“Your mother.”
When I turned to the elder, he shifted back. His elongated nails scratched the floor when he moved, and goosebumps traveled up my arms as I folded them across my chest. My voice vibrated against my sternum when I asked, “She did?” I didn’t have a singular memory of my mother with Camille.
The elder removed his nails from the floor only to comb his beard. “I had just arrived myself.” His knuckles went white when he gripped his facial hair. “A part of me wonders if her parents didn’t abandon her at all.”
My chest tightened. I knew Luthicer’s story. He left the Light to protect his daughter, but he had killed a dozen lights in order to do it. If his sleeves hadn’t been long, I would’ve been able to see his scars. “You killed her parents.”
The skin around Luthicer’s cheeks crinkled. “I can’t be certain,” he said, “but I was going to tell her when everything was over.” He only let go of his beard to touch her stone. “I suppose a lot of things went unsaid.”
“Like what?”
He hung his head. “When she arrived at the shelter, I was one of the elders who voted for her abandonment.”
Ostracization. It was rarely performed, but it did happen. Before I could question why he wanted to decide that fate for Camille, he continued, “Your mother was the only one to vote against it.” The side of his face lifted. “Evaline was a very persuasive person when she wanted to be.”
Evaline. It was her Dark name. She was born Kimberly Smith, and she was reborn Evaline when she was thirteen at the Naming. Those two facts were among the only things I knew about her.
“I don’t remember her very well,” I confessed, knowing I could count my memories of her on one hand. The time she showed me the bats was the most prominent one.
“You were kids when she died,” Luthicer said it without the singular word I expected to hear. Suicide. She shot herself in the head. Died instantly, according to the autopsy report. I had a copy stashed in my desk, and now, it rested under Abby’s portrait. Two of the three women I had lost.
“She took Camille in herself,” he said, but his voice rose and dropped as his tone shook. “We tried to tell her not to, but she didn’t believe in abandoning children.”
I huffed. “Aside from me.”
“Maybe she didn’t.”
My mouth snapped open to yell at him, to scream, to accuse him of crossing a line, but the expression that clouded his vision halted me. His eyes weren’t light eyes. They were flickering to brown. His human side was peeking through, and he laid a hand on his forehead to cover his irises.
“Do you remember the necklace Camille gave you?” His whisper was only audible due to the marble. It hissed into an undeniable echo.
He didn’t have to ask me. The elixir in the willow tree pendant had saved Jessica’s life after Fudicia had attacked her. “How could I forget?” A chuckle escaped me when I recalled how I had dropped it during a flight. Luthicer accused me of breaking the rules. I had hated him back then.
“That jewelry was special,” he said. “That power was special.”
“I know.” Being able to imbed a spell in liquid was unique. That was the singular reason Luthicer had caught us. He knew Camille was the only one who could’ve made it, and he figured out she would only give it to me. “You nearly terrorized me because of it.”
Luthicer wasn’t laughing. “Your mother taught Camille how to do that.”
My breath caught itself.
“Your mother taught Camille more than I did,” he continued, “and if I had to bet, she had enchanted more pieces than just a necklace.” His fingers flicked over, but it was enough. He was pointing to my ring. “This isn’t the first time you’ve had it, you know.”
I searched my memories, but nothing came.
“Your mother gave you hers the night she died.”
My hand stretched out in front of me, but I couldn’t picture it in my hands as a child. I only remembered the night she showed me the bats, and the memory was clouded by the time I took Jessica to see them.
“She always wanted you to have them,” he said. “Your father only held them for you until you were old enough.”
The elders knew about the rings just like they had known about the prophecy. It was the singular rule the prophecy had proven to be true. My love for the third descendant, for Jessica, was unbreakable.
“Maybe waiting was a mistake,” he finished.
The sapphires had once glowed, but now they were dim, even in the candlelight. My ring seemed to be an ordinary jewel—nothing more than a family heirloom—but every person I knew appeared to be human until they transformed. My necklace had been ordinary until it wasn’t. Everything around me was special. My ring wasn’t an exception to the rule.
“Maybe that jewelry,” Luthicer said and hesitated. “Maybe it’s the only reason you are alive.”
I leapt to my feet, and Luthicer mirrored me. It was only then that I realized I was in a fighting stance. My body had taken over. Luthicer’s sleeves had fallen when he raised his arms, and his white scars radiated in the darkness. I dropped my hands, and so did he.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered as my mind raced. The information was overwhelming.
Luthicer’s breath was loud as it expelled from his lungs, but he calmed down as he rolled his sleeves down. When he leaned forward, he used the cloth to clean Camille’s grave. I had left smudges where I had hit it.
His eyes met mine in the clean reflection. “You died in the Light realm, didn’t you?”
I stepped back. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.” He spun around, his height towering over me. “Shades cannot live there, and half-breeds only can when Darthon allows it.” That was why Camille had probably died. “But you didn’t die. Not entirely.”
I did die. I succumbed to darkness over and over again. They melded together, and they brought my breath back every moment after. Darthon hadn’t been able to kill me, but he thought it was Jessica who was protecting me. That was why he wanted to separate us. But it was the ring.
It was my mother.
But it was more than that. It was the connection Darthon wanted to sever. If Luthicer was right—if the jewelry had kept me alive—then, Jessica’s ring was a part of the spell. That meant one thing. If she wasn’t wearing her ring, Darthon could kill me.
When I started to leave, Luthicer grabbed my arm. “I know you didn’t know your mother, but she loved you very much.” His nails dug into my bicep, and I knew he thought I was focused on my mother’s death instead of my life. “And I think you need to talk to your father about it.”
Darthon had thought the same thing.
I pulled away from Luthicer’s grasp. “I’m not sure how to talk to him.”
“Just talk,” he said, like it was a simple thing. “Parents are supposed to be there for that sort of thing.”
I whipped around to face him. “Are you there for Jada?”
His eyes widened, and then softened in seconds. “So, you figured it out.”
“Wasn’t that hard to guess.” Jada was his daughter. “Where’s her mother?”
“We divorced when Jada was born,” he explained. “Much like Urte’s situation.”
I tried to picture the elders as young men, the years of marriages, births, divorces, and deaths I had missed. But nothing came.
“It isn’t an easy thing,” he spoke, “letting someone you love go.”
“Are you talking about yourself or me?”
“Love is like coping, Eric.” For once, Luthicer smiled. “It’s a daily adventure, and some days are easier than others, but,” he paused, “there’s always another day to do it again.”
He began to leave, but I was the one to stop our separation this time. “She took off her ring.”
Since I couldn’t talk to her, I needed someone else to tell her to put it back on. I wanted Luthicer to do it, but he laughed. “Even I thought you would have noticed the necklace.”
&nbs
p; “Necklace?”
He pointed to his neck. “It’s new.” He had to say Jessica’s name for me to understand what I had missed. “I imagine she has something hanging from it.”
I stared at the man. “You didn’t notice that on your own.”
“Someone might have tipped me off.”
Who it could’ve been was beyond me, but that didn’t matter. Jessica was still wearing the ring, and that meant our connection wasn’t severed like I thought it had been. Darthon couldn’t kill me. Not as long as my mother’s spell worked.
“That reminds me of others things I heard,” he said and began to walk toward the exit. “Abby’s portrait.”
“I’ll return it.”
“Keep it.” He lingered at the entrance, but I couldn’t see his face. He was a silhouette against the bright hallway. Only his white hair glowed. “Remember how many people we’ve lost for this, Eric,” he said. “Don’t become the next memorial.”
30
Jessica
It only took two hours to pack my clothes. The Dark promised to get the rest, and my parents had gone out to dinner while I collected my things. Luthicer would meet them when they came home. He would put an illusion on them and remove it when the danger was over—whenever that happened. No one could estimate a timeline. I even packed my summer clothes, but I hadn’t expected Bracke to pick me up.
We didn’t speak until we walked through four corridors of the shelter. “Here’s your room.” He used his shoulder to open the door, and the wood creaked as if it hadn’t been used since the place was built.
While he lugged in two of my duffel bags, I stood in the doorway. The room was larger than I was expecting, but it was also colder. The square space held a desk, wardrobe, and bed. A queen mattress rested on a black frame, and the headboard was decorated with ivy etchings. But only one thing caught my full attention. A painting easel sat by the desk. Pierce. He must have brought it. I shoved it out of my mind to ask Bracke the one question on my mind since arriving.
“Where’s his room?” I didn’t have to clarify who I was talking about.
“The other side.” Bracke placed my bags on my bed.
“How far away is the other side?”
“Far.”
I leaned against the wall to prevent myself from stepping into the hallway. Despite all the time I trained in the shelter, it was bigger than I realized. It probably took up half of Hayworth’s underground, and I imagined the Dark had shades in the city council that allowed it to happen. The entire town held secrets.
“I know you don’t like this, Jess, and I’m sorry.” My bed creaked when Bracke sat down on the mattress. “This is my fault, and I hope you don’t hate me for it.” He laid his forearms on his knees. “I already think of you as a daughter.” His words made me bite my lip. “Perhaps that’s why I’m selfish when it comes down to protecting you both.”
My gaze moved over the man who had once been so cold about Eric. When I met him, he questioned why I would even want to work with his son. I hadn’t understood their circumstances then, but I did now. Eric’s father wasn’t cold at all. He was the opposite. He was protective.
When I didn’t speak, Bracke stood up. “I made sure your parents get the best treatment possible—”
“Did you know my parents?” I interrupted before he could consider leaving.
Bracke’s eyes widened. “Your biological ones?”
I nodded.
He leaned against the bedposts. “You must know by now—”
“They were in the Light,” I confirmed without telling him Fudicia’s parents had been the murderers.
Bracke’s brow furrowed. “But we were the ones to save you that day.”
It was everything I suspected, but hearing it out loud was different. My back slid against the wall as I sat on the floor next to the bags I had carried. “I want to know everything.”
“Originally, we thought they were attacking our own,” he said without hesitation. The elders meant it when they agreed to tell us the truth now. “When we realized they were attacking lights.” He sighed. “We figured out who you were.”
“How?” As a baby, I wouldn’t have had a Name. “You wouldn’t have known until Shoman was Named—”
“Instincts,” he interrupted. “We think the mothers knew when the children were born.” His expression twisted. “When Eric was born, we reminded Kim it wasn’t for certain.” Kim was Eric’s mother. “But that wasn’t enough for her.”
It wasn’t enough for my parents either. I knew that was why they ran. It was also the reason they were killed. But I didn’t have a reason for the Dark’s final decision.
“Why didn’t you keep me?” I asked.
Bracke’s wrinkles stiffened into hard lines. “My wife,” he paused. “She—she struggled. A lot.” He didn’t have to remind me of her death.
Everyone in Hayworth knew she killed herself on Independence Day. It was the reason I didn’t understand Eric’s love for the holiday, but perhaps, it was his only connection to the woman who gave him life.
My hand snaked up to my shirt, and I grabbed her ring through my shirt. “Did she want me gone?”
Bracke whipped his face toward me before he shook his head. “Quite the opposite, Jess,” he said. “She wanted to adopt you herself.” When he steadied his head, a frown broke his expression. “I wanted you gone.”
My heart slammed into my chest.
“My wife’s struggles, they didn’t begin with Eric or you,” he paused to take a breath. “She was a good woman. Perhaps, too good of a person.” He rubbed his forehead. “She didn’t want you two to go through the pain of the prophecy, and I—” His voice shook. “I’ve made mistakes thinking I could control it, thinking I could control Eric.”
When Bracke stood, I saw a man who had only tried to protect his family.
“You should know Eric made sure we wouldn’t hurt you before he told us anything,” he said and straightened his shirt. “He’s on your side, and so are we.” He took two steps toward me before he looked at me. “I’m only sorry you thought we might not be, but I cannot blame you.” He laid out his hand, and I took it before he helped me stand up. “I can’t blame him either.” His grasp dropped from mine. “I see her in him.”
“What was she like?” I asked.
“She was beautiful.” A smile broke his lips, but it twitched. “But even the most beautiful people can have ugly insides,” he said. “I love her anyway.”
Love. He hadn’t stopped loving her, and he had always loved Eric.
“I suppose that’s why I left him to Camille.” He spoke about his son as if he had lost him, too. “I didn’t want to find out if he didn’t just look like her.”
“I think you should talk to Eric before you talk to me about this,” I stopped him before he could continue. Her ugly insides—whatever they were—weren’t something for me to know before her son knew about them.
Bracke’s bottom lip hung open before he snapped it shut. He nodded and laid his palm on top of my head in the same way Eric touched me. “You saved him from me,” he said and dropped his touch. “Thank you.”
He turned toward the door, but I called after him, “You’re a good father.”
When he froze in the doorway, he laid his hand on the doorframe. “I appreciate that, Jess,” he said toward the hallway, “but I have a lot to fix before I can believe that.” He only glanced over his shoulder once. “Please, let me know if you need anything at all.”
His voice trailed over the room as he left, swerving to the side. I didn’t know why until Pierce ducked by. “Hey, Bracke.”
The elder walked away, ignoring my guard and disappearing into the corridors of the shelter I had yet to explore.
Pierce leaned into the hallway to watch him before he leaned back into my new room. He ran a hand through his black hair. “What’s with him?”
“I don’t know.” I dragged my bags over to the wardrobe.
Pierce followed me, but for othe
r reasons. He leapt onto my bed and bounced up and down like a child. “This hotel gets five stars.”
I cracked a smile. “What are you doing here?” Unlike Eric and me, he had to go to school. If he was here, it was only because after-school activities had released. He normally stayed after to paint in art club, but only when Urte didn’t have training planned.
“Thought I’d welcome you to the lair.”
I chuckled, but gestured toward the painting easel. “You’ve done enough.”
Pierce didn’t follow my movements. Instead, he pointed to the doorway. “Plus, he wanted to see you, too.”
“Hey, Jess!” Brenthan stumbled over himself as he ran into the room. If it weren’t for their age gap, the brothers could’ve been twins.
“Hey,” I said as Pierce’s little brother leapt onto my bed, too.
“Yep,” he agreed. “Five stars.” He grabbed a pillow and pretended to fluff it. “Maybe four.”
Pierce laid a hand on Brenthan’s head. “That’s enough, kid,” he spoke through a smile. “You do have training.”
“Fine,” he grumbled and ducked away from Pierce’s touch. “You’re really going to live here, though?”
I nodded. “But you’re not supposed to know that.”
“Like anyone could hide it from me.” His scrawny chest poked out. “Don’t you know? I’m a warrior now.”
Pierce leaned forward and pushed his brother’s back. “And warriors train,” he said. “Go beat someone up.”
“I’ll win,” he declared before running off. “See you later, Jess,” he called over his shoulder before disappearing into the same hallway as Bracke.
Pierce stared at the doorway like his brother stood there. “He still acts like a kid sometimes.”
I sat down next to my guard. “You say that like you aren’t one.” Like me, he had a summer birthday. We wouldn’t be eighteen until after graduation.
“Eh,” Pierce brushed off my words, but his face fell into an expression he rarely held. He was about to be serious. “Why didn’t you tell me about the realm?”
I looked at the floor. Showing my powers hadn’t just shocked the elders. “I should’ve,” I admitted. “I know that.”
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