“You were fifteen,” I point out.
“And very fae,” he counters. “With a mother who could no longer talk or interact and a brother who was ten years old and scared out of his mind. The Oreans didn’t resent me right away, but it came. With time. Especially when they realized I could leave and they could not.”
I pause. “What do you mean?”
He stops to turn toward me. “Lu told me what you said at the pavilion, that you could sense something was…off about them.”
“Yes…” I say.
“You were picking up on their life force being connected to Annwyn.”
My eyes go wide. “What?”
“Everyone here in Drollard—they’d been taken from Orea by my father hundreds of years ago, when the Bridge of Lemuria still stood. Living in Annwyn fae-blessed them with long life. But when we came here… The rip is their last connection to Annwyn. If they stray too far from it, they will die instantly.”
My hand flies to my mouth. “So none of them can ever leave here.”
“Only Ryatt and myself and the very few children who have been born.”
“Like Twig.”
He nods. “Like Twig. We worry that leaving a child here too long will make them dependent on the rip as well, so I bring them to Fourth Kingdom with me when they’re old enough to be away from their family.”
“But what about Ryatt?” I ask. “He’s technically not fae like you, so why is he able to leave?”
“The only theory I’ve come up with is our mother must have a very strong fae bloodline—far stronger than Orean—which would make sense with how powerful her magic used to be. So I suppose that’s what made it so his life force isn’t dependent on the rip, either.”
I drag a hand through my hair, eyes straying off to the crevices of the cave, though I’m not really seeing them.
“I know this is a lot to take in.”
Blowing out a breath, I nod. “Yes, but I’m glad you’re telling me.”
This time, it’s Slade who squeezes my hand. “As I said before, I will tell you everything. I just don’t want to overwhelm you.”
I give him a soft smile. “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you. For saving everyone. For protecting them. For figuring out everything when you were only fifteen years old, when you could’ve easily given up.”
Slade reaches up and trails a light finger over my cheek. “Giving up isn’t in my nature.”
“You are very stubborn when you set your sights on something.”
“My sights rarely steer me wrong,” he replies as we start walking forward again.
As we near Elore’s house, I ask, “Why doesn’t your mother live with the other villagers?”
“Falling into the rip affected her more than anyone,” he says quietly. From his profile, I can see the heaviness in his eyes, the weight seeming to settle on his shoulders. “Her magic, her words, her light, it was like it was all just extinguished. She’s only spoken a handful of words since we passed through. Sometimes, I’m not even sure she recognizes me.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” I say, my heart squeezing. “I saw the way she looks at you. She adores you.”
“I wish she spoke,” he confesses thickly.
My throat constricts. “It must’ve been really hard on you and Ryatt when you first got here.”
“There was a healer who came through with us—she was half fae. She tried to help my mother, but whatever happened couldn’t be reversed. So it’s hard to be here and to see her like this. To know I’m responsible for everyone here. I know that’s selfish…”
“It’s not,” I tell him firmly. “I understand.”
“Ryatt sure doesn’t,” he says with an edge of bitterness.
I hum thoughtfully. “Ryatt loves your mother, and you can tell he deeply cares for the people here. He doesn’t hold the same guilt you do, so he doesn’t understand why you avoid it. Perhaps to him, you’re abandoning it.”
“I would never abandon this place,” Slade says as he comes to a stop in front of his mother’s house. “Or her.”
“I know. I’m sure Ryatt knows that too, deep down.”
Slade glances over at the dark door, like his gaze is sanding over its ridges.
Something pulls hard in my chest. “You’re going to miss her,” I say quietly, noting the subtle tells of grief caught in the somber mesh of his eyes.