“That’s not important!” Wycke cradled Piers against his chest, the gesture offering some comfort.
Ice shards scored Piers’ insides. His mother really had been as bad as people said. Evil, through and through, showing no remorse at all for killing a woman and trying to kill a baby. No wonder people believed she’d killed her own son. Piers nestled into Wycke’s embrace. Why Wycke didn’t turn from him in horror, Piers might never know, but he’d be grateful for the support all the same, “My mother killed yours. Tried to kill you.”
A harsh exhale brushed against Piers’ ear. “She tried to kill you, too, so I consider myself in good company.”
Piers straightened enough to see Aberfrer, who so far hadn’t mentioned that Piers had come close to killinghimwith a light fixture. “What does it all mean?”
“It means you’ll be able to explain mysteries that have gone unanswered for many seasons.” Aberfrer’s footsteps tapped against the floor as he ambled a circuit around the room.
“I’m so sorry,” Piers told Saris. He held out a hand. Would she reject him?
Saris took Piers’ hand into both of hers. “You’re no more responsible for your mother’s actions than Wycke and I are for our father’s. You’ve nothing to be sorry for. I knew you, remember?” She gave a tremulous smile. “You were such a sweet baby. Your mother’s actions were hers alone.”
Uncle Lee’s words came back to Piers. Good and evil. His choice.
Other memories tickled the back of his consciousness. Speaking to his uncle, yet not his uncle. Confirming his bond with Wycke. Aberfrer. The man magic told him to trust.
Magic? Piers had spoken to the magic under the castle. Had that been a dream?
He stared down at the book, no longer clutched in his hands. Yes, good and evil were a choice now.
Would reading this book steal the choice from him?
“The answer to reversing the spell on King Broen might be in my mother’s words if I keep looking.” As much as Piers hated returning to what he’d seen, someone needed to right his mother’s wrongs. The Gimitri name lived on in him. He wouldn’t allow the memories of his unknown family to be only of corruption. Or evil incarnate.
Wycke wrapped his arms more tightly around Piers. “You don’t have to do this.”
Piers met Wycke’s worried gaze. “Yes, I do. And one day soon, I have lots to tell you.”
Teach the mages and sorcerers we are living beings and to not hurt us.
Piers didn’t read the book; he lived page after page. Each time, he returned to himself, telling his waiting audience the horrors he’d seen, the murders committed by the smiling young woman with a cold black heart.
Poor Chynne witnessed Piers’ mother’s depravity, suffering in silence. Occasionally she plucked feathers, either for a spell or as punishment. Each one made Piers wince, though neither Nyanda nor Chynne showed signs of noticing his presence.
She’d starved Chynne, nearly to death at one point.
Chynne said he was powerful, proved his abilities more than once. How, then, had Nyanda kept a powerful familiar enslaved?
Magical binding only allows me use of my magic for the good of my master.Was that a memory, or was Chynne speaking in Piers’ mind, like he’d done before?
Taking a deep breath, Piers closed his eyes and plunged back into the book.
Once more, he stood in the tower room. This time, he stalked over to the corner, and the cringing bird perched there. “Chynne?”
The bird lifted its head, beady eyes searching the room. “Who’s there?” No fear or challenge, just wariness. But, yes! He’d heard!
“My name is Piers. Or Pieravor. I don’t know if I exist in this time.”
“Pieravor.” Chynne rolled the name on his tongue. “My mistress carries a son she’s vowed to name Pieravor, after the strongest sorcerer ever to live.”
At least Nyanda cared enough to name Piers well. “I am her son. I came through her grimoire.” Even in this dream/vision/whatthehellever, he cringed at calling himself her son. Her drive for control consumed any good qualities she’d ever possessed. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Only if you can release me, which you can’t.” Never would Piers have imagined Chynne so defeated.
“I would if I could.”
“I know.”
