Chapter 23 #2
"Lenora wrote about the memory stones. She believed they were feeding the Shroud. Keeping it intact." I watch Mother's face. "Is that true?"
"Yes,” she says, no hesitation. "The Shroud grew after each Reckoning. When we learned about the sacrifices at the Bratus, we realized the connection. Pain feeds it. Grief feeds it."
"So you used the memory stones,” I whisper. "You fed the Shroud deliberately. To keep it strong."
She nods. Sharp. Unapologetic. "The Shroud keeps us hidden. Cato cannot find us. His hunters cannot reach us. The only opening is during the Reckoning, and few are foolish enough to travel through."
My chest squeezes. You built a wall of stolen grief and call it protection." I blink rapidly, clearing the tears from my eyes as I look at the three of them. “The Moon Festival. You created it as a diversion. So when the Reckoning happened every ten years, no one would notice."
None of them denies it.
"People come here during the Festival. They beg to stay. They want to forget their pasts. Start over." I shake my head. "Why purchase anyone?”
"We have never purchased anyone,” Sara snaps. "The treaty is signed in blood. We cannot question who the Council admits. We cannot intervene in their ceremonies. The oath forbids it."
"Do not tell me what you can and cannot do!" My voice shakes with fury. “Your people were enslaved and you've allowed the Council to do the same to others! You can spin it whatever way you like and blame the blood oath, but it doesn't make it right!”
"I have been trying to keep you safe!" The roar tears out of her. "I couldn't save my sister. I have done everything in my power to protect her children!"
My sigil burns so hot I expect smoke to rise from my chest plate. But the anger shifts. Twists into something worse. Horrified disbelief. I stare at the woman who raised us. Who taught us so much. And yet so little.
“Your sister was kidnapped and enslaved, and the best you could come up with was to build a cage for her children and to trick us into believing that it was a safe haven?" I whisper. "Do you expect us to be grateful for that?"
She surges to her feet, slamming her palms on the desk. "I am not asking for your gratitude! I did what I had to do to keep you alive!"
"You used me!" I shoot out of my chair, sigil blazing with barely contained fury.
"You pretend that letting us use our gifts is kindness.
You sit here and talk about Cato draining your sister, but you used her daughter just the same!
You made me complicit in all of this! You taught me to hone my emotive alchemy to make poison!
You used my empathy …" My voice cracks on that word.
I stop and take a breath. "You used my empathy to weld chains. "
"You have no idea what you're talking about!" Her eyes blaze silver. "You have no idea what Cato will do if he finds you. Why do you think your brother was willing to go to the Keep? To let the Council take him?"
My knees nearly give out. I catch myself on the edge of the desk. "What does that mean?"
"Jordi had a dream about your mother. He saw what Cato did to her. How he drained her to keep his scepter alive. He knows what will happen when Cato discovers he has a daughter. A healer. Just like Pia."
Not if. When. The air leaves my lungs. I grip the desk harder to stay upright.
"Cato is looking for a son. And Jordi let himself be taken to the Keep. Where Cato's most devoted follower is waiting." I shake my head. "How does that make any sense?"
"Right now, Constantine believes he's the heir. As long as he clings to that lie, it buys us time to—"
"Time?" I bark out a laugh. "You cannot be that delusional. The final Reckoning is happening. The cage you built is crumbling. Constantine already knows you raised children here. It's only a matter of time before he realizes you singled some out for special treatment."
"He already has three of the seven in his legion. And Jordi is in his Keep. You handed Cato's heir directly to his most loyal follower!"
"What are you saying? How would he know about the children we raised?" Freida's voice is barely a whisper.
"I don’t know, but Arlo overheard Constantine and Nicolas. Those legion guards you've allowed to search Veritas? They're not hunting renegades." I swing my gaze to Mother. "They're hunting us."
I step closer. "So tell me. Where is all this time you think you have? Because I don't see it."
"May Ignata spare us," Anala breathes.
"Jordi thought he could find the memory stones before the curse broke. Prevent deaths." Freida's fear is plain on her face. "We told him not to go. When he was taken, I tried to get him out. But they moved him."
"Where?"
"Luisa believes he's in the Hall of Gratitude." Freida swallows. "Which is a problem. Because we can't get in."
"Because of the wards,” I say, my mind already racing ahead.
"Yes."
"Luisa can't bypass them?"
"She's a known Veritas guard. The wards are keyed to names. That's what makes them effective. No registered Veritas resident can enter."
I mull that over. If the wards are keyed to names the Council knows, then only registered residents would be blocked. But the Council doesn't know about me.
Or Naima. Or Margot. And Malachi and Kage aren't residents at all. My gaze snaps to the blood-red sky beyond the windows. I'm moving before I've finished the thought.
"Ada!" Sara shouts. "Where are you going?"
I grip the doorknob and turn to her. "To get Jordi out of there!"
"You can't just storm in there," Freida says, bewildered. "You have to–"
I yank the door open. "I know what I have to do."
"You're wrong," Sara says.
I freeze in the doorway, sigil flaring, ready for another fight. But when I turn, she's smiling. Not the sad smile from before. Something fiercer. Something proud.
"You, Ada the Tempest, are unequivocally your mother's daughter."