I swallow the lump in my throat. Mom always used to rub my back this way when I was sick. “What’s a Mirror?”
“A person containing all the Callings. The gifts and abilities we’re given as children.” Wade paces to the other side of the cabin, sets the teacups in what appears to be a washbasin.
Ky mentioned Callings. And Wren. These Callings—powers—must be why Ky can paralyze. Why Haman can injure. Why Wren and Robyn can transform. And why Nathaniel can heal me. What about Makai? Is that why he could disappear? And Joshua. He was from here. Did he have some special superpower as well?
A pang stabs my chest. Now I’ll never know.
“But,” Robyn adds, “Mirrors are a myth. No one should have that much access to the Callings. It’s not natural.” She shudders. “Which leaves us where we started. Wondering how Jasyn freed the Void in the first place.”
“And so began the Era of Shadows,” Wade says when he returns, “bringing with it a Revolution. Those who served the Verity against those who submitted to the Void. Jasyn closed trade with the other Reflections, cut power throughout the provinces. The castle is the only place in all of the Second that still has access to electricity.”
I stare at my bowl, broth growing colder by the breath. Holy wow. This is the most epically tragic story I’ve ever heard. Suddenly my problems seem small in comparison.
But then Robyn smiles, teeth and all. Could this story have a happy ending?
“I always believed . . .” She swipes a stray tear with her knuckle and starts again. “I always believed he was lying, Papa. Even after Mother left, I still hoped.”
Wade takes his daughter’s hand. “I know, my girl. I know.” He chokes on the words.
“Believed what? Who was lying?” I’m like a little kid, begging to be read one more page at bedtime.
“There is much left to conjecture,” Wade answers. “We still have our Callings. That was our first clue Jasyn concealed the truth.”
When I scrunch my brows, Robyn adds, “The Callings are sourced by the Verity, you see. If the Verity had truly vanished, our abilities should have gone with it. We always hoped Jasyn’s claim was fabricated. Now we know for sure.” Her gaze finds my right cheek.
Out of habit I dip my head and let my hair fall over my birthmark. “What do you mean?”
“The mark on your face. It’s proof the Verity lives.” Robyn’s practically bouncing on her stool.
“How so?” I peek through my hair curtain.
“You are sixteen, seventeen maybe?” Wade’s eyebrows arch.
“I’ll be eighteen in three weeks.” I’ve always resented looking younger than I am. Mom says I’ll appreciate it someday.
“And you’ve always had that mark?” Wade asks.
“Since I was born.”
“All of this took place two decades ago,” Wade muses. “Before you even existed.”
“So?”
“Sooo . . .” Robyn stands. “There is only one person who could’ve given you a mark like this one.” She reaches out as if to brush the hair from my face, then seems to think better of it, her hand faltering.
This is a whole new kind of strange. Snickers and avoidance I’m used to, but someone looking at me with . . . awe? Wonder? I don’t know how to react. I’m almost afraid to ask, but I can’t help myself. “Who gave me this mark?”
Sudden silence, so tangible I can almost hear my blood pumping through my veins. They exchange grins, eyes alight where moments ago sadness lingered. It’s Robyn who breathes, “The vessel of the Verity, of course.”
ELEVEN
Sudden Heat
Whoa. Back up. Hold the phone. Take a number. “Excuse me?” I gape at them. “You’re telling me . . . what are you telling me exactly?” I press my palm against my forehead.
They open their mouths at the same time and then a knock, knock, knock resounds from the door. Robyn moves toward it, but Wade gestures for her to stay put. She takes a seat on the stool again as Wade crosses the cabin and answers.
“Thirty minutes,” someone says. “Have the girl ready.” Wade blocks my view, but the voice undoubtedly belongs to Saul the Grouch. Not that I’d recognize him otherwise considering I haven’t actually seen him yet.
“Very well.” The door clicks closed. Rather than returning to story hour, Wade bustles about the cabin. Bottles clink. Cupboards open and close. He adds a log to the woodstove. Crackle. Whine. Bang.
I focus on Robyn. We don’t have long. It’s up to her to finish explaining.
Before I can ask, she swallows, clears her throat, and says, “Where was I?”
“The Verity. And my mark.”
She offers a slow nod. Deliberate. As if choosing her next words. “What you must first understand is the very nature of the Verity. Humans have a tendency for darkness and light. To choose good or evil.” Palms upturned, she mimics the movement of a scale. “But no such mixture exists for the Verity or the Void. The Void houses no light. The Verity embraces no darkness. So when the Verity seeks a new vessel, it always searches out the purest heart—the person least likely to be swayed by darkness. A heart so true has the capacity to love like no other. And a love like that? It changes a person.”
“What does any of this have to do with me?” I shift. The hammock swings and creaks.
Reaching out, Robyn stills the hammock. Her gaze wanders. “Until now we’ve only hoped. Guessed. Waited blindly for the Verity’s return. To save us all. It wasn’t until you arrived that dream became a reality.” Two espresso eyes lock on mine.
“I’m not following.” Spit it out already.
“The mark on your face is proof the Verity lives—that Aidan lives. It’s a phenomenon Papa claims he’s seen only once before—on the queen herself. A mark appearing when one has been touched—loved—by the Verity’s vessel. Only death can release the Verity from its current home. King Aidan must still be out there somewhere. If he’d died, if the Verity had found a new soul to reside within, that person would’ve come forward by now.”
“Let me get this straight. You think the Verity’s vessel—King Aidan—touched me? Loved me?” Sudden heat ignites my neck. My marked cheek. “How is that even possible? I’ve had this mark since I was a baby. If what you say is true, the king touched me as an infant. I’m almost eighteen. If he’s your savior, where’s he been all these years?”
Robyn shrugs. “Who knows? Perhaps he’s afraid of what Jasyn’s become. It’s even possible the king and queen were imprisoned, hidden in the catacombs deep beneath the castle. But it doesn’t matter now. Because we have you.”
I turn my head to the side. Daylight wanes as shadows stretch across the cabin floor. “There must be some mistake. I’m nobody.”
Freak. Ugly. Hideous. Deformed.
Worthless.
The names I’ve been called all my life flood my memory. Every one of them digs its way in, expounds on the definition of me.
My shoulders slump. Don’t feel. Don’t care.
Clasping my hand, Robyn rushes on, “There’s no mistake. You are more important than you realize. The mark, it binds your soul to the vessel. Bound souls always find one another. Once you’re healed, you can lead us to him. If he’s locked away, we’ll free him. Then the rightful king can return the Void to its prison.”