Chapter 90
Aeliana stood at her mother’s bedside, the curtains and quilt looking oddly familiar. She’d seen them before in her mother’s memories of their time in Celanoft. A scream echoed through the room, and Aeliana bent over her mother.
“Hush now, love.” Her voice came out with Iris’ soft lilt. “On this next one I want no screaming, just pushing. It’s time.”
Her hands pressed a washcloth against Emeris’ brow before a strange calm overtook the room, allowing Aeliana the chance to catch her mother’s swollen belly and her father pacing in the corner.
Her mother stirred once more, then gripped Iris’ hand.
“Push now!” Iris instructed, even as Emeris strained and groaned, her face turning red with the effort.
It took several more contractions, but eventually a tiny head of dark hair emerged, and Iris pulled the baby out and lifted her onto Emeris’ belly. “It’s another girl,” she announced, and Rildan came over, his face beaming with pride.
Iris kept busy, rubbing the baby dry and then cleaning up Emeris, not allowing Aeliana time to process what she’d witnessed.
“Shouldn’t she be crying more?” Emeris asked.
“Every baby’s different. I wouldn’t complain if she was quieter than Aeliana.”
Rildan chuckled. “I’m sure Anara will catch up to her.”
Her parents beamed at each other, making Aeliana’s chest ache. The memory flickered, and for a moment she saw Gaeren and Orra watching her near the prison cell.
When she returned to the memory, Iris was carrying the baby down the hall, choking on sobs. She bumped into someone exiting a room, then gasped as Mayvus turned, her face far less lined but just as calculating.
“What do we have here?” Mayvus peered down at the blanket.
“Anara didn’t make it,” Iris choked out.
“Hmm.” Mayvus leaned closer. “You’re certain she’s dead?”
Iris shuddered. “She’s cold and limp. We hear no breaths or heartbeats.” She scooted around Mayvus before continuing her near run to the back door of the priestess’ quarters, which opened up to a garden in the Sungazer’s perimeter.
Her tears came faster as she found a spot to lay the baby before hunting down a shovel. As the last handful of dirt dropped down over the buried child, the memory seized around Aeliana, drawing her back to her place at Iris’ side.
Orra and Gaeren watched her with curiosity and concern. Beyond the bars, Sylmar sat hunched over, wetness on his cheeks dripping into his beard.
“I’m so sorry,” Iris whispered. “I should have told you about her. I should have told your mother that Mayvus was there. I never thought she could be alive.”
Aeliana dropped the maidservant’s hands, unable to process the apology. The memory couldn’t be accurate. Because that would mean Aeliana had a…
“What’s wrong?” Gaeren asked. “Did you see the memory?”
She blinked up at him, the added confusion over how she could still tune in to memories warring with the far bigger revelation.
There was only one way to truly test Sylmar’s theory, to verify Iris’ memory.
She pulled the daisy dagger from her belt and held it over her arm. The wrongness of what she was about to do flooded through her, but that was shame from her past, not conviction for the present. It wasn’t blood magic. Not if what Sylmar said was true.
Even if his words could be believed, the connection she was about to test might be just as sinister.
But she had to know.
“Aeliana?” Gaeren whispered, suddenly at her elbow.
She let the blade slice into the skin of her forearm, the pain a dull echo of all the times Arvid had carved his messages into her back. The others gasped, but no one moved to stop her. The words were crudely drawn, blood trailing from the lines like tears.
Who are you?
She set the dagger down on the ground and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths while waiting. The others probably thought she’d gone mad. She hoped that was closer to the truth than this other possibility.
With each moment that passed, hope grew that it had all been a lie. That Sylmar had yet one more agenda even from behind his cell door. They could pass off Iris’ memory as faulty. Lukai or Marnok could heal her arm, and they could all awkwardly laugh over how they’d been fooled by Sylmar.
When the first twinge came, Aeliana couldn’t help burying her face in her shaking hands.
She’d felt these twinges before. Strange pains and cuts that appeared from nowhere.
Slices on her palm that had come and gone.
She’d thought it was clumsiness. She thought it was madness left from her time being used by Arvid and Vera.
She’d thought it was visions she’d had of her fears coming true.
But it had always been more than that. It had been the echo of those things happening somewhere else, to someone else.
Someone else bleeding themselves for blood magic.
Gaeren wrapped his arms around her, and she leaned into his comfort, hating that she would have to be the one to tell them all that their horrors were just beginning.
When the sharp pain faded to a distant throb, she knew her time was up. She couldn’t bear the weight of it alone any longer. She stepped back and held out her arm.
Tears blurred her vision, but not before she caught sight of the confirmation she’d dreaded.
Hello, dear sister. I’m Anara.