The blade doesn’t budge.
Why didn’t I inquire more about Stormy’s Calling?
“What . . . do . . . you . . . want?” Ky seizes a breath between each word.
“Only exactly what you have given me. The key to the vessel’s undoing.”
Me. My train of thought temporarily derails. “If you kill me, the Verity will leave King Aidan and find another vessel.” I duck beneath Ky’s arm.
“First, would you stop insisting I want to kill you? It is becoming redundant. And second, who said anything about King Aidan?”
“You can’t win this, Jasyn.” I press on, ignore questions. “No matter what you do, the Verity will always be out there. And one day it will imprison the Void.” I relish the words, feel their truth seep through my pores.
Jasyn flicks a thread of lint from his suit. “Do you truly believe I am so oblivious to the happenings and history of my own Reflection?” He tilts his head, eyeing me so penetratingly I have no choice but to look away.
Creepy.
“Take the rebels’ hiding place, for instance.” He faces the tapestry, extends an arm toward the Haven. “The vermin think they are so clever, hiding out on that hole of an island, a place that has been their prison all these years.” He folds his hands in front of him, Grinch-like smile unfurling. “The truth is, I have allowed them to remain there. They cause me no trouble, and I in turn let them live their lives, weeding them out one by one. Much less hassle to maintain them that way, would you not agree?”
“Need I remind you of Haman’s betrayal, not to mention the dozens of others who’ve surrendered to the Void? Decent men and women we trusted. Our numbers are dwindling . . .”
Preacher’s words float across my memory, the Scrib in me recalling his argument syllable for syllable. Jasyn has known of the Haven all this time? “Then why did Haman and the Soulless attack? Why now? He killed”—I swallow, forcing composure—“he killed someone.” Robyn. A pinch in my chest.
“Yes, well, I needed the rebels to know they are no match for me. I am keeping them right where I want them—fearful and in hiding. You have given them hope, and that is a dangerous thing. I am afraid casualties are inevitable.”
Robyn a casualty? Why, you mouth-breathing son-of-a-troll.
“But let us start from the beginning.” He ascends the steps once more, resuming his place five strides above. “Shall we commence with your mother?”
Despite the resident fear slinking up my spine, I can’t help but expel a relieved breath. Mom is safe. No matter what else happens, I’ve done what I came for.
Jasyn sits on the throne, rests his elbow on the chair’s arm, and leans his head against his extended thumb and forefinger. “I have searched for the vessel of the Verity for twenty-one years. But I have sought someone else too.”
Mom. My jaw goes slack. I don’t like where this is going.
Jasyn catches my eye with an iceberg glare. “Do not look so surprised. I am not the heartless villain everyone makes me out to be. When Elizabeth disappeared, I put every effort into finding her. If I thought the vessel was an enigma, Elizabeth was even more the conundrum. Where had she gone and why? I never harmed her. Never gave any indication I would do so.”
I spy the knife out of the corner of my eye. Slide my foot left an inch. All I need is a window. If I can’t summon the stubborn thing, I’ll have to get it the old-fashioned way. Then I can transport us out of here.
“It was actually your father who finally shed some light on the matter.”
Wince. Focus deterred—again. Please don’t say—
“Tiernan Archer’s only loyalty was to himself.” Jasyn speaks with all the enthusiasm of the cow from Into the Woods. “It took very little coaxing to get it out of him. A few hallucinations, a bit of torture. I do not believe I have ever encountered a weaker human being.”
Ky shifts. “Why would my father know anything about her mother?”
I turn to Ky. He should hear this from me.
Jasyn beats me to it. “No, no, no.” He chuckles. “Not your father. Her father.” He must take in Ky’s confused expression because he adds, “Do you mean to tell me you two have not been formally introduced?”
My head grows light. I sit on the bottom dais step to keep from toppling. This is not how this was supposed to go.
“Well then, allow me to do the honors. Kyaphus, may I introduce Tiernan Archer’s second child.”
Second child? What did I miss?
Cocking his head and narrowing his eyes, Ky moves toward me. “You’re Tiernan’s other daughter?”
Other? Does he mean Khloe?
“Did you know about this?” He crouches to my level. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I couldn’t.” I press a clammy palm to my damp bangs, smash them against my forehead. “It was my fault he became so angry. He adopted you because I was born a girl. His debt to Jasyn, the one you had to pay, was because of me. Tiernan was the reason my mom fled the Second. I thought if you knew you’d—”
“What, Em? That I’d hate you? Your opinion of me must still be pretty poor.” The hurt in his voice arrests my heart. “Do you really see me as the kind of man who would blame someone for their parents’ mistakes?”
I blink. He’s right. He’s so right. “No.” I reach out to him. “I don’t.”
He straightens. Steps away. “I thought you knew me better than that.” Turning his back on me, he adds, “I guess I was wrong.”
I rise. Take two steps. “Ky—”
“Give it a rest, El.”
My regard switches to the grand staircase.
Quinn descends the steps, fingers caressing the glossy rail. Click-clack, click-clack.
My insides knot, knot, knot.
When she plants her peep-toed feet on the throne room floor, Quinn transforms. Goth clothing remains, from lacy headband to fishnet tights, but the body beneath changes. Cascading yellow tresses shrink to her shoulders, darkening to deep cocoa. Her oval face rounds into a heart shape, and her eyes shift from ice-queen blue to ganache brown. Aside from her still-perfect skin, she could be my—
“Eliyana,” Jasyn announces, “may I introduce Ebony Archer . . .”
No. It can’t be true.
“. . . your half sister.”
THIRTY-ONE
Prince Charming
I have a sister?
I have a sister.
Two sisters if Khloe is Tiernan’s biological child as well.
“You should see the look on your face, El,” Quinn—Ebony says. “It’s the same one you made that time Blake dunked your backpack in the toilet. Classic.” She approaches Ky. Places a possessive hand on his arm.
He turns his head to the side and shrugs her off.
At least we can agree on one thing. Quinn—Ebony—is no one’s friend.
Seemingly unbothered by his rejection, she meets me at the dais steps. “Let me spin a tale for you, baby sis.” She twirls a finger in the air, taps me on the nose. “One in which the only happy ending belongs to me.” Her hand flutters to her chest.
I recoil. Clamber backward up the steps. I trip, fall. My hand slips, my wrist twists—crowe, that hurts.
Hips swaying, Ebony joins Jasyn on the dais and begins, “Once upon a time . . .”
Is ne’er what it seems. You had that right, Queen Ember.