Page 12

Chapter 11

Friend or Foe

My mother gave me no more opportunity to ask questions as she strode off down the passageway. We stopped by my dorm to gather my things. The acolytes and chaperones were already in the classroom for the day, so the dorm was empty except for Mara. She lingered next to my bed with a woven basket tucked under her arm.

“Mara?” I asked, making her jump.

“Oh, you startled me.” She put her hand to her chest as she turned around. “I wasn’t sure if you were coming back. I was going to pack up your things and have them sent to your mother’s suite.”

As acolytes, we didn’t have many possessions, and I’d happily burn all my robes and never wear them again; however, I had a few trinkets on a shelf next to my bed, including an antique hairbrush that had been in my family for generations. It had been a treasure of mine since I was a child, and Mara knew that.

I stepped to her side and held my hand out for the basket. “That’s very kind, but I can do it.”

“Alula, I…” She stopped as she noticed the suspicious stare my mother was openly sending her way. Mara’s shoulders tensed up, and she handed the basket over but didn’t leave.

Her staying was odd, even considering the tentative renewal of our friendship last night. A flash of panic gripped me as a sudden recollection struck.

I couldn’t believe I’d been so careless as to leave the incriminating black feather under my pillow while I was gone. Had she seen it?

I held my breath, but she gave no sign of knowing as she looked at the ground demurely, in deference to my mother.

If she had or hadn’t, there was nothing I could do about that now. My mother was the bigger risk in this moment. She had briefly dropped her mask and shared some of her secrets this morning, but I was in no rush to share mine, not when I felt sure she was still hiding more than she had revealed.

I needed my mother’s attention off me. She had always been far too observant. She may have also been a neglectful parent, but by her own admission, that had been a choice. Given the magnitude of her revelations this morning, I could not count on her continued neglect.

A loaded, silent tension stole over the three of us.

“Mara, didn’t you have a question for my mother?” I shot her a loaded look, and her eyes widened. It was a question Mara had often asked me when we were kids and she wanted me to distract her mother, usually when we were up to no good. It had always put me on the spot, and I hoped it didn’t make Mara freeze now. Addressing a vessel as important as my mother wasn’t something anyone did lightly.

Mara hesitated for a heartbeat as she gave me a confused side-eye, then turned, angling herself between my mother and me.

“It’s lovely to see you again, Vessel Leora.”

My mother narrowed her eyes before folding her hands in front of her and giving Mara an assessing once-over. Even with wet hair and a damp robe, my mother was intimidating.

“Mara. It has been an age since I’ve spoken to you. Congratulations on becoming a potentiate. We will see a lot more of each other now.”

Mara seemed to flounder a little as an uncomfortable silence descended again. My mother had acknowledged my friends when we were kids, but I think that was the most words she’d ever spoken to Mara. I stuffed my few belongings into the basket before Mara’s obvious nerves got the better of her, then folded my spare robe on top. The feather and the shadow still twined around it went into my pocket. Leaving them out of reach again wasn’t an option.

Mara’s years of polite acolyte training finally kicked in as I turned back around. “Thank you, Vessel Leora. Uh, as you know, my mother hasn’t lived amongst the nobles for quite some time. If you have any advice about what lies ahead for me as a potentiate, I would be very appreciative.”

My mother narrowed her eyes at Mara for a moment, considering, before nodding once, as if she’d decided something. “Do you have a dress for the presentation?”

Mara bit her lip before she looked back at the ground. “I’m not sure. My mother may have something.”

She seemed as lost as I felt, her careful poise fracturing for a moment as her shoulders slumped. It had me wondering if she felt as lonely as I did.

The formal potentiate presentation dinner, which marked the start of the Ostara Festival, was only two nights away. It was the family’s responsibility to oversee the potentiates throughout the celebration, including ensuring they are suitably clothed. Elder Welkin expected us to spend today and tomorrow preparing, but that was as much as we’d been told.

Most acolytes came from a matriarchal line of vessels, like I did, yet Mara was rare. Her mother wasn’t a vessel. Her parents had once lived within the citadel towers and would have attended the celebrations, so they should know what to expect, but I doubted they’d now have the means to purchase the finery required of a potentiate. There was nobody to help Mara through this week, and given Elder Welkin was nowhere in sight, it appeared he didn’t intend to volunteer.

“Presentation dresses have a traditional style and are usually heirlooms handed down through generations. I’ve had mine brought out of storage for Alula. I’ll find someone willing to lend you theirs, Mara. We also have a wardrobe full of dresses prepared for Alula, more than she needs. They just need final fittings. You look to be roughly the same size, so you may borrow some for the rest of the events if you need. Is someone coming to escort you to your family’s home now? As a potentiate, someone should chaperone you while in town to preserve your reputation.”

“Yes. My mother sent word that my eldest brother will be here shortly and will chaperone me when needed.”

“Good. Spend some time with your family. I’m sure you’ve missed them. Then come to my suite a few hours before the presentation ceremony and you can get ready together. I can show you both how to do your hair and use rouges.”

Mara swallowed hard. “Thank you. I don’t deserve such generosity.”

“You were my daughter’s friend once. Maybe you can be again now that you’re no longer acolytes.” My mother’s tongue was sharp, as always.

Mara shot me a look so loaded with guilt I could almost see the weight of it pressing on her as her shoulders wilted further. I tried to give her a reassuring smile, but I wasn’t sure what my mother was up to. Chances were, it wasn’t anything good for Mara.

“Are you done, Alula?”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Very well. We shall go. Don’t be late, Mara.”

My mother didn’t bother waiting for a reply, just turned and walked away. The wave I gave Mara was more than a little awkward as I followed my mother between the neat rows of beds. Leaving with my small basket of possessions after spending so many years confined to the acolyte quarters felt unsettling—not at all what I had expected to feel.

As I walked through the doorway for the last time, the way Mara had lingered made sense to me. The unknown that had felt so far away was now slamming us in the face.

We were a few passages away before I dared ask, “What was that about, with Mara?”

“If we need a distraction, she may come in handy. A need you just proved with whatever trinket you thought was so important you had to hide it in your basket.”

My throat tightened involuntarily. I hadn’t been as stealthy as I’d thought, but at least she hadn’t mentioned my pocket. Her words about Mara disturbed me, though. Picking up my pace, I walked by her side, something she wouldn’t have tolerated when I was younger. “You’d sacrifice her for me?”

My mother whirled on me, getting in my face and forcing me to take a step backward. “I would sacrifice many things to make sure you live, Alula. Mara is the least of them. I have tried my best to keep you safe while also giving you as much space as I could, but now, your fate is coming for you. You cannot trust anyone .”

Fighting the urge to lower my gaze, I raised a pointed eyebrow at her. I didn’t need to point out she was also someone I couldn’t trust. Her flush told me she’d gotten my silent point.

I’d never liked riddles, and I was tired of them. I wanted answers. “Maybe I could figure out who to trust if you told me more.”

She sighed in frustration. “You need to stop daydreaming and look around you, Alula. After ignoring you for years, why was Mara so interested in your things? The elders are still suspicious of you, despite everything I have done to disguise you. They will use any tool they can fashion to come at you. She is hiding something, and chances are she is also up to something, at the behest of someone.”

Years of early friendship had me opening my mouth to deny it, but did I truly know Mara anymore? If anyone around me was susceptible to coercion or blackmail, it would be her. She had a lot to lose if she didn’t become a vessel, as did her family, who would benefit from her rise in rank.

My gaze slid away, avoiding the punishing truth in my mother’s words. I’d never had a big circle of people I could trust, but the more I learned, the smaller that circle seemed to get. According to my mother, at this point, the only person I could trust was myself. Giving up hope of a reconciliation with Mara hurt worse than the gradual fading of our friendship the first time round. Then, it had purpose. Now, it felt like a harbinger of all my new life would bring.

Things were supposed to get better once I became a potentiate. It had been the one consolation I’d whispered to myself during long, sleepless nights. That promise was now fading like a spring sunset, with all the colors of my future being bled dry.

“I need you to cast aside your pride and do whatever needs to be done. As will I.” The unexpectedly gentle touch on my arm urged me to look at her, but I shrugged it off.

My heart burned. Of all the feelings rushing me, indignation flared the brightest. After so long being denied any means of asserting myself, I lashed out with words designed to hurt. “I have no pride. You and Elder Welkin ensured that.”

Hot, hard feelings rose—ones I hadn’t known I was capable of feeling. My mother wasn’t clear about what she was asking me to do. Even so, I wasn’t sure I could do it, not if it only led to a new life filled with the same bleeding loneliness.

My mother didn’t engage with my deflection, just turned and continued walking. She’d been doing this dance a lot longer than I had.

As I followed in her wake, I kept a bigger distance between us as I mulled over her answer. My mother wanted something more from me—that much was clear—but this was the most I could give her right now. I wasn’t making any promises I wasn’t sure I could keep, not until I knew more.

It wasn’t as easy to shake the sudden unease her words had brought me, though, nor the sudden anger. Things were becoming complicated. Sticky webs were wrapping me up tight, leaving me with no control over how tightly they wound and no way to unravel them. All the while, a fate was rushing toward me I had never asked for, and I wasn’t sure I was going to like the choices it would force me to make.

When we reached the door of her suite, my mother darted a look around before bending. She grabbed what appeared to be a flower and a carved rock from the floor beside the door and shoved them in her pocket, crushing the delicate bloom.

“What was that?” I asked, confused by her strange actions.

“Never mind. Eyes down, Alula. We have a show to put on.”

My mother’s whispered words confused me even more until she opened the door to her suite.

“There you are my pretty. Where have you been so early?”

That voice had me snapping back to attention.