"Of course." Vic rose as well. "I could be wrong. This is just a theory based on very limited information."
But we both knew he wasn't wrong. The pieces fit too well. My mother's mysterious past, her strange illness that baffled Prime Realm healers, her reluctance to discuss her family. And perhaps most telling: her complete lack of surprise when I'd first demonstrated my own rift abilities.
"I need to talk to my mother," I said, more to myself than to Vic.
"That might be difficult given our current location," he reminded me gently.
I paced the small workshop, my thoughts churning. "Could you send a message? Ask specific questions about her symptoms, her family history? Frame it as a medical necessity?"
"I can try." He hesitated. "But Juno, if I'm right, if your mother is indeed hiding a Nytherian heritage, there may be a reason for her secrecy. The Assembly's persecution of Nytherians didn't begin with the collapse. It's been ongoing for generations."
The implication was clear. My mother had been hiding not just from illness, but from those who might harm her for what she was. What we both might be.
"Send the message," I decided. "But be careful how you word it. I don't want to put her in more danger."
Vic nodded, already reaching for his communication equipment. "I'll prepare it immediately."
I turned to leave, needing space to process this revelation, but paused at the door. "Vic? Does Cypher know about your theory?"
His hesitation told me everything. "He... may have suspected something when I first mentioned your mother's condition."
Another piece of the puzzle clicked into place. If Cypher had known or suspected my mother might be Nytherian—might havepassed that heritage to me—it would explain his interest, his careful manipulation to bring me into his orbit.
"Thank you for telling me the truth," I said quietly.
"I should have told you sooner," he admitted. "But with everything else happening..."
I nodded, understanding his reluctance to add more complications to an already tangled situation. "Let me know as soon as you hear anything from my mother."
As I left the workshop, my mind spun with possibilities, all of them insane. If my mother was indeed Nytherian, what did that make me? Half-Nytherian? Was that why my connection to the void was so strong? Why I could touch the First Dark when others couldn't?
And if she had been hiding this truth my entire life, what other secrets might she be keeping?
I made my way to the upper deck, needing fresh air to clear my head. Kora was there, drinking a mug of tea as she stared blankly toward the mountain in the distance. I stood beside her, and she immediately leaned her head to rest it on my shoulder.
"Did you ever wonder about my mother?" I asked. "About where she came from?"
Kora's brow furrowed as she looked up. "Not really. Why?"
I shook my head, not ready to share Vic's theory yet, even with her. "Just thinking about family. About secrets."
She leaned against the rail, her eyes on the frozen horizon. "My parents never talked much about their pasts either. I always figured it was because of the pain of something bad, you know? Some memories are better left buried."
But were they? Or did burying the past only ensure that its ghosts would eventually rise to haunt the present?
I closed my eyes, feeling the cool wind against my face. Somewhere out there, beyond the dead plains and frozen ocean, beyond the Gallery's shifting currents, my mother had theanswers I'd never thought to seek. And somehow, I knew those answers would change everything.
One month passedand we tried six more times to connect to the First Dark, each attempt leaving me more drained than the last.
Today marked our sixth failure. I collapsed onto the frozen ground, gasping for air as the darkness receded from my vision. My limbs felt like lead, my head pounding with the echoes of a thousand whispers that had nearly consumed me.
"That's enough," Zoya said firmly, helping me to my feet. "You need to rest."
I nodded weakly, too exhausted to argue. Each attempt followed the same pattern. I'd reach for the First Dark, feel it responding, stretching toward me like curious fingers. Then, just as connection seemed inevitable, something would snap. The void would rush in too fast, too hungry, and I'd have to pull back before it swallowed me completely.
"Three days," Tor rumbled, his massive frame blocking the biting wind. "Three days before we try again."
I wanted to protest but couldn't find the strength. The walk back to the ship felt impossibly long, my feet dragging throughthe gray dust of this dead realm. Cypher watched from the bow as we approached, his copper eyes tracking my stumbling progress. I looked away, refusing to acknowledge the concern there. His worry meant nothing to me now.
