Page 18

Screams echo outside.

Black smoke curls out from the estate.

“RUN!” the warbled voice commands.

I’m stumbling through the woods.

My lungs are burning from the exertion.

A voice is calling for me.

I refuse to look back.

I push my way through some brush, looking for a place to hide.

Someone grabs my hand, jerking me around to face them.

It’s the cloaked woman with lavender eyes.

“Awaken.”

I bolt upright, sweat glistening against my brow. I place my hand on my chest, taking several deep breaths.

In… two… three.

Out… two… three.

In… two… three.

Out… two… three.

I repeat the words Amelia taught me.

“It’s just a dream and nothing more.”

Over and over again.

It can’t hurt me.

This is the second time that I’ve encountered the same woman with lavender eyes in my nightmare.

There’s something about her presence that rattles me.

The dream itself possesses its own horrors: a burning house, heart-wrenching screams, someone telling me to run, being pursued through the woods only to be found once I am hidden.

Always the same sequence of events… until recently.

I look out of the window adjacent to my bed. By the light shade of gray in the sky, I would say it’s about mid-morning. The world beyond is cast in a misty haze, silhouetting Aurelius.

Strange.

Normally, even in the daylight, the mist shrouds the village, leaving it opaque. Right now, it is almost translucent as the tops of roofs peek out from behind it.

When the mist rises, and this land is drenched in blood…

I run my fingers through my hair, shaking the memory.

No, it is just another caliginous day in Aurelius.

I am home .

I am safe .

I take a deep breath.

“Maeva?” Amelia calls from the doorway.

I’m taken aback as I turn toward where she stands with a tray in her hands. Her eyes are apprehensive as she takes in my current state .

“Are you well, Darling Flower?” she asks kindly, though her posture is rigid.

“Of course,” I reply, forcing a smile. “It was just a nightmare again.”

“I see you do not appear to be in quite as bad a shape as Cara,” she assesses, tilting her head. “Her under eyes are different shades of blue and purple. She’s refusing to even sit up in bed.”

I cringe at her words.

There are very few times I’ve ever seen Amelia sound this concerned.

The last time being when the twins thought it was a good idea to jump from the roof with bed sheets attached to their limbs as makeshift wings.

Needless to say, Cillian landed a broken leg.

Aidan somehow managed to glide into the one tree near the house, bed sheets wrapping around a branch, leaving him suspended upside down.

She was quite distressed, to say the least.

Yet, as I look at her now, I don’t see the worrying disappointment that she had that day with the twins. Instead, her forehead is creased, and her smile is slightly turned down. Her hands fidget nervously with the edges of the tray.

Is she afraid of me?

“Did she tell you what happened?” I ask.

She slowly crosses the room, setting the tray of food on my lap.

Then she sits on the edge of the bed nearest my feet.

“She told me about the soldiers attacking the two of you, that you risked your own safety by fighting one of them, and by Siorai’s grace, you were both able to escape before anything worse could happen,” she says quietly.

I look down at the tray as my face heats and fresh tears form.

Gingerly, I push the fruit around on my plate.

It seems Cara only told Amelia the necessary truths.

Perhaps that is for the best. If Amelia and Rolph truly knew what happened, it would put them at risk for obtaining such knowledge and not immediately informing the soldiers.

I can’t put them in a position to make that kind of decision.

Especially when I am unsure they would still choose to have me if they knew the whole truth.

The bit that Cara did share might already be too much.

If the soldiers found out, the Cales would all be punished… because of me.

I continue staring at my food, afraid to meet the gaze of the woman who has given me a home—a place to belong.

“Yes,” I finally say. “Did she mention anything else?”

The bed creaks as Amelia shifts her weight.

Then, her hand is gently clasping mine. “No. She is too distressed to even discuss the ordeal in detail,” she says, rubbing soothing circles on the top of my hand.

“It makes me ill to think what they were thinking of doing to you both. What they could’ve done if?—”

Amelia’s body is trembling as she brings her other hand to wipe away the fresh tears that have streaked along her cheeks.

I wiggle my hand free from hers as I set the tray on the other side of the bed.

Leaning forward, I wrap her in an embrace.

Together, we weep for the moments we cannot change.

My heart breaks for Cara and what she endured because of me.

Perhaps I am an omen. Perhaps that predator wouldn’t have paid her any mind if I hadn’t come along.

But what would have happened if she’d been alone? The possibility sours my stomach.

Amelia pulls away, grabbing my face in her delicate hands, while her thumbs swipe across my reddened cheeks.

I close my eyes, relaxing against her hold.

Her touch has a way of healing a part of my spirit, even when I don’t realize it’s broken.

“I thank Siorai for protecting you both and allowing you to come back home to us,” she whispers.

My insides tangle around themselves.

We were able to come home because I murdered that soldier. If I’m being honest, I enjoyed killing him—relished it even. If I knew how to access that deep well of power, I’d gladly do it again—if needed. But, my mind replays Cara’s terrified voice: “Maeva, what did you do?”

You did what was necessary, the voice says.

Perhaps, I reply.

“Did she tell you that she doesn’t trust me?” I ask Amelia, not expecting an answer. “I did something, Amelia. Something that I cannot reverse or change, and I am afraid that Cara will hate me forever because of it.”

“I know,” she says. “She told me that something happened that neither of you can explain.”

I nod.

“Maeva, you and Cara haven’t been children for quite some time.

Even though you stay here with us, I do not expect either of you to tell me information that is too uncomfortable to speak about openly,” she pauses before continuing.

“However, if you were to ask for my advice, I would say to talk to your sister.”

She pushes a strand of hair away from my brow.

“You’ve gone through so much in your short existence, and still have much more life to live,” she says sadly.

“There’s so much that we should discuss, but perhaps now isn’t the time.

” She says the last phrase rather quietly, perhaps more to herself than to me.

Wiping her eyes, she continues, “I need you to know that when you’re ready, I will be here. ”

“Thank you,” I whisper.

Amelia gently kisses the top of my head, and walks to the entryway.

“Of course, Darling Flower. Now, eat up and rest,” she says, closing the door once more.

Once she’s gone, I pick up the tray and quickly eat the arrangement of berries and buttered toast. The sweet juice from the berries fills my mouth with a blend of glorious flavors.

Paired with the toast, it makes for the perfect combination of sweet and salty.

I devour the meal in a few minutes. Then I lay back down to sleep.