Chapter 16 #5
I avoided Cypher for the next three days, which wasn't difficult on a ship where everyone was actively helping me do so.
The crew ran interference, ensuring we were never alone together.
Meals were tense when he was present, which became increasingly rare as he came to realize his presence was unwelcome.
On the fourth day, I found myself in Vic's workshop, helping him organize his chaotic collection of notes and instruments. The busy work kept my mind occupied, preventing it from spiraling into darker thoughts.
"Pass me that calibrator, would you?" Vic asked, gesturing vaguely toward a pile of brass instruments.
I sorted through them, eventually finding what I assumed was a calibrator—a device with several dials and a small crystal at its center. "This?"
"Yes, perfect." He took it, immediately becoming absorbed in adjusting its settings.
I watched him work, fascinated. "What exactly are you doing?"
"Trying to establish a more stable communication link with the Prime Realm," he explained, not looking up. "The distance and interference from this realm's unusual properties are making it difficult. The dying star emits random solar flares that block communication in random intervals."
"Have you received any news about my parents?"
His hands stilled briefly. "Yes, actually.
I was going to tell you at supper." He set down his tools and turned to face me.
"Your father is fully recovered. He and your mother have moved temporarily to Saurah's family home in the outer bend, as planned.
They're safe, and Gideon's men haven't found them. "
Relief washed through me. "Thank you for checking."
He nodded, then hesitated. "There's something else. Your mother... her condition has stabilized somewhat. The new medicine I ordered seems to be helping."
"That's good news," I said cautiously, noting his careful phrasing. "But?"
"But it's only temporary relief, not a cure." He removed his eyeglasses, cleaning them with the edge of his shirt, a nervous habit I noticed. "Juno, I have a theory about your mother's illness."
I straightened, suddenly alert. "What kind of theory?"
He hesitated, fingers tapping nervously on his workbench. "I've seen something similar before.". It's rare, but..." He shook his head. "No, it couldn't possibly be the same thing."
"What?" I pressed, leaning forward. "Vic, if you know something about my mother's condition, please tell me."
He met my eyes. "Among the Nytherian refugees in the Dredge, there was a condition. We called it black breath. It affected only a select few. Those with certain... magical aptitudes."
"What does that have to do with my mother?"
"The symptoms are remarkably similar. Black fluid in lungs, progressive weakness, resistance to conventional treatments. It occurs when someone with innate abilities is prevented from using them properly. The magic turns inward, corrupting the body from within."
"That doesn't make any sense," I said, shaking my head. "My mother doesn't have abilities. Before I was born, she was just a librarian for the Assembly. She sorted books and scrolls until she got too sick to work."
Vic's expression became more troubled. "Are you certain about that? About her past?"
"Of course I'm—" I stopped, suddenly uncertain. "I mean, that's what she always told me."
"What about her family? Where did they come from originally?"
I opened my mouth to answer, then closed it again.
A strange hollowness opened in my chest as I realized I didn't actually know.
"I... I never met any grandparents. No aunts or uncles.
It's always been just Mom and Dad." I frowned, searching my memories.
"And Kora's parents for a while, but they weren't blood relatives.
They were just friends before they died. "
Vic watched me carefully. "You never asked about your mother's family?"
"I did, when I was younger. She always changed the subject or said they were gone." I rubbed my temples, trying to remember if she'd ever given me anything concrete. "I assumed they'd died in some accident or illness. After a while, I stopped asking."
"And your father? Did he ever mention them?"
"No." The realization felt strange, like discovering a room in my home I'd never noticed before. "He always deferred to Mom on family matters."
Vic nodded slowly, as if confirming something to himself. "Juno, I believe your mother may have been keeping secrets about her past."
"Why would she do that?"
"Protection, perhaps. For herself, for you." He leaned forward. "The black breath I observed in the Dredge refugees affected individuals with a specific genetic predisposition."
The implications hit me then. "You think my mother is... what? From Nytheris?"
"I don't know," Vic admitted. "But I do know that the condition affecting her is extremely rare in the Prime Realm. Almost unheard of, in fact. Yet it's documented in Nytherian medical texts."
My mind raced. "But she's been in the Prime Realm my whole life. If she had magic that needed expression, wouldn't I have seen signs?"
"Not necessarily. Some abilities manifest subtly, or only under specific circumstances." Vic's voice gentled. "And if she was deliberately hiding her nature, she would have learned to suppress those abilities, which could explain the progression of her illness."
I stood abruptly, needing to move. The workshop suddenly felt too small, too confining. "This is... I need to think."
"Of course." Vic rose as well. "I could be wrong. This is just a theory based on very limited information."
But we both knew he wasn't wrong. The pieces fit too well. My mother's mysterious past, her strange illness that baffled Prime Realm healers, her reluctance to discuss her family. And perhaps most telling: her complete lack of surprise when I'd first demonstrated my own rift abilities.
"I need to talk to my mother," I said, more to myself than to Vic.
"That might be difficult given our current location," he reminded me gently.
I paced the small workshop, my thoughts churning. "Could you send a message? Ask specific questions about her symptoms, her family history? Frame it as a medical necessity?"
"I can try." He hesitated. "But Juno, if I'm right, if your mother is indeed hiding a Nytherian heritage, there may be a reason for her secrecy. The Assembly's persecution of Nytherians didn't begin with the collapse. It's been ongoing for generations."
The implication was clear. My mother had been hiding not just from illness, but from those who might harm her for what she was. What we both might be.
"Send the message," I decided. "But be careful how you word it. I don't want to put her in more danger."
Vic nodded, already reaching for his communication equipment. "I'll prepare it immediately."
I turned to leave, needing space to process this revelation, but paused at the door. "Vic? Does Cypher know about your theory?"
His hesitation told me everything. "He... may have suspected something when I first mentioned your mother's condition."
Another piece of the puzzle clicked into place. If Cypher had known or suspected my mother might be Nytherian—might have passed that heritage to me—it would explain his interest, his careful manipulation to bring me into his orbit.
"Thank you for telling me the truth," I said quietly.
"I should have told you sooner," he admitted. "But with everything else happening..."
I nodded, understanding his reluctance to add more complications to an already tangled situation. "Let me know as soon as you hear anything from my mother."
As I left the workshop, my mind spun with possibilities, all of them insane. If my mother was indeed Nytherian, what did that make me? Half-Nytherian? Was that why my connection to the void was so strong? Why I could touch the First Dark when others couldn't?
And if she had been hiding this truth my entire life, what other secrets might she be keeping?
I made my way to the upper deck, needing fresh air to clear my head. Kora was there, drinking a mug of tea as she stared blankly toward the mountain in the distance. I stood beside her, and she immediately leaned her head to rest it on my shoulder.
"Did you ever wonder about my mother?" I asked. "About where she came from?"
Kora's brow furrowed as she looked up. "Not really. Why?"
I shook my head, not ready to share Vic's theory yet, even with her. "Just thinking about family. About secrets."
She leaned against the rail, her eyes on the frozen horizon. "My parents never talked much about their pasts either. I always figured it was because of the pain of something bad, you know? Some memories are better left buried."
But were they? Or did burying the past only ensure that its ghosts would eventually rise to haunt the present?
I closed my eyes, feeling the cool wind against my face. Somewhere out there, beyond the dead plains and frozen ocean, beyond the Gallery's shifting currents, my mother had the answers I'd never thought to seek. And somehow, I knew those answers would change everything.