“I know. But…given what you can see…is there anything you can tell us?”
“The gods are very interested in what you do next.”
Fuck the gods. I took a deep breath. “Thank you for your time.”
“Wait,” Tibris said. “I just have a couple of questions. If it’s okay.”
Ivene turned, shushing whomever she could hear once more. But this time, she laughed playfully, waving her hand at the empty air. When her attention returned to us, Tibris cleared his throat. “The people who raised us…was I taken by them too?”
Something that might have been sympathy creased Ivene’s brows. “No, child. You were born of the people you called Mama and Papa.”
Tibris kept his expression neutral. All those games of King’s Web had paid off. I couldn’t tell how he felt about that.
“And Prisca? Why did my mother take her from her birth parents?”
She gave him a sweet smile, as if he’d finally asked the right question. And then she turned to me.
“There are some things I can’t tell you yet. Things you must learn when the time is right. But I can tell you this… You were just three winters old. If you had been in your bed that night, you would have died. The man you called your papa did everything he could to take those memories from you, but eventually, you will begin to remember.”
A dull betrayal slipped beneath my skin. My papa—who I’d thought could do no wrong—had been using his power on me for my entire life.
“Where are my birth parents now?”
“I can’t see that. I can only see what has been.” Ivene held out her hand to me. I took it. Her skin felt as fragile as paper in mine. “But occasionally, the gods whisper warnings in my ear.” She laughed at me. “And I know just what you think of those gods.”
I opened my mouth, but she just shook her head.
“One day soon, you will have to make a choice. Be a torch for just one soul in the dark…or burn like the sun for all of them.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I jolted awake as someone slammed a fist on my door. “Hurry up, Pris.”
Vicer.
I groaned, wanting nothing more than to roll back over. Hauling myself out of bed, I dressed, splashed water on my face, and met Tibris and Vicer downstairs.
The sun had barely risen, and Tibris looked as bleary-eyed as I felt. Vicer seemed to have been up for hours.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“You’ll see.”
I scowled. Vicer ignored me and turned to the door, stepping out into the cool air. I lifted Galon’s cloak off the hook by the door and followed him. If Tibris was tired of Vicer’s cryptic behavior, I couldn’t tell. His expression was placid as we strolled through the slums, back toward the potions shop we’d visited yesterday.
I was more prepared for the tunnel this time—not that it helped. Still, I refused to let Vicer see how much I struggled, so I kept my head down, counting off the approximate foot-spans once we passed the nook where we’d met Ivene.
Vicer continued down to a four-way intersection of tunnels and turned right. It felt like several years later when the low hum of voices reached my ears.
A lot of voices.
Vicer didn’t seem concerned. He just continued his slow, methodical crawl, ducked his head, and disappeared around a corner.
I followed and found him standing in a huge cavern, holding out his hand for me.
Grabbing it, I stepped past him so Tibris could join us. The noise was even louder here, but it still had a hushed quality to it.
The space was larger than it should be. The part of me that continually worried about such things wondered how the roof didn’t fall in on the hundreds of people who were wandering from stall to stall.
The walls were dirt, but every few foot-spans, a large blue-green crystal had been sunk into the wall, illuminating the merchants’ faces and casting everything in a blue glow.
Tibris reached me, and we both stared, taking in the tiny tables straining beneath weapons, scrolls, books, charms, precious stones, potions… My head spun. The light was dim enough that it took me moment to realize some of the cave walls had been cut out—large swaths of cloth hanging in front of them to ensure privacy. Whatever happened behind those curtains, the merchants wanted kept private.
I glanced at Vicer, who was surveying the market with a satisfied gleam in his eye.
“Explain,” I said. “Please.”
Vicer shrugged one shoulder. “This is how most of the hybrids in this city stay alive until they’re old enough to pass for twenty-five winters.” He led us to the closest table, which held a variety of charms and stones. “Depending on the kind of power a hybrid has, how strong it is, if it’s passive or active, these can sometimes help keep them hidden—even from an assessor.”