Alone for the first time in she couldn’t guess how many hours, Alys stepped into her bedroom, still fully clothed. Honor had tried to coax her into undressing for bed, but Alys knew her head would touch no pillow tonight.
Her whole body ached, and though she’d long ago wrenched every drop of moisture from her eyes, they burned fiercely as if another round of tears would soon arrive. She paced the room, ignoring the array of teas and calming potions that had been pressed on her by what felt like every inhabitant of Women’s Well. It was good that Corlin had been persuaded to drink, but she had no desire to escape the pain it was her duty as a mother to endure. She would pace the contours of this room until she collapsed.
Passing by her bedside table, she caught sight of her mother’s spell book. She rarely referenced it anymore, although when she did she often found new lessons waiting for her. She could not deny that the lessons were useful, that Brynna’s extraordinary power made her instructions more complex and nuanced than anything Alys could learn from the other abigails. However, the book was heavily weighted toward the elements produced by Aaltah’s Well, and it made only passing references to masculine elements. She had found it much less useful since she’d arrived in Women’s Well, where so much of the magic was new and unknown.
Something about the appearance of the book made her stop walking, made her eyes focus when they’d been mercifully glazed. She picked it up and stared at the cover. The cover that had always before displayed the lurid title of a book of love poems.
Today, it had a new title.
Forgive Me.
Alys stared at the words with uncomprehending eyes. Then she thought of all her mother had told her when they had last spoken on the day of the earthquake. Remembered the sorrow and the apologies and the warnings. Remembered that her mother had been as gifted a seer as she had been a crafter. Remembered that the book had been specifically designed for her own use and not Jinnell’s.
“You knew,” she whispered at the book.
Her mother had claimed not to be able to see the future of those she loved. But that had been just one more of the many lies that had shaped the last months.
Brynna had known this victory was coming—and that it would cost Jinnell’s life.
Enjoying a blissful moment of feeling nothing at all, Alys crossed to the small fire that warmed the chill of the desert night. She threw the book in the flames and watched the pages curl.