CHAPTER TWENTY

The warmth drained from my body, leaving me speechless.

“Lena. You’re all right.” Father stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me, squeezing so tightly I could barely breathe.

My mind flooded with confusion. What—how—?

“What are you doing here?” I asked, feeling faint. “How did you even find me?”

I caught sight of Fallyne. My spine stiffened, and I pushed away from my father.

“You brought him here?” I said. Fallyne’s even gaze told me she had. “How do you even know him?” Suddenly everything she had said to me seemed suspect.

She glanced at my father. “Joren and I have known each other a long time. Your father stopped here a few days ago and asked me to watch out for you. When you arrived, I sent him a message.”

“How did you know who I was?”

Fallyne’s eyes softened. “You used your mother’s name, child. And there aren’t many girls matching your description who bear the Hand of Mora.”

“So everything you told me—was that just stalling to keep me here?”

“Don’t blame Fallyne,” Father cut in. “She was only doing as I asked.”

I backed away from him. My initial shock was giving way to anger as everything I had learned about him since entering the Silence came rushing back to me. “I want nothing to do with you.”

He looked past me at Miranda, and his jaw tightened. “I was wrong to treat you like a child in Onwey, I know. But please, Lena. Just talk to me.”

I stared up at him. Somehow since I’d seen him last, dark circles had appeared under his eyes. He looked haggard and gaunt—and old.

“All right,” I said quietly. “Let’s talk.”

I turned back to Miranda. She was hugging her arms to her stomach, looking as though she would rather be anywhere but here. “I’ll… I’ll be right back,” I said.

She nodded, but the uncertainty in her features sparked fresh anger within me. I fumed as I put on my cloak and I stepped into the hallway.

Father led the way out of Fallyne’s house to the side path bordering the garden.

Once we were alone, he turned to me. “We need to leave at once. It’s not safe here.”

My heart sank. Of course it was too much to think he would see that I had navigated the Silence successfully—that I was capable of taking care of myself. “No,” I said.

Father stilled. “No?”

“You heard me.” My hands clenched. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Lena, I know you’re angry, but there are things at play here that you don’t understand.”

“Oh really?” I crossed my arms. “Like the Hand of Mora? Like the fact that if Katen finds me, she’ll kill me to reclaim her magic?”

Father’s face was like stone.

“Tell me, Father,” I said, pressing on. “Do you really think you kept me safer by withholding this from me for the last seventeen years?”

He threw his hands up in mock outrage. “You want me to admit it? Fine. We lied to you.”

“You let me think I was a monster!” I cried.

He nodded. “You’re right. We did. Everything you want to accuse us of, we did. And I apologize for none of it, because that was what it took to keep you safe.”

I’d thought hearing him admit it would bring me relief, but I just felt cold rage. I waited for him to argue further so that I could say something that would cut him to the bone.

Instead, his shoulders slumped. “We struggled, your mother and I. We felt it was our fault, what happened to you. When that first boy died, you were so young. And then you were so destroyed the day your mother left… I was afraid of hurting you more.”

I bit my lip. I still felt the constant shadow of my mother’s absence. But… but when I tried to think back to what my father was talking about, the memory was gone. As though it had never happened.

He paused, his gaze intent on me.

“What?” I said.

“You were so shaken by that,” he said slowly. “For years. But something has changed.”

I raised my chin. “I’ve changed.”

He shook his head. “There’s something else.” He peered closer, searching my face. “What have you done?”

I felt at the corners of my memory, like a tongue probing the edge of a broken tooth. But there was nothing there. I tried to keep my expression impassive. “Does it matter?”

Father’s face darkened. “You lost it somehow. Traded or sold it. Oh, Lena…”

“Perhaps I’m better off without it.” I shrugged, thinking of the box in my cloak pocket.

“No. Oh no, Lena.” A strangled, sorrowful sound emerged from his throat. “That memory, as awful as it was—it was part of you. And this place—these creatures will take and take from you until there is nothing left. This is why I didn’t want you here. You’re meddling with things you don’t understand. You’re going to get hurt. Killed.”

“I was already hurt,” I countered. “And I was always destined to be killed. You tried to keep it from me, but I know now. I think in a way, I’ve always known. So you don’t get to tell me what I can or can’t do, not anymore. It was my memory to bargain with, and I don’t regret it.”

He stepped back, stricken.

“This was always going to happen, Father,” I continued. “We couldn’t have run from Katen forever. And what I wish is—” Something snapped within me, and I was surprised by the vehemence with which my fury poured out. “I wish you had prepared me for this. You could have told me the truth. You could have helped me stand against her. Anything. And instead you simply chose to run.”

“Yes, we ran,” he said. “Because there was no safer alternative. The Gather is deadly, yes. As are Katen and her father. But that is not the only danger here.”

“Then tell me,” I said.

A muscle worked in his jaw. “I swore to your mother I would not,” he said softly. “That I would never expose you to the darkness that took her.”

“What do you mean, took her?” I said.

Father only looked at me, and there was such immense sadness in his eyes. “I am your father. If you ever trusted me, trust me on this now.”

A memory flashed behind my eyes—a tall, almost skeletal man holding my hand, bundled up against the cold.

No—I blinked and the image shifted, hazed, flickered in and out.

A tall man holding my hand, bundled—my small hands mittened, though it wasn’t even near winter.

He holds my hand as we reach a stream and lifts me over the water as we cross.

My father had saved me. More times than I understood or remembered, he had saved me.

But he couldn’t save me from this. Worse, he hadn’t even truly tried.

“No,” I said. “I can’t.”

“Lena—”

“Go home!” I cried. “I don’t need you any longer. I don’t want you here.”

Before he could respond, I turned and tore down the path into Fallyne’s garden. My heart was racing, my body shaking. After everything, how could he still not be honest with me? I wanted to go back and scream at him until he told me what he had meant. But also, I couldn’t bear to look at him.

I ran to the trees that stood in the corner of the garden and leaned against one of them, trying to lose myself in its solidity. The air was frosty, a reminder that winter was coming. Tree branches splayed from the Silence over the garden walls, creating a patchwork canopy. I pulled my cloak closer around myself and looked up at the sky.

What if I had made a mistake? I’d run from my father, declaring that I could take care of myself. But more and more, I felt as though I was losing my footing.

I turned around and sank down to the ground. What should I do? I couldn’t trust my father—not after all the lies. Fallyne had said that in order to trust others, I had to trust myself. Of course, Fallyne had turned out to be just as deceitful as any of them. But still—I was afraid again.

I picked up a pebble and threw it, watching it skitter across the garden. What was I afraid of?

Death? Yes. But life was not worth living without freedom. I was not frightened to die in pursuit of it.

My thoughts turned back to the girl waiting for me upstairs. Heartbreak. The moment I thought it, I knew it to be true. I’d spent so long yearning to be able to touch, I’d forgotten that human connection was more than mere physical contact. Now, after what had passed between us, I realized that one word of rejection from Miranda might destroy me.

I tried to conjure up the feelings that had overwhelmed me only an hour ago. But my thoughts were still so unsettled. What if—no. I could not go on like this. I had to choose. And I chose her.

The thought brought a smile to my lips—a small one, but real. I got to my feet and brushed off my trousers, thinking of how she might greet me when I opened the door.

Something rustled in the distance, and my body tensed. I looked at the entrance to the garden. Was Father returning to argue with me again? I wasn’t surprised, though I wasn’t sure that there was anything I could do that would finally change his mind—or he mine.

There was another rustle—and then there was a crash, followed by a long, eerie howl. Wolves.

And Miranda was still inside.

I tugged the gloves from my hands and started forward—

STOP.

I hesitated. I had never heard the voice so strident. But I couldn’t stand by while Miranda was in danger. I started forward again.

Vines erupted from the ground, blocking my way. They reached up and twined around my wrists, yanking me back, away from the gate.

Let me go! I thought urgently.

No.

More vines wound around me, enclosing me so tightly that I could barely move. I struggled, and my breathing came faster. What if the vines somehow dragged me below the earth? I tried to lift my arm, but could barely even open my fist.

Be still. You are well hidden now.

The growl of a Wolf reached my ears, and I froze. I held my breath as prowling footsteps entered the garden. The footsteps stalked through the garden, then retreated.

Screams and crashes and the occasional howl came from the house. My jaw clenched in anger. My knees started to hurt, and my feet began to cramp from this unnatural position. I shuddered at the sounds of destruction and tried not to imagine what they might be doing to Miranda. She was all right. She had to be.

After what seemed like an eternity, the house quieted. On the other side of the garden wall I heard heavy footsteps, then all was silent again.

The vines recoiled, setting me free. I tore the stragglers off my arms and threw them aside. “If you ever do that to me again, I will end you. Make no mistake.”

The voice was silent at that. Good. Because I was furious, my body aching for a fight, and I was terrified of what I might find when I entered Fallyne’s house.

I put one of my gloves back on and held my other bare hand carefully at my side. Then I cautiously made my way toward the back door.

Inside, the house was in complete disarray. I skirted a few girls sweeping broken glass from the hallway and ran up the stairs. My heart pounding, I burst into Miranda’s room.

She wasn’t there. The room had been ransacked, the sheets twisted and the lamp smashed on the floor. No.

I backed out of the room and searched the house until I found Fallyne in her office. Books had been thrown to the floor, their pages ripped out. The smoky air suggested that someone had attempted to set them on fire.

“What happened? Where is Miranda?” I demanded.

Fallyne knelt on the floor and picked up a book, turning it over in her hands. “The Wolves have never troubled us before,” she murmured, almost to herself. “I was unprepared.”

“Miranda,” I said sharply. “Where is she?”

Fallyne finally looked up at me. “They took her.”

My chest tightened. The Wolves must have come to finish the job they’d started the night I met her.

“This is your fault,” I said, my voice strangled.

Fallyne got to her feet, eyeing me warily. “Lena. You know that’s not true.”

“I should have been there,” I spat back. “I could have protected her. If you hadn’t called my father, I could have…” Wait—what had happened to him? In my panic over Miranda, I hadn’t thought of him until now. “What about my father?” I asked.

“He left before the Wolves attacked,” Fallyne said. “Whatever you said to him seems to have driven him away.”

One shelf of books had gone undisturbed by the Wolves’ attack. Now it infuriated me. I reached out and grabbed a book from the shelf and threw it down—then another, and another.

“A tantrum solves nothing,” Fallyne said.

I paused and looked at her, allowing my fury to spill over my face. She was wrong. This inane act of destruction served one purpose, at least. It made me feel just the slightest bit better. And it made me want to destroy other things.

I stepped closer to Fallyne. “You had best hope that she is all right,” I said coldly.

Then I turned and walked away—out of the room, down the hall, out of the house.

It was well into the afternoon now. I looked up and down the path. The Wolves were nowhere to be seen. They had probably taken Miranda back to the Gather to face Shale. She might not live the night—

Or she might cut a deal.

The thought crossed my mind like a traitor. She had sworn she was on my side, that she was done with double crosses. But that was before she had been taken by the Wolves. Who knew what might happen now? She could tell them about me in exchange for her freedom, and then what?

I should run.

My mind cartwheeled forward. I couldn’t go back to the Mundane—I was never going back there. But on the other side of the Silence… there were better places than the Gather, I was certain. I could survive, now that I knew more about myself, and one day I might even enjoy my life—

But I’d already chosen people to trust. Alaric. And now Miranda.

What was my life worth, if I abandoned them?

Alaric would always be an unwilling servant.

And Miranda would probably be dead.

I exhaled, sorting through my options again. Alaric had never told me when he would return. Now I regretted mightily the fact that I had no way to contact him.

Except by using my curse, I realized. Then he could track me.

But if I used the curse, I would have to kill someone.

And in the meantime, Miranda was getting farther and farther away.

What should I do? How far should I go for the people I lov—

I wouldn’t think it. I didn’t even know what that meant, even after what I had shared with Alaric and Miranda.

I tried to refocus my racing thoughts. I assumed they’d take her to the palace. So all I had to do was sneak into the stronghold, find Miranda, and get out without being detected by Shale or Katen or, well… anyone. At least stealing a spelled box from a house of dragons and a water monster had prepared me for this moment.

Ah, who was I fooling? This was going to be a disaster.