the wards in Maraleth, at Griff’s childhood home. Those wards still stood.
