“You took longer than I expected. Welcome, granddaughter. Come in, please, come in. I have some pastries and coffee waiting, although they aren’t as fresh as whatever your brother might be baking this morning.”
“What, you can’t tell what it is this time?” Sia said, her question coming out harsher than she might have liked. She blamed her grouchiness on the early hour, the lack of caffeine, and the fact that she hadn’t gotten to try her brother’s latest baked concoction. But she still apologized, an apology Piru waved off and told her was completely unnecessary.
“I know how you are when you have to get up too early. I also know whatever it is you’ve come here to tell me is important, so let’s get some coffee into you and sit down, and then you can fill me in.”
Sia was surprised that her grandfather didn’t already know what she’d seen in the mirror the previous night, but she was always forgetting that he couldn’t see everything. Some of the most important parts of the future were always hidden to him, no matter how hard he tried to learn of what was to come. That had been a problem with the prophecy for Wren, but that was mainly due to the gaps in the Winged Blue’s book of prophecies. If even a book that powerful was missing such information, it was, of course, impossible that Piru would be able to fill in the book’s missing sections.
Sia couldn’t wait to inform her grandfather of the prior night’s vision, or whatever it had been, so before he’d even poured her coffee, she began to tell him all about it. “I’m not even sure if it was a vision,” she said, “but if it was, I really need to know what to do about it.”
“I’m almost positive it wasn’t a vision. I think…let me see,” Piru said, and he took her hand in his. “I think you were dreaming, and that it wasn’t prophetic, but just a symbol of your fears for our future. I will give you some special juice, from a tree I grow out back. It will help you with any future bad dreams. You do need your sleep to be restful, after all, and not filled with scary nonsense like what you just described.”
Sia had trouble believing that it had been only a dream, but her grandfather always knew what he was talking about, or at least he had up until this moment, so she couldn’t find any reason not to believe him now. She finished her breakfast and told him she wanted to return home to lie down, and after Piru handed her a corked glass bottle full of dark-purple juice and she gave him a quick hug good-bye, she headed home.
Chapter Twenty-six
After breakfast and more target practice, Wren sat in the library with her stepmom for a bit, her mind still a flurry of questions about her biological mother and the possibility of seeing her again. Before she could stop herself, she tapped Denise on the shoulder.
“Just a minute,” Denise said, and she marked her place in the book she’d been in the middle of.
“It’s really nice to see you reading, Mom,” Wren told her.
“There are no TVs around here to watch, so I decided I might as well pick up a new hobby. Thanks to what that Winged woman gave me, I’ve been lucky enough to avoid any ill effects from not drinking any more alcohol, but I have been going through a bit of Earth-based withdrawal. So, was there something you wanted to ask me, Wren?”
“Just…well, this is hypothetical, but what chance do you think I have of seeing my birth mom here? And what do you think I should do if she were to contact me, tell me she wanted to meet me?” Wren was counting on Denise not catching on to the fact that these questions weren’t hypothetical in the least.
“I’m sorry, Wren, but I doubt that your mom will get in touch with you here. After all, no one has heard from her in many years. But…but if you were to hear from her, I would tell you to definitely take her up on the offer of seeing her again. After all, she owes you some explanations and some affection from all those wonderful years she missed out on with you.” Denise paused, and she looked as though she might have a question for Wren now. It turned out that she did. “Wren, hon, can I ask you something now?”
“Sure, Mom, anything.”
Denise chewed on her lower lip for a second, her hesitancy at asking whatever it was as clear as could be. “Are you…are you mad, at your dad and me, for keeping the fact from you that I’m not your biological mother? I really hope you aren’t, but I also really wouldn’t blame you if it had made you angry, or disappointed in us, or anything like—”
“Of course not, Mom!” Wren was quick to answer. “You’re…you’re more of a real mom to me than she’ll ever be, and I guess I kind of understand Dad keeping the truth from me. After all, I might have tried to contact her, if I had found out, and that would have maybe opened me up to asking a whole bunch of questions before Torien was ready to answer them.”
“That’s great to hear, Wren. A very big relief, to be sure. Now, would you mind if I return to my book? It’s at a particularly exciting part right now—the queen is just about to find out who was trying to do away with her husband.”
“Maybe I’ll read that book after you’re done with it, if you’re enjoying it that much. It’s great to see you so hooked on a novel, you know. But I think I’ll go to Piru’s now. I have some things to ask him about, things only he might know.”
“Of course, Wren, go ahead.” But Denise sounded as though she was already miles away, and Wren smiled to herself at the new but comforting vision before her, her mom totally lost within the pages of a book.
On the way over to Piru’s, she began to worry that he might not appreciate her showing up like this, uninvited. But when she arrived at his doorstep, he was already out on the porch, a pitcher of red, seed-filled juice next to two tall, ice-filled glasses on a small table. Today’s robe had a blue raven surrounded by a blue-and-black ouroboros, even prettier than the last one Wren had seen him wear.
“Pull up a chair, Wren,” he said, gesturing to the empty chair on the other side of the table with a welcoming smile. “Despite the fact that I was expecting to see you today, I actually don’t know why you’ve come. So I would love it if you would fill me in and share a glass of strawberry juice with me.”
“I’m glad it’s all right that I’m here, and I’ll be more than happy to fill you in, because I really need some answers.” Wren sat down in one of the table’s matching wicker chairs and waited only long enough for Piru to pour her a glass of juice before she began. “I met someone at my birthday party, a woman, and she found me again last night. She told me that my birth mom, Passea, is in trouble, and that her life depends on my following this woman’s instructions. I don’t know what to do, so I came here to get some help from you in deciding how I should handle this. I want to help her, I really do, but I just don’t know if it’s a good idea.”
“Oh, Wren, I think you already know, despite what you may be thinking. Forgive me for being so forward, but I think you’ve spent almost your entire life doubting what your gut is telling you, and I think in this case, it’s telling you to help your mom. It’s what I would do, anyway, and I know you’re good-hearted enough to do the right thing. No wonder I couldn’t see this coming, though, as it’s a pretty darned big deal!” Piru chuckled, and Wren smiled for the first time since she’d arrived. She wondered for a moment why he hadn’t been able to foresee it, but apparently he couldn’t see everything. It was amazing enough to Wren that he could see as much of the future as he could.
“You really think I should go to her? I guess that’s what I think I should do, too.”
“I’m positive. Wait, let me take a moment to see if I can see anything of your future that involves your mom, now that you’ve told me.” Piru closed his eyes and fell silent. Then he began to speak, a slight smile on his lips. “I see you…saving your mother. Yes, you will save her, and by doing so, well, the Blue’s safety depends on it…on you. You will rescue her, and she will be so, so happy to see you again.” Piru reopened his eyes, grinning at Wren. “I know you should do as this woman asked. I don’t have a single doubt in my mind. Now, do you already have plans for lunch?”
“I should probably g
et home, actually. I don’t want anyone to think anything is up before I leave to join that woman tonight.”
“Of course you don’t!”
“I’m not supposed to tell anyone about this, by the way, but I figured I could trust you with it. I can, right?”
“Of course, of course. I won’t tell a single Winged soul. Promise.”
*
Right after Wren had left, Piru went back inside. As soon as she’d disappeared from his sight, his eyes had begun to change color. By the time he’d gone over to the corner of his living room, they had turned entirely crimson.
In that particular corner of the room, a blue cloth cloaked a large, rectangular object. Removing the cloth, Piru revealed the mirror that had been hidden behind it. The sound of flapping wings came from beneath the mirror’s surface, and then a red raven alighted on a table within the mirror’s now non-reflective glass. “Have you done as you’ve been told?” the raven asked him.
“Yes, I have,” he answered. Piru’s voice sounded distant, and though his eyes were staring straight into the mirror, it was almost as if he were looking beyond it, to another time or place.
“She will be following Ember’s request and the directions in the envelope?”
“Yes, she will.”
“Good. You will continue to tell us everything, everything the Winged Blue have planned, correct?”
“Correct. I will do as you tell me, always.”
“You may return to your day’s activities now, but I expect frequent reports from you as to your people’s plans.”
Then the mirror became a mirror again, and Piru covered it back up with the opaque cloth, blinking a few times as they returned to their normal pale-blue color. He went outside and picked up the pitcher in one hand and the glasses in the other, carrying them back inside. Halfway to the kitchen, one of the glasses slipped out of his hand, spilling bright-red juice across the hardwood floor. “Oh my, gosh darn it.” Piru went into the kitchen and moistened a dishrag, humming to himself as he walked into the living room again and starting mopping up the mess.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Night arrived faster than Wren expected it to, considering what she thought it might hold for her. As the sun slowly set, the anticipation she’d been feeling during the rest of the day had grown so intense, she felt as if she could taste it on her tongue: a sour taste with a touch of potential sweetness. It held two possibilities for that night: the chance that this reunion would be wonderful and everything would go well, or that she would completely fail to save her birth mother. Even though she wanted to meet Passea, and had wanted to ever since she’d discovered Denise wasn’t really her mom, she still felt immense love for her stepmother, love that seemed as if it might not be replicated with her actual mother.
But all of it would be revealed soon enough. Everyone had now gone to bed, and Wren, with the envelope from Elle in her pocket, had begun to sneak out of the house. Halfway down the stairs, she heard voices, voices that sounded like the triplets. So she tiptoed to the far side of the door the voices seemed to be traveling through. She planned to ignore whatever they were saying as she left, but then she heard one of them say her name. As quietly as possible, she found her way to the edge of the doorway and cupped her ear to listen.
First she heard Speyd, who was saying, “…dumb girl. I can’t believe she fell for it, for her father’s lies. For everyone’s lies. What an idiot!”
“Yeah,” said Faest, “I can’t believe she fell for all of it, either. And so quickly, too!”
Then it was Quiq who spoke, and his words hurt Wren the most. “I can’t believe it, either. To think that she imagines she matters to us in the least! I’ve even convinced Denise that I have feelings for her! So, do you think Torien’s plan will work, to manipulate Wren into helping us conquer the Winged Red?”
She’d heard enough. As tears began sliding down her cheeks, Wren left the triplet’s cruelty behind and made her way to the mansion’s front door. Then she was outside and away from those ugly words. She didn’t want to think about what the triplets had said, what the truth really was about all of the Winged Blue. She didn’t want to accept that none of them cared for her, not even her father. It seemed certain now that she was making the right decision, and she hoped her mother would be different than the rest of the Blue, and that she and Elle would be enough to help Wren heal her now-shattered heart.
About a block away from the house, she opened the envelope from Elle. It contained a square of pale-beige paper, with words she didn’t recognize written on it in elegant, curving handwriting. She heard sounds coming from the paper, as if it were whispering, and then it began to pull at her arm, and so she followed its lead, letting it guide her in a familiar direction, until she found herself in front of the alley where she’d seen Elle the previous night.
The magical paper pulled her into the alley, and then it felt as if the paper were heating up, its temperature rising quickly. As it got warmer, it changed from the color of parchment to a glowing red. Soon it was too hot to hold. Wren dropped it, the paper falling straight to the ground as if made of stone. Then mist, like the one Elle had disappeared into each time, began to flow from the paper, but this mist was most definitely not blue. The red haze spread before Wren could escape it, until it was all she could see, and then it began to dissipate as quickly as it had appeared.
When it had faded from her vision completely, Wren no longer stood in the alley. Instead, she was in an opulently decorated hall. In its center sat a long, garnet-colored table, and red-velvet curtains lined the walls. Two women, dressed in form-fitting, red robes, stood only a few feet from where Wren had suddenly appeared. One she recognized as Elle. The other was an older woman she had never seen before, although something about her still struck Wren as familiar.
“I’m afraid I’ve lied to you,” Elle said, looking very happy to see Wren. “My name isn’t Elle. It’s Ember.”
“And mine is Passea,” the woman said. “Welcome to Kremsin, Wren, the home of the Winged Red. Welcome home.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
If it hadn’t been for what she’d overheard the triplets saying, Wren would have tried to outrun Passea and Ember. Instead, she just tried to stay calm and waited for an explanation.
Apparently, there wouldn’t be one. “We will explain everything in the morning, Wren, darling,” Passea told her with a kind smile, “but I think for now, you should head to your bedroom. After all, you need to rest, because we have much to accomplish in the next few days. Ember will lead you to your quarters, which I hope will meet your approval. I tried to make them as lavish as I possibly could. May I give you a hug good night?”
Wren didn’t know how she felt about getting a hug from a woman who had kidnapped her, even if she happened to be Wren’s close relation. She gave in, though, with a quick nod, and Passea pulled her into a warm embrace. Then she kissed Wren on the cheek. “Off to bed with you, now, young lady. Sweet dreams.”
Feeling very tired, not to mention completely confused, Wren followed Ember down a dimly lit hallway that began to the left of the large table. When they reached a set of double doors, Ember opened the one on the right. Ember led her through it by the hand, taking Wren’s in hers without asking first. This bothered Wren only slightly, because the room they’d just entered actually managed to take her breath away.
It was almost as huge as the room she’d first arrived in, with a high, domed ceiling that held revolving, glimmering stars and a moon that was smoothly flowing through all of its phases. In the center of the room lay a bed with red ribbons winding around the bars of its wooden headboard, ribbons that somehow were dancing in the room’s still air. One of the room’s large walls was lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and the opposite one held a tall, wide terrarium, inside of which were salamanders and frogs, all various shades of red, some with black or purple markings scattered across their skin.
“Do you like it?” Ember asked, her tone implying that
she already knew Wren’s answer.
“Yes, oh yes, very much. It’s amazing.”
“I picked out the amphibians myself, and they’re all trained to be held. So, I guess should let you get some sleep now, but remember that your mom will explain everything in the morning, with a nice, big breakfast as an added bonus. Our chef is the best in all the land, so bring your appetite. Now, come here.” She held out her hand, and Wren could find no reason to hesitate, so she let Ember draw her into her arms, her embrace soon joined by a kiss, long and deep. Many others, with the occasional dart of Ember’s long tongue into Wren’s mouth, followed this first kiss.
“Sleep well, Wren.” Ember let go of her and left Wren alone in her room to wonder about what the next day would bring. Would she even be able to sleep, with all these abrupt discoveries and all of the immense changes in the past few hours?
A set of silk, crimson pajamas lay on the table to the left of her bed. Wren changed into them, more than ready to get some rest. As she climbed into the soft, comfortable bed, though, she realized that Ember had lied to her: her mother’s life hadn’t been in danger. Had all of Ember’s words been just a ruse to lure her here? But she also realized then that she wanted to stay, despite the large untruth Ember had told to get her here.
Yes, Wren decided: she belonged here, because now she knew the Winged Blue’s secret, the one they’d hidden from her so very well up until this night. She could no longer trust the Blue, not after what she’d overheard today.
*
A flock of red ravens was throwing Wren a party. They all wore glittery party hats, and bright, silver confetti fell as Wren dug into her chocolate cake. Then the ravens began to caw, their warning sounds echoing through the hall where Wren sat. She looked outside past the wall of tall windows and saw that beyond their wrought-iron frames, clouds were filling the sky, clouds that were a dark, cobalt blue. Then large droplets of rain began to fall, hammering against the windows, and one by one, the windows all shattered. Along with the rain, raven after raven, all different shades of blue, began flying into the room. The red ravens rose up from the table, and each red raven began a battle with a blue one, clawing and pecking at each other with far more violence than Wren had ever wanted to see in person. Dark blue and red droplets began to flood into the rain, all of them falling from the ravens’ wounded flesh.
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