Slaying the Vampire Conqueror(61)

And yet. I had to ask. Not just because the Sightmother already saw the shape of my secret, but because my brother’s life was worth my humiliation.

“When we marched on Vasai,” I said. “I met someone from my former life. Naro.”

The Sightmother had no reaction.

“He’s… he’s very ill. He was taken advantage of by Tarkan for decades. He has been addicted to Pythoraseed for years, and it has ravaged him. If the withdrawal doesn’t kill him, the drug will. But—”

Until now, I had been successful at keeping my voice calm and measured. Here, a little crack slipped through before I could stop it.

“But Arachessen healers might be able to help him. They might—”

“You’re asking to allow an outsider into the Salt Keep?”

The Sightmother’s voice was kind, as if comforting a child. But the harsh phrasing of the question hurt to hear, because I knew how it sounded.

The Sightmother stepped closer. Her aura wrapped around mine. What had been overbearing before now turned into an embrace.

I no longer cried after the damage to my eyes. But sometimes, I felt the symptoms of it—the prickling behind my eyes, the choked sensation in my throat.

“I could take him somewhere else,” I said. “And they could come to him—”

The Sightmother took my hand. Her thumb rubbed it, back and forth, back and forth, the steady cadence of a heartbeat. She had done this since I was a child. At the time, I was so grateful to have such affection. I thought I would never feel a loving touch again. And in the Sightmother’s, I thought, This is it. I’m finally safe.

Now, for one horrible moment, I resented it. I resented it so fiercely I almost yanked my hand away.

“Sylina does not have a brother,” she murmured. “You know this. I know I do not need to tell you this.”

She was right. I’d taken vows. I’d given up my former life. I’d cut out every influence. And back then I was so grateful for it. There was nothing about my old life that I wanted to keep. Nothing but death and loss and fear and hurt that I never wanted to experience again.

I’d been so quick to throw away Vivi.

But I hadn’t known then that I was throwing away Naro, too. I thought Naro was already gone.

Never once had I questioned my vows to the Arachessen.

Not until now.

And immediately, I hated myself for it. I thrust that shameful thought away, far into the back of my mind, and slammed the door.

“I know, Sightmother. I only…”

Her thumb moved back and forth, back and forth, across my hand.

“You have had a more difficult thread to walk than your Sisters,” she murmured, voice soft. “You have a burden to bear for the rest of your life. I understand that. The Weaver understands that.”

And yet, her words made me feel so deeply ashamed.

She placed her hands on my cheeks and tilted my head toward her, kissing my forehead.

“We will always help you walk the path back home.”

This should have been comforting. After all, what was a family but those who helped you find your way back to what was Right?

But today, it did not feel comforting.

The Sightmother withdrew, her attention slipping away. Her head cocked, and I suspected that she was being whispered to by Asha.

“I need to go,” she said. “The night is coming soon, anyway. You should be going.”

I nodded. I kept careful hold on my presence, pulling myself back to the image of stoic professionalism.

The Sightmother reached into the bag at her side and withdrew a sheathed dagger. She handed it to me without ceremony, like she was passing off a piece of bread at dinner. But when my hands closed around it, they went a little numb.

“It’s blessed,” she said. “One strike with that, close to the heart as you can get, and he’ll be dead.”

Dead.

I fought so, so hard to keep both my face and my presence calm.

“We’ve learned enough,” she said. “Let him get through Karisine and kill him whenever you can do so safely. Then return to the Salt Keep.”

She didn’t give me time to respond. She simply turned around and disappeared, stepping into the threads and leaving me there holding my blessed, cursed dagger, the order so much heavier than the blade.





28





I took the long walk back to the Thorn Palace, treasuring the lull of the dusky hours. When I returned, Atrius was waiting for me in my room.

I stopped short. He was standing by the window, peering through a slit in the curtains at the view beyond, where the sun was just disappearing beneath the rocky horizon.

The weight of the dagger at my hip felt like it doubled.

“I’m glad you let yourself in,” I said, flat with sarcasm.

Our usual banter. Nothing was different.

“It’s all my castle now.” He turned around to face me and said, “Your brother is awake.”

My heart skipped a beat. I had to stop myself from turning around and running to Naro’s side immediately.

“I’ve been thinking,” Atrius went on. “Of course, you will be traveling with us to Karisine. And if you wanted him to, I would allow him to come.”

My brows rose a little at that. Of course, Naro couldn’t travel—nor would I want him to. Coming with Atrius’s army was probably the most dangerous place he could be, no matter how much I might selfishly want to keep my brother close.