Another Story

While Thisbe, Fifer, and Dev bided their time in Ashguard’s palace, the Grimere group gathered again in the dining room in Artimé’s mansion, joined by Henry and Thatcher and their family. Rohan had been thinking about Asha’s revelation about how she and Reza both had an image similar to Rohan’s flashing through their minds. He’d meant to call everyone together so they could describe their images and talk through them, but he hadn’t had a chance before now. With all of them together tonight, he brought up the idea.

They’d all been thinking similarly and were eager to discuss it. Asha began, briefly describing the image that a number of them had seen of Nadia being forced onto the ship. She went on to describe an image of an old gray-haired man with a beard, whom she declared to be Ashguard the curmudgeon. She was one of the few who knew for a fact that Ashguard was her grandfather.

“How do you know so certainly?” Rohan asked her.

“Because my mother told me so. She was Ashguard’s daughter.”

“And… you remember your mother well?” asked Prindi, leaning forward. Like many of the others, she had no memory of her parents, so it was fascinating to hear from someone who did.

“I was seven when the Revinir bought me at auction,” said Asha. “I remember my mother well. She was in the crowd, at the back. My father had already been killed. She was in danger.”

“Was it your mother who sold you?” asked Reza, incredulous.

“No, of course not,” said Asha. “I was free for my early years—no one knew about me. We lived in hiding near the foothills that separate Ashguard’s village and property from the cavelands, though we visited him sometimes at the palace when it was safe. One day, dragon hunters strayed off their path when I was collecting sticks for the fire. They startled me and noticed my eyes. They came at me, and I barely had a chance to scream. My father came running and attacked them. And then… they killed him.”

“Oh, Asha,” Clementi murmured. “That must have been horrible.”

Asha didn’t answer at first and kept her head down. “We have all seen a lot of things we wish we hadn’t.” Then she lifted her chin, glanced at her new friend, and tried to smile. “It has been years. I don’t dwell on it. It’s too hard.” She reached out her hand and took Clementi’s. “It’s better to think on what can be done, rather than what can’t.”

Clementi nodded. “And your mother?”

“I assume she’s dead too.”

Maiven Taveer looked up. “In the image you see of Nadia’s capture—was it your mother at the scene?” The memory of that scene was burned into her mind. Watching her daughter’s friends being forced to do something horrible hurt Maiven, too—she knew they would never get over it.

“Yes. My father didn’t have black eyes.” She paused. “They killed him anyway to keep him from coming after me.”

“Asha,” said Maiven, leaning forward, “I believe I know who your mother was. We called her Adhi—was that her name? Adhira? Ashguard’s second daughter?”

Asha stared at Maiven. “Yes,” she whispered. “You knew her?”

Maiven smiled warmly. “What a charming girl. She spent nights at the castle. She and Nadia were very good friends from the time they were barely able to walk.” She hesitated, seeing Asha’s face. “That image in your mind—that was the last time I saw Adhi. The usurpers captured me soon after and threw me into the dungeon. I am glad to hear she survived long enough to find love and have you. Though I am so sorry for the life you were forced to live.”

Asha smiled. “It makes me so happy that you knew her, Queen Maiven,” she said. “And that you thought she was a good person.”

“Did you…,” Maiven began, then seemed to think the better of it. She shook her head. “Never mind.”

Asha gazed at the queen. “You may ask me anything. I don’t mind. What were you about to say?”

“I wondered if you had any… siblings?”

Asha sat back. Her face turned gray. “I…”

“Oh dear,” Maiven fretted. “I shouldn’t have asked! My humblest apologies. Please forgive me.”

“No,” said Asha. “It’s all right. If you had asked me before I took the ancestor broth, I would have said no.”

Clementi narrowed her eyes. “So you’ve seen another image? One you haven’t mentioned?”

Asha shifted. “I… Yes. There is one more image. It’s… confusing.” She brought her hand to her mouth, fingers trembling, and went silent.

Rohan’s face filled with concern. “You don’t have to talk anymore if you don’t want to,” he said. “No one among us from this point forward will be forced to do anything against their will ever again.” He said it almost angrily, defying everything he and the others had experienced for most of their lives.

Clementi, who still held Asha’s hand, gave it a gentle squeeze. “Shall we take a walk? Get an orange cream or a cup of tea? Or some fresh air?”

Asha nodded. “I’m sorry, everyone,” she whispered. “I thought I was fine until I started talking. And then I realized just how ill we all must be after what we’ve been through.” She looked at Henry. “If only there were a doctor who could fix this kind of pain.”

Henry, who’d witnessed his own mother’s death when he was ten, agreed. “If only,” he said, his eyes misting over. “Perhaps we could all use a break.”