Chapter 34
Thirty-Four
Awoman bursts through the doors, her long white hair a wild thicket, her eyes bloodshot and searching. When they meet mine, we both freeze. Recognition instantly calls to me as I take in her features, realisation dawning on me like someone’s thrown a bucket of icy water over my head.
She’s the woman from my dream.
I stay rooted to the spot, shock preventing me from being able to move.
The woman takes a few tentative steps forward before releasing the hold on her restraint and lurching for me, pulling me up into her arms and clutching me tightly.
I stand there, numb, my arms by my sides as she hugs me, my brain struggling to process what’s happening.
She finally releases me and holds me at arms length, ignoring the frustrated murmurs spreading throughout the elders behind us.
“I knew it. The second you stepped foot in Lunoreth, I could feel your magic calling to me,” she sniffs, tears falling freely down her face as she looks at me like I’m the most precious thing in the world. Her smile quickly fades though as she registers the unease that must be showing on my face.
“You—you don’t remember me?” she whispers, devastation spreading across her features.
“I’ve seen you before,” I admit. “In my dreams.”
I cringe as soon as the words leave my mouth. She’s going to think I’m insane.
But she straightens with a sniff, smiling through her tears. “Not dreams, darling girl. It is your gift. You have the sight—you can astral project, just like your mother. You’ve been calling for me in your sleep, and I’ve been trying to call back.”
No…that’s impossible, surely?
“I—I don’t understand–”
“It’s okay, darling, it’s not your fault. None of this is your fault,” she says, brushing my hair back from my face with shaking fingers. “I’m Amari. My sister was your mother.”
I inhale sharply.
This is officially too much for me to process.
“Amari, how dare you interrupt a meeting of the Elder Council!” Althea snaps, rising to her feet. “The child needs answers–”
“And you’re scaring her with them!” Amari snarls back.
I bristle instinctively. I want to argue, insist that I can handle myself and I don’t need to be coddled, especially from family members who weren’t even part of my life until thirty seconds ago. But the words die in my mouth, because the truth is, she’s right.
I am terrified.
My entire world has been turned upside down, everything I thought I knew has been a lie, and now I’ve been barraged with so much information at once, I can barely think straight, let alone argue.
My parents—or rather, the mortals I thought were my parents—died when I was fifteen, murdered in the street by some cutpurse who caught them unawares, and I’ve been protecting myself ever since.
I’ve made my own way in this world, and rebelled against anyone who’s tried to protect me, knowing I could do a perfectly fine job on my own.
But as I stand between all these people, completely overwhelmed, panic threatening to pull me under, I start to wonder if maybe a parental figure wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world after all.
Maybe, just this once, I can rely on someone else to look after me.
I inhale with a shudder, looking between the numerous faces in the room before my gaze meets with my apparent aunt’s. Her eyes are full of warmth and love, no hint of betrayal or ill intent.
Squaring my shoulders, I turn to Stryx’s mothers who are staring at us with concern. “Stop calling me a child. I’m a grown woman. And no one decides my fate, but me.”
Esmarie’s jaw tenses before she speaks, the words slow like she’s choosing what to say with great care. “Octavia, there is much still to discuss. You must stay here, for your own safety.”
I hesitate, curiosity still sparking in me despite my panic.
But I make my choice and wordlessly take Amari’s outstretched hand, not prepared to admit out loud that I need help, but accepting the silent offer nonetheless.
Stryx looks helplessly between her mothers and me, her expression full of uncertainty.
Amari holds her other hand out to Stryx, offering her the same as me despite her obvious contempt for my friend’s parents.
It’s a gesture that warms me to her instantly, a kindness I won’t easily forget.
Stryx shares a pointed look with Althea and the woman’s shoulders sag slightly as she nods dejectedly, the pair of them watching with clear concern as Stryx accepts the hand offered to her.
Relief washes over me in a wave. She’s remaining by my side, acknowledging my decision, and my heart bursts with love for her, though I can’t help the pang of guilt at forcing her hand like this.
Without another word, Amari leads us both out the door, and I spare a glance back at the elders, their unanimous expressions of concern making me feel uneasy as we retreat.
The walk back through the cavernous structure of trees feels a lot more tense than our entry.
Instead of a sea of awe-stricken stares, we are greeted with narrowed eyes and sharp whispers, their stares trailing our backs as Amari leads us back out into the forest. I share a confused side glance with Stryx while Amari stays suspiciously silent.
I watch her as she moves with unhurried grace through the glowing undergrowth, her pale hair rippling like spun moonlight in the dim light of the forest. She leads us on a trodden path round the river, into the thicker trees, and in the distance I start to hear the rush of a waterfall.
We finally emerge into another clearing, ahead of us the river widening into an enormous glittering lake, the stillness of it disturbed by the crashing of a waterfall so tall, the top of it seems to merge with the mists of the Veil.
We reach the far edge of the lake, approaching a small cabin that sits half-hidden in a curtain of vines, its porch jutting out over the water like a dock. Lanterns glow faintly along the railings, reflecting in the rippling surface below.
Amari pauses at the threshold, her hand brushing the carved doorframe as though in thought. “I don’t receive many visitors,” she murmurs. “Not anymore.”
I tilt my head, noticing how the magic that thrums through Lunoreth seems softer here, muted, like the forest itself is holding its breath.
“Why?” I ask quietly. “You’re my aunt. If I’m as famous as they claim, shouldn’t they respect you?”
A faint, bitter smile touches her lips.
“Respect, perhaps. Trust? No. Not since your mother died and you…vanished.” She gestures for us to follow her inside.
“The others remember what happened. They remember the prophecy—and the silence that followed. But they were never told why you were taken. Only that you were hidden from us, from everyone.”
My stomach twists. “They blame you?”
She shrugs, settling herself on a dilapidated rocking chair at the edge of the porch as the water laps beneath.
“Someone had to bear the weight of suspicion. Better me than your mother’s memory.
” She looks out over the lake, her glassy eyes reflecting the blue shimmer of the vines.
“I stayed here, away from the herd. Easier that way. The whispers fade when you stop giving them your ears.”
Stryx leans against one of the porch beams, her pointed ears flicking uneasily. “I still think we should’ve stayed to hear them out. The population may not know the truth, but the council does.”
“The council has its own interests and serves no one,” Amari snaps. Stryx bristles, her ears pressing tight against her head. “I don’t trust them and neither should you.”
“Remember who you are speaking to, Amari,” Stryx warns, her voice low.
Amari bows her head as she grits her teeth. “Apologies, Princess. I meant no offence. I only worry that if they get their way they’ll use Octavia, like her father did. That prophecy is nothing but trouble. Everyone interprets it differently, sometimes with catastrophic results.”
Wait a minute…Princess?
My eyes snap to Stryx’s and she withers slightly under my questioning gaze. “You’re a Princess?”
She nods sheepishly. “Both my mothers are High Shamans. To the Echofae that is the equivalent of royalty. They govern Lunoreth equally. I didn’t tell you because…” She shrugs, worry flickering through her features. “I didn’t want to be treated differently.”
I stare at her in disbelief. “You were an illegal Echofae in mortal territory, there was no way you wouldn’t have been treated differently, regardless of your lineage.”
She gives me a lopsided smile. “Yes, it sounds stupid now I say it out loud.”
I crack a smile, the first one I’ve managed since the world was pulled out from under my feet, and Stryx’s smile widens in response. “I’ll go make us some tea, give you two some time to catch up.”
She wanders inside, leaving me standing awkwardly in the middle of the porch in front of my estranged aunt. It’s so bizarre, standing here in front of the woman who has plagued my dreams for so long. A part of me still refuses to believe she’s real.
Amari taps the chair next to hers and I sit, my gaze wondering over the expanse of the lake as I desperately urge my brain to start thinking logically about my potentially dire situation.
I feel her eyes on me and I finally turn to face her.
She gives me a warm, encouraging smile, placing her hand over mine.
“It’s a lot to take in, isn't it?”
“That’s putting it mildly,” I scoff, and we both huff a laugh. Before we can speak further, though, we are interrupted by what sounds like a muffled argument from inside the cabin. I can hear Stryx, but there’s also a male voice, one I faintly recognise within the deep recesses of my mind.
There’s someone else here?
Amari rolls her eyes, clearly unsurprised by the commotion, and I turn my head to the door, straining to hear.
“You know, not everything has to be an argument,” the man says, a hint of amusement in his voice.
“Go rot in the Voyd, Osiris,” Stryx moans.
“And leave you here all alone without the pleasure of my charm?”