“What in the—” he muttered.
A familiar presence fell over me like a long shadow.
Suddenly everything felt very cold.
Suddenly I was very, very afraid.
In a single abrupt movement, I stepped in front of Atrius, pushed him back, and bowed my head.
“Sightmother,” I breathed. “It’s such a relief to see you.”
I tried to make myself believe it—make every single one of my threads vibrate with my love for her, my gratefulness.
“I wish I could say the same,” the Sightmother said, emerging from the darkness to stand beside the Pythora King, a single casual hand on his shoulder.
43
I wished I could communicate with Atrius wordlessly. I wished I could tell him to put that damned sword down, right now. Because I knew he was confused, too, but all he knew was that I was a runaway Arachessen and this was the Sightmother, and he had promised to protect me.
If he tried to protect me, he would die.
I held my hand out behind me, a single splayed palm that I prayed told him clearly, Stop.
And what did it say that a childish part of me, the part of me who had been raised by this woman, couldn’t stand to see Atrius kill her—or the other way around?
What was she doing here?
I hadn’t asked for backup. They certainly hadn’t indicated they would give me any. But perhaps I had been wrong when I’d interpreted my unanswered call to the Keep as a sign that the Arachessen had discovered my betrayal.
Perhaps she had changed her mind.
Perhaps she had come here, knowing we were coming for the Pythora King and… and killed him before we could.
It didn’t make sense. But it was the only scenario I could string together.
I was normally good with words, good with playing different roles while thinking fast. But my confusion slipped to the surface now, despite myself.
“I don’t—did you do this, Sightmother?” I gestured to the king—the corpse, more like it. “After all this time, have we finally—”
The Sightmother approached me, step by step, and cupped my cheek. She smiled. Her touch was overwhelming—she let all her emotions pour through it. Intense motherly love, fifteen years worth of it. The pride of a commanding officer.
And sheer, bloody, cold-as-steel anger. Anger that only cut deeper for all the warmth she felt, burying into my gut and twisting.
Her smile soured as her lip curled.
“What,” she asked calmly, “are you doing here?”
I had experienced fear before. But never fear like this.
There was a right answer to this question. There had to be. I frantically told myself this, forced myself to believe it.
I could give her that perfect answer. I should try.
Instead, I asked, just as calmly, “What are you doing here?”
“I came to meet you, of course.”
This answer was not comforting. Instead, it chilled me down to my bones.
I stuffed that fear as far down as I could, hidden beneath decades worth of genuine love for the Sightmother.
“I’m so happy to see you,” I said. “But why is the Pythora King—”
“The Pythora King is more than a man.”
I didn’t understand. I didn’t even know how to frame the question on my lips.
“The Pythora King has not been a man,” the Sightmother said, “for a very long time.”
A terrible feeling rose in my throat. A buzzing in my ears, like the breath of a monster behind me, a realization that I didn’t want to turn around and face.
I said, quietly, “Sightmother, I don’t understand.”
Her smile flickered. She laughed softly. “Come, Sylina. You’re so intelligent. How can you tell me you never suspected?”
Never suspected what? I wanted to say. But I didn’t want to open my mouth to let her hear my voice. Didn’t want to betray my own confusion.
“There is power in suffering,” she said. “There is power in having something to fight against. We taught you that. And you know it better than most.”
My ears were ringing.
I didn’t want to believe what she was saying. Couldn’t believe it. Because if I was putting these pieces together right, it meant I had just spent my life fighting against a king that didn’t exist, in service to a Sisterhood that had lied to me. Lied, in the name of the very evil that I was so determined to wipe off the face of this kingdom.
Something inside me simply collapsed. Just came apart. I opened my mouth but found no words. I choked them back, because whatever would come out would just betray my devastation.