Page 258 of The Mortal Trials

My mother’s hand clasps my wrist. “Sit down, Callalie.”

I try to jerk out of her grasp when I feel her layers of scars grate my skin.

“You deserve the truth, and you need my help.”

Who’s to say if she’s real? This may not be her at all.

She’s part of my trial. This is just part of the test. I have to endure her presence. I have to stay and listen, then I can go. Then I’ll move on to the rest of it and find Koda.

My mother clears her throat. “Our people, and our pantheon, live in a beautiful, sacred realm. A sanctuary crafted for us by the gods who made and love us. It’s called Aztlan. Do you remember Abuela telling you stories about it?”

I sink back into my chair, wondering if my mother will soon turn into a monster like Daedalus did. I’m trapped in this tiny room with her, with only my bare hands to defend myself. “Yes.”

She leans forward. “They weren’t just stories. When Aztlan was ready, some mortals did not want to leave this shared realm. Some had families with people from other bloods and wanted to remain. The gods elected a wise woman from those who wished to stay. The role was passed along the bloodline until it reached her.”

My heart thunders. The Pythia said that I was raised by a wise woman, but I didn’t think she meant… this.

“Abuela.”

My mother nods to confirm it. “It will be her duty until she dies.” She’s quiet for a moment. “Our gods only require the dedication of two mortals so the rest who remain can live peaceful lives: the wise woman to hold their history, and a single priestess whose blood can reach them through the division.”

I take in all the scars on her hands and arms again. Consider all the pain she’s endured. The vast lakes of sorrow welling beneath her eyes. The wrinkles that have crept onto her face since we were children and she abandoned us.

Her chin wobbles. “I never wanted to leave you,” she whispers.

They are not the words of a priestess. They are the words of a mother. The one we called Mamá before she left.

I remember the smell of her hair and tugging at her skirts when I needed her. And I remember when I realized I’d never see, or smell, or be comforted by her again.

Fresh tears well in my eyes and spill down my cheeks when I blink.

I have hated her for so long.

“I knew the moment I was called that you would need me. I just didn’t know then that it would be for this.”

The moment I was called.

She’s been waiting for this moment since the day she left us. Did she expect to meet a broken young woman where a whole one ought to be? Is she disappointed in the girl she’s waited for all this time?

Did we not need her as children? Did Carina not need her when Ares was killing her? Could she have stopped him and saved her?

I can almost hear Abuela’s voice in my head saying, It’s not her fault. She lost her, too. Always defending her. Burning copal for her, knowing we resented her for honoring our mother with it. Copal isn’t easy to come by. It’s an expense we didn’t need, but our grandmother insisted because she knew what Mamá had sacrificed and why. Abuela knew where our mother was all along.

“Abuela knew and never told us.” I am weary and defeated again, and this time the sword striking me down is forged from secrets and lies.

My mother starts to reach for me and stops herself, clearing her throat. “She wasn’t allowed to reveal her role or mine. If other gods knew who the wise woman and priestess were, they would hunt and kill us to cut our people’s ties to Aztlan for good. To strand them.”

A shiver skitters up my spine. “Apollo’s oracle called Abuela a wise woman just now, before she sent me here.”

Mamá’s eyes snap in the direction of the door I had taken, the one that’s now gone.

“She made a doorway that led to you. Does that mean she knows who you are?” I ask.

“The Pythia didn’t make that door. I felt your distress echo through my blood and opened the pathway for you,” she growls. She regards the smoke as it tumbles and coils from the floor, like it might hold the answer. “And then she tried to stop you from entering it so she could peer in and see me.”

That’s why she left her perch, spilled her cup of blood, and rushed after me. That’s why she invoked Carina’s name. She lied about having access to her. Carina is safe, able to move between Lugh’s meadows and, oh gods, Mictlan. The Mexica underworld.

I should have drowned the oracle when I had the chance.