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“Correct,” Mother sneered. “I suppose your princes told you that?”

I flattened my lips. They were kings now, not princes, but it didn’t seem worth correcting her. “Yes. Did you know that Gancanagh is Bael’s father?”

She scowled. “I hardly cared to learn more than passing gossip about the royal family. The Everlasts do not matter to me, nor do they have anything to do with this story.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from speaking the retort I longed to throw at her. The Everlasts had everything to do with this story. Their family history was as twisted up in this as mine was.

“Gancanagh told me that he knew where the heir was.”

“The heir?” I asked, confused.

Mother narrowed her eyes, seeming annoyed that I didn’t understand. “Aisling's child. Her heir.”

It was my turn to be annoyed. For someone so filled with hate, my mother certainly knew a lot about Fae history and religion. She spoke of Aisling with no awe or confusion about who she was. I supposed she had learned of the ancient queen while living in the theocratic territory of Nightshade.

“Well, where was the heir?” I asked.

My mother smiled bitterly. “For many years he refused to tell me, holding the information over my head as long as I was willing to work with the rebellion. I assumed he was somewhere in the North, as Gancanagh was equally interested in stamping out the last person who could challenge rule over Elsewhere as I was in finding and freeing him. I kept in contact with him while we lived in the valley near the Source, and all the whiletried to keep your magic hidden. Unfortunately, that became impossible.”

“What do you mean?”

She looked at me with something akin to disgust. “No matter what I did, that horrible power would leak out. Everywhere you went, you would summon Wilde creatures to you. At first, it was just the Underfae, but then it became worse. As you grew older, any creature with magic would become fixated on you and follow you around like a moth to a flame. You would play in the forest, and come home riding some monster claiming it was tame.”

“I don’t remember that,” I interrupted.

“You were very small. No more than five, and already your power was more than I could handle. I knew by the time you reached adulthood, there would be no chance of hiding it unless I forced you to stop. I invented rules to prevent you from encountering magic, but you broke them. I tried beating you for it, rewarding you when you surpassed it, but nothing worked. You weren’t afraid of me.”

“So you taught me to fear the Fae instead.”

She nodded. “It wasn’t difficult. I paid some members of the rebellion to attack you, so you’d fear both them and the forest.”

Unconsciously, my hand flew to my ear. I remembered the attack she spoke of, and she was right—after that, I’d known that the Fae were evil. They were dangerous, and I could never disobey my mother’s rules again.

“Why would you bring us to the capital? If you were so worried I’d use magic, why take me to a court full of it?”

She grimaced. “You’d stopped using your powers intentionally, but there were still the occasional incidents. You’d have an argument with your sister, and the afflicted would swarm our home. I knew it was only a matter of time until you realized you had caused the attacks, and it was no random coincidence. Ganacangh visited me once again, and offered to take you from me.”

I gasped. “Why?”

She grimaced. “I assume to bring you to Underneath where your powers might help him in his quest to hold on to his throne.”

“Why not let him?” I asked bitterly. “If you hated me so much.”

“I didn’t hate you,” she said verdantly. “I hated the magic, but I still foolishly believed I could stamp it out of you with time. At least I might be able to lessen it, after all, your sister was half Fae as well and never showed a shred of that horrible power.”

“Yes, she did.”

A dark sense of contentment washed over me. I longed to confront my mother with this information, knowing it would undoubtedly infuriate her. It was a small way to get back at her for the pain she had caused me. “Rosey was a seer, she dreamed of the future almost every night.”

My mother stopped, her words cut off by her surprise. After a moment, she swallowed, and fixed me with a contemptuously glare. “Liar.”

I laughed. “I wish I was lying. You certainly taught me how to do it well. Was that really for protection, or were you just assuring yourself that as long as I could lie I was still mostly human?”

She flinched, and didn’t have to answer. I knew I’d hit the nail on the head. How would she react if she knew I struggled with untruths more with every passing day?

“Let me guess,” I said wearily. “You were called on by the rebellion seven years ago?”

She nodded. “I was still bound to seek out the heir, and the longer I spent in the capital avoiding my purpose the more restless I felt. I jumped at the opportunity to return to Aftermath to seek him out, with or without Gancanagh’s help. I spent years there, searching, and finally realized there was no heir to be found. I contacted the rebellion again, and got myself sent to Underneath to confront Gancanagh after all these years. He owed me the information.”