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"I don't want to sound ungrateful," Yasmin whispered, absently stroking Cyra's hair. "It's just that everything seems a little too good to be true. Maybe that's why Rana felt like she needed to cloak herself in sarcasm. It's her armor."

"That is a wise perspective, Yasmin," the goddess acknowledged. "Naturally, I do not expect you to blindly trust our every word. Unlike the fae in folklore, we are not bound by magic to speak only the truth. Although I must admit that I like those stories about the fae, and I've often wondered what prompted them." She leaned forward as if sharing a secret. "In my experience, most myths that have withstood the test of time have a kernel of truth. Like the vampire lore, angels, watchers, and gods."

Kyra smiled. "I don't think my sisters know what the fae are. It's not the kind of reading that's popular in Iran."

"Oh." The Clan Mother leaned back. "But you seem to know."

Kyra smiled. "I had access to entertainment that they didn't."

The goddess looked disappointed. "I hope that you have retained some subconscious memories from your time in the United States."

"I have," Kyra said. "My command of English, for one. He didn't erase that from my memories, and I often dreamt of a little girl, thinking it was me in the past, while all along I was dreaming of my Jasmine."

She didn't need to elaborate on who she was referring to.

Max had told her that the Clan Mother was on top of everything happening in her community. After all, she was the head of the clan, and Kian was her regent. It was his duty to keep her informed.

The goddess nodded. "We will talk about your memories and what can be done about them later." She turned to Kyra's sisters. "Time will prove the truth of my words better than any promises I could make you today."

That seemed to resonate with them, and the goddess continued. "In the meantime, explore, ask questions, and meet people. I suggest you meet with Vrog, who is in charge of our homeschooling program. There is no rush, but at some point, the children need to resume their studies. You can also decide that you want to study something new, and Vrog can help you enroll in online courses."

Little Cyra, who had been quietly observing the adults' conversation, suddenly slipped from her mother's lap and walked over to Annani. The adults fell silent, watching as the four-year-old stood before the Clan Mother, studying her solemnly.

"You are very pretty," she said.

"Thank you." The goddess cupped her cheek. "So are you."

Cyra shook her head. "Not as pretty as you." She lifted her tiny hand and put it on the Clan Mother's exposed wrist.

"Your skin is pretty." She ran her hand over the goddess's forearm. "So soft." Then the child stunned everyone by lifting both her arms in a clear invitation to be lifted into the goddess's lap.

The Clan Mother smiled brightly and didn't hesitate even for a moment before picking the girl up and setting her on her lap. "I adore children." She kissed the top of Cyra's head. "I have a son and three daughters, sixteen grandchildren, and many great-grandchildren, and I cherish each and every one. In fact, most expectant mothers used to travel to my sanctuary to deliver their babies there, and they stayed with me until the girls turned immortal, and the boys were a little older and not as fragile. But nowadays things are different. Most of the recent births were babies born to mothers who have immortal mates and feel safe in the village."

The goddess's grandmotherly gesture, followed by her monologue, released some of the invisible tension, and as Kyra's sisters relaxed, the conversation started flowing more easily.

Eventually, the movie ended, the children returned to the terrace, and it was time to leave.

"We've taken up too much of the Clan Mother's time." Kyra rose to her feet. "We should go."

As her family began to gather themselves to depart, thanking the goddess for her hospitality, the Clan Mother handed Cyra to Yasmin and walked over to Kyra. "Can you stay? We need to talk."

"Of course," Kyra said. "I'll just escort my sisters to the bridge to make sure they don't get lost on their way home. I'll return right away."

9

ANNANI

When Kyra returned, Annani gestured for her to follow. "Let's talk somewhere more private."

She led Kyra past the living area into the bedroom that she had turned into a study. There was a small desk that she could move into her bedroom if she needed the room for guests, and the bed had been cleverly built into a bookcase and could be pulled down when needed. Two comfortable chairs faced the backyard with a round table between them for her morning tea and biscuits.

Usually, Annani did not bring anyone into this private space, but for some reason, she felt like inviting Kyra. Perhaps it was because she believed that Kyra would help find Khiann, and if she did, she would forever have a place in Annani's inner circle.

Possibly, though, it was the kinship that she felt with the woman, and the inner connection she could not explain.

"Please, sit," she gestured to one of the armchairs, then sat on the other. "You have a lovely family. I believe they will find happiness and purpose in our community. They just need time."

Kyra smiled. "My sisters are a handful, but I love them even more for it. I love it that they are strong individuals with their own opinions and beliefs. It's not easy for women living under the mullahs' oppressive regime. But then, the Iranian women are the proud daughters of Persia, and they are not easily silenced and marginalized. They are fighters."