“No, it’s okay. I…I should talk about her more. For a while, I couldn’t even say her name. But everything I do is for her.”
Dread rippled through me. “She was a hybrid, wasn’t she?”
He closed his eyes. “Yes. I didn’t find out until months later. Guards stormed our home. One moment, she was in my arms, and the next, she wasn’t. I was taken to be interrogated by one of their truth-seekers. When they found I had no knowledge of what she was, I was freed.” He opened his eyes once more, and they blazed with fury. “Because my power was still useful. But the love of my life had been taken. By the time they let me go, Gods Day had passed. I never saw her again.”
The color had disappeared from Vicer’s cheeks, and he looked drained. Almost lifeless.
I took a shaky breath. “What was her name?”
“Rosin. She was Margie’s daughter.”
That explained why they’d become so close. And why he trusted her so deeply. Reaching out, I grabbed Vicer’s hand.
“I’ll do whatever I have to. For Rosin.”
He squeezed my hand. “For Rosin.”
Just a few hours later, Vicer stood waiting outside the rebels’ headquarters. He handed me a piece of parchment, and I stared at the royal seal. I’d known Vicer had contacts in the castle, but this looked so…official.
“How?”
“We have someone with replication magic.”
I’d heard of replication magic, even in my small village. Not only was it incredibly rare—and therefore valuable—but those with the power of replication were almost always taken to the city to work for the king. It was an open secret that some people with this magic were able not just to replicate, but to make small changes when necessary. That meant my identification was legal—at least as far as the guards would be able to tell.
Such magic would be incredibly useful. Weapons, food, clothes…where did that power end?
“Are you ready?” Vicer asked, jolting me from my thoughts. He hadn’t seemed nervous until this very moment, but the tension on his face rekindled my own.
Tibris slapped him on the back. “We’re ready.”
Nerves fluttered in my stomach.
We don’t have time for your insecurity and self-doubt.
How Lorian would laugh if he knew just how much I was relying on those words.
In another life.
My chest tightened, and I shoved the memory out of my mind.
Vicer nodded at us. “A carriage will take you to the servants’ entrance. Your identification will be checked at every stop. Keep your eyes down, your attitude meek,” Vicer addressed the last to me. “No matter what the guards say to you.”
I sighed. For Asinia, I could be meek. After all, I’d had plenty of practice at every Gifting and Taking ceremony in our village as I’d fought not to draw attention to myself. “I will.”
He opened the door, and I surveyed the carriage. Thankfully, it had a horse. The driver leaned against the carriage and waited, a scowl on his face.
Margie had followed us out. “Good luck,” she said.
I met her eyes. Hope gleamed at me, and I wanted to hunch my shoulders under the weight of it. But I held her gaze. “Thank you.”
Within a few moments, we were sitting in the carriage, watching as the slums gave way to townhouses and green parks.
“You know, with your dark hair, we look more alike now than we ever have,” Tibris said casually.
“Are you…angry about Papa?”
We both knew what I meant. If Papa had been working on my memories…
When he didn’t speak, I took a deep breath and kept talking, unable to leave it alone. “I’m younger than you by almost five winters. Ivene said I was three winters when Mama took me.”
Our eyes met, and this time, Tibris’s eyes were hollow. “I had seen eight winters. And yet I have no recollection of suddenly having a new sister. As far as my memories are concerned, you were just always…there.”
It was bitterness I tasted now. Both our parents were dead. We couldn’t turn back time and ask Papa why he’d gone along with whatever reason Mama had given him for taking me from my true parents.
She had said it was to save my life. But to keep it hidden for so many years, to never tell those parents that I was okay?
Unless she didn’t need to tell them. Because they were dead. The thought made me want to howl.
“Papa must have been working on me constantly.” Tibris’s voice was as bitter as the taste in my mouth.