CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Become your own master.

Bow not to another.

You are a proficient bearer of

your own destiny.

—THE HARMONY OF BEING

Murmur’s voice droned in Kyara’s head as he gave instructions on ways to tweak her performance. She was having a hard time focusing, since the Breath Father’s words from the day before were still reverberating inside her skull. The vision he’d showed her replayed in her mind over and over again, destroying her ability to concentrate.

Ahlini’s smiling face, the ulla’s stricken one, the kindness of the guard. Why hadn’t she remembered any of that before? Why were only the worst things etched forever in her memory—the pain and trauma, the abuse, the killing?

She made a promise to herself to hold close the positive experiences she’d had and try and use them to overwhelm all of the suffering. An intense longing for Darvyn swelled and she had that to wade through as well in order to get back to the present moment.

Tana’s squeal of delight brought her back. Kyara blinked the haze away from her eyes to witness the girl’s triumph. She had moved on from attacking static trees to hitting moving targets. Smoky creatures, similar to the wraith spirits, flew in swirls and spirals at the other end of the cavern. Tana’s dragon avatar breathed purple fire into the mass of writhing forms, singeing them into nonexistence.

When all her targets were gone, the dragon retreated and the girl clapped her hands. True joy shone on her face and it nearly brought a tear to Kyara’s eye. Tana deserved her happiness, and her growing skill was impressive.

Every evening, they would return aboveground to Darvyn’s camp where he would be helping Ulani master her Song. The little puppy Fenix had manifested from pure Earthsong was still there. Ulani had named him Raven. The girls would chatter and play while the adults looked on. Watching the children both warmed Kyara’s heart and saddened her.

There would be no children in her and Darvyn’s future—at least not ones with his smile. All of the ul-nedrim and ol-nedrim, the harem-born children of the True Father, were sterile. She’d never thought much about it before gaining her freedom, and tried not to focus on it now as there was nothing she could do. Part of her was glad that the True Father’s vile seed could not be spread any further. And though the moniker the king had appropriated belied it, Kyara never had a father, had never really missed one. That Darvyn may not get the chance to be one was the most distressing.

Still, there were plenty of orphans like Ulani and Tana who needed loving homes. And maybe that was the better choice anyway, to offer a home to a child already alive as opposed to bringing a new one into the cruel world.

Her mind was wandering again, flitting back and forth between these thoughts of a future that might never be and a past that she was only now beginning to truly understand. Of course, if she couldn’t get any further in her training, then the future would be short indeed. Much better to stay focused on the present. And in the present, she was trailing far behind Tana.

In fact, she was on the remedial track, still working on targeting the center tree and leaving the rest untouched. She breathed deeply and her avatar kitten appeared, then morphed into its powerful wildcat form. The leonine figure paced in front of her before she directed it outward. It shot forward and was back in a fraction of a second. This time the center three trees were blackened and crumbling, but the two on the end were intact.

“Better,” Murmur said coming up beside her.

“But still slow and inaccurate,” Mooriah added. “You must try harder.”

Kyara grit her teeth. “I am trying.”

“Harder is what I said.”

Kyara bit back her retort and calmed herself. The targets were reset and she did the drill again. And again. With each attempt, she made incremental progress that buoyed her with hope. But Mooriah was strung tight as a bow and ready to snap.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Kyara was able to target only the center tree. A smile graced her face though she did truly feel like celebrating. “I don’t understand why this is so difficult. I’ve been able to control my aim before.”

“With the use of external sources of Nethersong or in emergency situations when you weren’t thinking about it so hard,” Murmur said. “You must be able to do it on your own and your mind is what is currently getting in the way.”

“Her stubbornness, more like,” Mooriah grumbled.

The thin strand of control that Kyara had kept over her temper around the woman so far snapped and she whirled to face her. “What exactly is your problem? I just completed the test.”

“And you want some sort of award for taking two days to do what that child did in an hour? This isn’t a leisurely vacation we’re on. You’ve already wasted enough time staring at the ocean when you could have been training.”

Kyara took a step closer, seething. “So I was supposed to trust a five-hundred year old woman who wanted to drag me back to the place where they tried to kill the man I love? I’m here now, and I’m doing my best.”

“You’re here and if this is your best then we’re all doomed.” Mooriah’s face was blank as slate and Kyara wanted to smack her. She nearly did but Murmur placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. His touch was barely substantial but did its job in staying her hand. However, anger still bubbled inside her.

“I. Am. Trying.”

Mooriah leaned in until they were nearly nose to nose. “Try. Harder.” She took a step back and spread her arms out. “We must defeat the True Father, the three of us. A dead woman, a child, and the Poison Flame. We must be at full capacity or he will win.”

A hint of vulnerability cracked her stony exterior. That was what cooled the rage beneath Kyara’s skin. “What did he take from you? I thought you grew up here, protected from him?”

Mooriah’s shoulders sank, causing her to deflate a bit. “He killed my father. My mother, too, I suppose you could say. Made me an orphan.”

Kyara swallowed. “I didn’t realize.” She dropped her head. “I’m ashamed to share his blood. So please trust that I will work as hard as I can to see him defeated.”

“Share his blood?” Mooriah frowned.

“I was born in the harem. He sires sons almost exclusively, but there are a few of us daughters around.”

The woman shook her head. “You are not his daughter.”

Kyara froze. “What makes you say that?”

She snorted. “Because I have kept track of my descendants. My children lived in the mountain for a time, several generations in fact. But I’d always wanted them to live outside. Eventually, they left the Mother for life in Lagrimar. They adopted my father’s house, that of the Mistress of Eagles, and became Sarifors.

“The True Father is not your father, Kyara. Your mother fell in love with a soldier who died before you were born. When she was taken to the harems, she was already pregnant with you. You are one of mine. You were never his.”

Kyara stumbled backward. The shock was so great that it tore her away from the spirit realm of the heart of the Mother back into her body seated in front of the fire in the small cave. The bodies of Tana, Mooriah, and Murmur were around her, still in their trances.

Kyara stood on wobbly legs and left the cave. Across the chasm, Ella was cooking something over a fire. She looked up when Kyara emerged, but if she said something, Kyara couldn’t hear her for the rushing in her ears.

Her whole life—she had to reimagine the way she looked at her whole life. Everything she’d ever thought about herself was different now. She wasn’t ul-nedrim at all, she was of the House of Eagles. The Mistress of Eagles with her prophetic knowledge and perceptiveness was her lineage. She was actually related to Mooriah. The thought made a shiver go down her spine.

She leaned back against a wall and closed her eyes, trying to picture herself amidst this new reality. She felt Mooriah’s presence, but the woman stood next to her quietly.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Kyara breathed.

Mooriah sighed. “I honestly did not think that you would want to know. From the moment I arrived you have been … prickly.”

“I’m an orphan. Family is … a dream come true.” She opened her eyes to find Mooriah sorrowful, gaze heavy.

“Then I apologize. It was wrong of me not to tell you.”

They stood together in silence for a while as Kyara got used to the feel of the new ground beneath her feet.

Finally, she sucked in a breath and pushed off the wall. “All right, I’m ready to go back. I have a lot of work to do. But later … I have questions.”

Mooriah smiled sadly. “Of course. I’ll do my best to answer them.”

“Thank you.”

“And Kyara?”

She turned, brows raised.

“I am proud that you’re mine. I am hard on you, which is my way, but know this, if we must be only three, and I could have chosen who to stand with, I would have chosen you.”

A lump formed in Kyara’s throat. She stared at Mooriah, mouth agape, before retreating into the steamy heat of the cave. She sat before the fire, covering her face, trying in vain to hold back the tears.