Chapter 15
The O’Hara house feels daunting as we stand at the door. I’m not sure how long we stay there, but Tiernan’s hand on my upper back keeps my mind from spiraling to the worst-case scenarios. I heave a sigh and rap on the door a few times. Alys opens the door with a tentative smile on her lips.
As soon as we step into the warmth of the O’Hara’s home, the scent of spices wraps around me. For once, it isn’t quite so comforting. Neither Ava nor Dayfyd are in sight. “Make yourself at home,” Alys signs.
At home is the last feeling I have right now, but I thank her and sit down on the couch opposite the seat Alys takes. Tiernan sits beside me.
There’s unease in Alys’s grey eyes as she regards me. “Sweetling … There is a lot I should’ve told you, but I hope you’ll understand I withheld information to protect you.”
Already, heat sinks into my gut—the tiniest indicator of anger. More information was withheld from me. I thought we were past the secrets.
Alys continues. “When I first met you in the brig, I thought there was something familiar in your eyes, in your features. But I wasn’t sure.
The last time I saw you, you were but a fresh babe.
I intended to appeal to Carys and Iywan—to have you released from the brig and your botany knowledge put to use in the royal infirmary.
But Carys beat me to it when she recruited you as her dressmaker. ” She smiles.
What is she talking about?
I glance sidelong at Tiernan, who looks equally perplexed.
Alys’s lips part again, but I catch a glimpse of Dayfyd and Ava appearing in my periphery.
A muscle feathers in Dayfyd’s jaw, his eyes wary.
Ava’s lips are firmly pressed together, her hands in the pockets of her loose trousers.
While Dayfyd sits on the arm of the chair beside his wife, Ava stands off to the side near the hearth and leans against the brick wall.
Alys continues speaking. “Back in Paramount, Tiernan came to me when he realized you had shadow magic. That was the first clue that my suspicions may have been more than a coincidence. But as we fled, so much was at stake, including the mystery of your developing powers.
“The combination of your dreamwalking, shadow wielding, and the hint of puppet mastery was the final piece of the puzzle. The glaringly obvious hint that you were, in fact, Basduun.” She glances at Dayfyd then back to me.
“I became more and more certain. But I wanted Dayfyd to meet you first. And when we arrived here, you were just settling in. I didn’t want to flip your world upside down all over again.
We wanted to wait for the right moment. We didn’t even tell Ava out of fear she’d let it slip. But she figured it out.”
I press my lips together to keep from asking her what on Lierwen’s earth she’s talking about. My fingers bunch in my skirt just to give my hands something to do. I breathe out slowly. “Apologies,” I say. “I’m not following.”
Alys looks to Dayfyd, who puts his hand on her shoulder. He swallows a couple of times, as if his mouth has gone too dry to speak. “Before Morwenna was queen of Erleya, we were in love.”
I blink at him.
“We were young and foolish, and with Morwenna betrothed to the newly appointed king and even expected to be a stepmother to Prince Aneirin, we should’ve been more responsible.
But before we knew it, she was with child.
She managed to hide the pregnancy until the last couple of months, which was when we journeyed to Bayenbar to stay with my family.
The babe was born, healthy and so beautiful, with Morwenna’s brown eyes.
Still, Morwenna insisted that the infant looked just like me.
” He smiles but sadness clouds his features.
“With Morwenna’s impending marriage to the king, we needed to get her back to Paramount.
We knew the baby wouldn’t be safe in the palace, especially with the possibility of inherited powers.
We also knew that once Morwenna was coronated, we could no longer risk even being seen together.
So, her closest friend volunteered to take the child and raise her as her own.
Her friend was called Enya Griogair. Later known as Enya Garrick. ”
My body goes rigid. The realization hits me so hard that, for a moment, I forget how to breathe. I stare at Dayfyd. “What are you saying?” I ask, because there’s no way that the conclusion I’ve drawn is correct.
Dayfyd swallows hard. “Durvla, you’re my daughter. And the daughter of the late queen.”
I burst out laughing, unsure of how else to react. Hendwr and Enya Garrick are the only parents I’ve ever known. Now this man is saying he’s my true father, and the mother who raised me was not the woman who gave birth to me?
I glance at Ava, but her austere expression tells me this is not some joke.
When I turn back to Dayfyd, I truly look at him for the first time.
How have I never realized that we share the same straight nose and full lips, the same dark curly hair that appears black indoors but brown in the sunlight?
His eyes may be a different color, but hold the same oval shape.
I glance between him and Tiernan, who is clearly at a loss for words.
Tiernan places a hand on my knee, giving it a squeeze.
I swallow the lump in my throat and shift my gaze from Tiernan’s hand to Dayfyd’s ashen face.
“I’ve kept Morwenna’s secret from everyone except Elviera. Not only was Morwenna a Basduun, but her bloodline carries the curse of Enidwen.”
“The what?” Tiernan and I ask at the same time.
Dayfyd looks to his wife, as if seeking her help.
Alys rubs the bridge of her nose and closes her eyes as if praying for patience.
When she opens them again, she seems more composed.
“When Enidwen summoned the Underling Prince centuries ago, the story didn’t end with her being banished,” she signs.
“Her soul was preserved within one of the Heirs. Priests and scholars theorized that Enidwen’s tainted spirit has been dormant in the bloodline for years, just waiting for the right heir to come into her power.
The daughter of Agryna and Ehlach. What’s fascinating is that the bloodline of Agryna is not tied to Morwenna, but to the late King Rhodri.
Mor’s powers were of Ehlach. Her dreamwalking, shadows, and foresight were stronger at night.
And in moonlight. She’s the reason why Dayfyd has had that moonstone. ”
“It was a parting gift,” he said by some twisted way of explanation.
I rub my temples, my head starting to ache from the sheer enormity of this new knowledge. Heavy tension fills the room, and no one speaks for a while.
Alys adjusts the scarf tied around her pile of salt-and-pepper hair and nervously wrings her hands as she seems to mull over the right words to speak. “What are your thoughts?” she asks at last.
“My thoughts …” I can feel my voice shaking.
I shift my gaze between the man who looks like me and the woman who kept his secret.
A prickling chill spreads through my limbs.
I take a deep breath and lock away the shadows that threaten to burst from my hands.
I command them; they do not command me, I tell myself.
The tingling in my limbs subsides, but heat flushes through my body.
“Enya Garrick was my mother,” I say, tears filling my eyes. “Not Morwenna. And Hendwr was my father. Not you.” I launch the last word at Dayfyd then jump to my feet and run toward the door.
The cool air against my face is a shock, but not enough to loosen the tightness in my chest or stop the tears from escaping. Alys knew. All this time, she knew. Or she at least suspected it and never told me. As if the hurt of Osheen’s betrayal wasn’t enough.
I’m two houses down, when someone skids to a stop in front of me.
I jump. For a moment, I would have expected it to be Tiernan, but it’s Ava.
I hold up my hand, intending to threaten her with a display of shadows, but nothing happens.
There’s an odd stillness in my body that strangely reminds me of when I put on my dampener again for the first time after weeks in the castle.
I step back from Ava, bewildered, and my back collides with a solid mass. Tiernan.
Unsure of what to say, I swipe the tears off my cheeks and put on my bravest expression. Even as I feel one breath away from crumbling.
“Keeping that information from you was wrong,” Ava signs.
Tiernan stands off to the side between us. “Now’s not the time, Ava,” he says.
“Let her decide that.” Ava’s glower is cold.
“I want to know what she has to say,” I sign. I don’t bother opening my mouth to speak and let my hands do all the talking.
Ava nods and continues. “No one told me the truth about you. I figured it out on my own.”
My brows lift. “Which part?”
“All of it. I remember overhearing my parents’ conversations about the queen when I was just a child. I knew she was a Basduun—which is unheard of nowadays. So, when another Basduun showed up in the Verge, looking an awful lot like my father …”
“How did you know I was Basduun? Did your parents tell you?”
She shrugs and the corner of her lips curve up in half a smile. “I can sense it. Just as the fanatic apparently can.”
Still frowning, I turn to Tiernan. As a Mimic, he would’ve sensed if she had powers, wouldn’t he? “You knew?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I had a feeling she wasn’t entirely Ordinary, but I assumed it was just dormant Mage blood running through her because of Alys’s powers. Since …” He quirks a brow. “I didn’t sense any Wielding capabilities. What are your powers?”
Ava deadpans. “It’s personal.”
My temples throb even more. I start to walk again, but Ava sets herself firmly in my path.
“There are two groups searching for you. Which means that your presence here puts the Verge at risk.”
“Ava!” Tiernan exclaims.
Ava pays him no mind. “The word from Outside is that the Purists are like bloodhounds. They will find you.”
My stomach clenches.
“I’m not saying you need to flee the Verge just for the hells of it. I’m saying that you should try to get information from the fanatic. If you want answers, that is. She might be barking mad, but she’s not afraid to hurt your feelings. She wants you dead, and I’m certain she’d tell you why.”
I flinch unwittingly.
“If you want answers, go talk to the Purist.”
I draw in a breath to ask her exactly what she means, but she turns and walks back toward her home.
I don’t realize I’m trembling until Tiernan places a hand on my back. I recoil, and he lets his hand drop. “I just wanted to ask you if you want to go home.”
I wipe more tears from my eyes. “No,” I say. “I want to talk to the Purist.”
He looks taken aback, but he pulls in a deep breath, his chest expanding. “Do you feel ready to face that woman? If you’re even allowed?”
My teeth worry at the corner of my lip for a moment. He’s not wrong. Right now, I feel like throwing shadows at people, like screaming, like crying. Dayfyd is my father. The queen is—was—my mother. The fanatic called me the lost heir.
But I need to know more. “Tiernan, I have to talk to her. I can’t … not know the truth,” I sign. “I’ve lingered in ignorance for too long.”
He rubs the back of his neck and shifts on his feet, clearly uncomfortable with me facing the Purist. “Alright,” he says.
“Your choice. If you want to face her, I’ll support you.
But you’ve just been hit with a lot of shocking information.
It might be best if you go in there with a clearer head.
Allow yourself to process everything first. Sleep on it? ”
My lips part to let another protest through, but Tiernan gently places a hand on my shoulder and signs one-handed for a couple of words.
“I know this is bothering you. I understand, truly. What if we go there first thing in the morning?”
I heave a sigh and nod. “Alright. First thing in the morning.”