“I’LL ADMIT, YOU LOOK LIKE THE woman I knew as my grandmother,” I said shakily. “However, there’s one problem. My mother’s mother was a queen, and I’ve been told she died long ago.”
Lucina nodded. “We needed a way for me to be part of your life, something the people in your village would accept. Your mother was the one who decided to tell you I was your grandmother.”
“Why?” None of this made sense.
“Because I needed to watch over you. To teach you. In a way, you were like my granddaughter. I have always loved you as if you were of my own blood.” I was shocked to notice a sheen of moisture in her golden eyes. “In fact, some of my blood runs in your veins.” She smiled. “Though not in the usual way.”
Her words jumbled together, tangling in my mind. I could only focus on the familiar color of her eyes. Eyes like mine.
“I always thought I inherited my eye color from you. From my grandmother, I mean. My mother’s eyes were brown.”
“Your eyes were brown, too, when I first held you as a babe.”
That made no sense at all, so I just shook my head.
The Minax sensed my distress and confusion. She’s a threat, it whispered. Dangerous.
“You’re a stranger to me,” I said.
“Just because I’m not exactly who you thought doesn’t make me a stranger.” She took a step toward me.
The Minax reared up in fear. With more calm than I felt, I held up my palm to ward her off.
Part of me regretted the flash of hurt that crossed her features.
“You know me, Ruby. I taught you how to use your fire. Remember?”
“You gave me a few lessons, and then you left. Mother told me you died on a voyage.”
“I had no choice but to leave you.”
I didn’t accept her remorse. “We made a headstone for you and placed it in the woods, the clearing where you used to rest when we were gathering herbs. I went there every week to pray for your spirit.” I jerked a hand toward her. “And now, here you are.”
“You’re angry that I left you. I assure you, I didn’t want to.”
“It’s not just that. I can’t trust you. I don’t know who you are.”
She swallowed. “Then I will tell you, and you will learn to trust me again. My name is Lucina, though that name has been lost in history.” She paused, watching me intently. “You know me better as Sage.”
A laugh burst out, with an edge of hysteria. My eyes grew wet, tears of disbelief at the absurdity of it all. “First you’re my grandmother—though not really—and now you’re Sage. Make up your mind, would you?”
“I’m the same person I always was, Ruby. You know me. You just didn’t know my true name.”
In my mind, I ran through my visions of Sage, with golden skin and hair, her face unlined.
“You don’t look like Sage,” I said, still skeptical. “She’s younger and… shinier. Like she’s covered in gold dust.”
“I am different in your visions. I come to you through the sunlight, a bridge between the mortal world and the afterworld. What you see is a projection of my spirit. My mind works differently in that in-between place, and so my messages to you have been rather… brief. There is much I am not allowed to tell you.”
“I’ve had my share of unhelpful visions lately.”
So many thoughts and questions crowded my mind. Pieces coming together. I had asked Cirrus how to find Sage, and she had shown me a vision—of Sage. I’d been so focused on Marella, I’d hardly noticed her cellmate. When Cirrus had said, “Help her,” she had sounded as if she cared, as if she was worried about the woman in the vision. Would she have cared that much about Marella?
I didn’t think so.
But Sage, on the other hand—Lucina—had saved the goddess’s life when she fell to earth. They had a bond. Cirrus couldn’t interfere in the mortal realm anymore, but she could ask someone like me to work on her behalf.
The more I thought about it, the more it made sense.
Still, my instincts warned me not to trust this woman. Maybe she would reveal something that would help me decide either way.
“What do you know about the Gate?” I asked, deliberately vague.
“What do you want to know?”
“Anything.”
She chuckled. “The Gate of Light was created by Cirrus, and it is the only thing standing between us and the hordes of Minax trapped in the Obscurum. If you think to test me, you should pick more difficult questions.”
“Cirrus showed me a vision of Marella in the cell,” I said, leaving out the fact that I’d seen her, too. “We think she can lead us to the Gate.”
Lucina looked down at the sleeping figure with sympathy. “Marella does not know where the Isle of Night is. Taking her was merely a whim for Eurus, and he quickly tired of toying with her.” She met my eyes. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if he meant to use her against you somehow.”
I poured out heat to ward off a chill. “You seem to know a great deal about how Eurus thinks. Maybe you’re working for him.”
She laughed. A real, hearty laugh that made her lose her breath. “Oh, child, how you amuse me. No. Long have I studied him, and I have my own visions that tell me things.”
“How did you end up as his prisoner?”
“His Servants have been searching for me for a long time, even before his return to the mortal realm. For many years, I have been the only thing standing between this world and the Obscurum. I have spent that time sailing the waters near the Isle of Night, creating illusions to keep it hidden. Periodically, I use my gift of sunlight to repair the Gate.”
The Minax reared up at the mention of her gift, sending prickles of revulsion over my skin. Lucina watched my reaction with keen eyes.
“Continue,” I said abruptly, not liking her attention. “I’m listening.”
“A few weeks ago, the Servants finally found me. My ships fought theirs, but there were too many—so many more than I had ever seen before. When I was captured, I despaired, thinking it was the end, that my goddess had forsaken me. I should have had more faith. Now that I am here with you, I think that this was all part of Cirrus’s plan.”
“Ships? You have more than one?”
“Had. The Servants sank one and stole the other two. I sailed the Golden Dawn, and my other two ships were Fleeting Night and West Wind’s Chance. For years, we’ve patrolled the area near the Isle of Night. We call ourselves the Order of Cirrus—small in number, but mighty in will.”
It was so much to take in. I hardly knew what to ask. The Minax was sending out pings of warning, urging me to leave. My gaze shifted to Marella. She slept peacefully, her wheat-gold hair spread over the white pillow. “Did you tell Marella all this?”
“I saw no reason to. Her need was for a sympathetic ear and healing light. She confessed that she had betrayed her friends by bringing the Minax to Sudesia. I listened and comforted her.”
“How touching,” I said bitterly. If it weren’t for Marella, the two Minax wouldn’t have been able to create a portal for Eurus to enter the mortal realm. He wouldn’t now be on his way to the Gate.
“I hope you can forgive her, Ruby. She is merely a victim in Eurus’s game. Like so many before her.”
“She’s not as innocent as you think.”
“She has light in her. She merely chose the night for too long.”
I shook my head, not ready to think of all this. “I have to get back to Arcus.”
After the shock of all these revelations, I longed to sit in his comforting presence, even if he was asleep.
“You love him, don’t you?” she asked softly.
My eyes snapped to hers. No one had ever asked me that. She was a stranger, and now she wanted to know the secrets of my heart?
“You go too far,” I warned.
Danger. Threat. The Minax writhed inside me. Silence her.
I looked down at my clenched hands. My veins had darkened to the color of dried blood. Catching Lucina’s look, I folded my arms, hiding my hands.
“Ruby?” Her head tilted, and her white brows drew together. “Ruby, look at me.”
No. Don’t listen to her.
“Ruby,” she said more urgently. “Please let me see your wrist.” She reached out a hand.
“Stay away!” I warned, baring my teeth.
She faltered, her eyes fixing on me in startled confusion, which quickly changed into understanding. Instead of moving away, she inched closer. “What a fool I’ve been. My gift is weak from my time in the cell, or I would have known right away. Even now, you carry the Minax.”
I stepped backward, suddenly desperate to get away from her.
With a speed that surprised me, she lunged at me with an outstretched hand.
“No!” I reared back, but my escape was blocked by the closed door.
As her fingers touched mine, white-hot pain lanced into my veins. My muscles knotted, my breath leaving my lungs in a sudden burst. The world became a haze.
The Minax writhed in shared agony. Pain was my marrow.
My body jerked as if lightning ran through me, dislodging her hand. When my vision cleared, I found that I was crouched against the door. Lucina stood looking down on me, her red-veined hand covering her mouth. She finally stepped back.
“It is worse than I thought,” she whispered.
I pushed up on unsteady legs and threw open the door, pausing only to say in a low, warning tone, “If you ever touch me again, I will break you.”