THIRTY-SIX
Ebony
Where are the others? Ky and Joshua. Preacher. Wren.”
Regina looks so much different now I know the plot behind her gaze. Funny how a person changes when they, I don’t know, turn out to be your ruthless mother?
“I left ’em back in the Fifth. There’s a Fairy Fountain beneath the palace in Oz where I used to live. I got tired of it o’ course, back then I mean. So many people bowing and groveling. It’s exhaustin’ for anyone.”
Oh, she really is a classic, isn’t she?
“What was the point?” My mind reels. She’s been with us the entire time? At the castle in the Second? Helping hide Elizabeth in the Fifth? Journeying to find my sister? “Why go off with Ky and Joshua? Why attack Nitegra Compound? You could have had your revenge on Elizabeth more than once. You flippin’ raised her, didn’t you?” Everything we thought we knew? Lies. Assumptions. Big fat Fs.
My mother leers. It’s the smile she gives when she’s about to transform. Except this time she becomes someone altogether new. Another persona. Another lie. Who is the real Isabeau? Does such a thing exist?
Regina thins, her skin fading into a shade neither dark nor light. I don’t even know how to describe it. The hue is other, does that help? My brain can’t register the color. I’d almost go so far as to say it doesn’t exist. Then again, here I am, looking right at her. It’s as if this color is being created here and now. A completely new shade made for Isabeau alone.
Her eyes are swirls of rainbow light, the irises shifting with every blink. Sapphire. Burnt orange. Lilac. Cinnamon. And don’t get me started on her hair. It appears as if it’s alive, locks curling on their own, securing themselves on top of her head. Wings grow from her back, bright crimson, making her appear as if on fire.
I back up. Ouch. Wall.
“The point, Ebony”—she comes toward me—“is this.” Her altered voice sets me on edge. Neither musical nor monotone, the sound is unsettling and soothing at once. “Revenge is a side note. Sure, it adds flavor, but as sweet as it may be, revenge is not the main course.”
Oh brother, she’s using food metaphors. Kill me now and never mind about cooking. I’ll find a different passion to pursue when this is over. Anything but what my mother spent doing as Regina Reeves for the past whatever years.
“If being immortal teaches you anything, it is patience.”
Riiiight. Because you were so patient with me when I was younger.
“As much as I weakened when away from my Fountains, never able to show my true self when apart from my shadows, I needed to learn all I could of the woman I believed would bear the answer to my prayers.” She comes so close I feel her breath on my face.
“El.” I look down, then back up at her, realization kicking me in the behind. “This was about El?” Again, I can’t help it, but I’m jealous. Everything is always and forever about my sister. Her mark. Her Kiss of Infinity with this guy or that. Saving her mom. Saving her. The queen of the Second. Vessel of the Verity. For once, I mean, just for like twenty-four hours, could anything be about me?
Sigh and I’m over it. Wow, that was fast. What was it, like, two seconds and I’m fine? Moving on? Not bad if I do say so myself.
“Eliyana is an anomaly. A Mirror like Aidan’s precious Ember. Vessel of the Verity with traces of the Void and Shadowalker. The Verity is meant to enter the purest soul, yet Elizabeth’s child seems to be like any other human. Which led me to ask myself, why? Why would the Verity choose her?”
Oh. My. Word. I know this one. For once, the answer lies at my fingertips. So simple. What El has is the answer to the Fervor Dragon’s riddle from the story Ky read. “She loves.” My downcast gaze lifts. Is it really this easy? “She loves like no one else.” I laugh out loud at that. “Her heart. The Verity chose her because of her heart.”
“Ah, the heart. Yes, what a tricky organ indeed. Needed for life, yet connected to the soul in a deeper way than any mortal could imagine.” She taps the mirrorglass crown. “Let me ask you, Daughter. Do you know where mirrorglass comes from?”
Ha. I know this one too. Thank you, Tide. “It was discovered in the Fourth.” I think of the thousands of glittering pebbles on the shore of Tide’s home Reflection. As rare as mirrorglass is, it seems to be everywhere. Maybe it’s not the substance that’s scarce but the wielding of it?
“Silly girl. Discovery of something does not an origin make.” She paces the room. Her hair continues to change styles. Her eyes mix new colors, ever altering as she always has. Her wings glow hotter, twitching as if ready to take flight. “You mentioned the Verity chose your half sister because of her heart.” She glares over one shoulder. “But do you know what the Verity did to mine? Or rather, what Dimitri did?”
The story of The Scrib’s Fate was tragic. The purest light giving up everything for a man who did not love her. “He broke your heart,” I say. Is this what compassion feels like? I want to reach out to her. To let her cry on my shoulder and help her heal.
“And do you know what became of my heart, Daughter? Do you?”
My brain hurts. All these questions. Is there a test later? Can I get an exemption because I am so not prepared? She waits. Watches. My eyes dart as I search for the answer I’m sure is right in front of my nose. I think of Once Upon a Reflection and the childlike Heartsong rhyme written in blue ink—a.k.a. sap—from Fairy Fountain–watered trees.
“. . . for as mere glass will shatter, her heart remains strong.”
My hands cup my mouth. I wish El could hear this. She’d flip. “Mirrorglass is . . .” I squint and really look at her for the first time since returning with the crown. “Mirrorglass comes from your—the Verity’s—broken heart.”
She claps a sarcastic, nonpraising clap. “Well done. You are brighter than I believed. You are, in fact, correct.” She adjusts the crown on her head. “This piece in particular was taken by none other than Dimitri himself. The first shard of my heart among thousands of pieces that shattered across the Reflections. At one time I ventured in search of them. Trying to collect them all, hoping if I could put my heart back together, I would be returned to my former glory.”
Her head turns this way and that. She brings some hair forward over one shoulder. “But in the end the task proved impossible. I would have to find another way to change the past.” She brandishes the Rose. “Which is where this little beauty comes in.”
The Rose. The Fountain. Take your pick.
“I come from the Garden. The Rose was my final parting gift. I plucked it upon my banishment, stored its life-changing dew. I had three small vials. That was all. Evers live outside of time, and as immortal as I am, I could not know what would become of me in the end. The Midnight Rose has taunted. For as much as a drop of dew allows the drinker to save a life, the only thing it did for me was take me on a recurring loop. Ever blood upon the petals mimics the dew, its life-giving properties similar to that of the Garden’s. Yet every attempt was futile. One sip and I ended up where I began. My deepest desire never matches up with anyone else’s need.”
So much to take in. I need to sit down. I slide down the wall. “None of this was about Elizabeth?”
“Oh, nonsense, dear, were you not listening?” Isabeau leaves me to sit on the stone-cold ground. “I raised her. Her safety has always been of the utmost importance. When I asked Haman for her new child, it was only to startle Eliyana and drive her to reach her mother that much faster. She had to be the one to save her mother. She needed to become the strong girl you have come to know today. Every step was to get her to where she is now—the Verity’s vessel. I planned all of this down to the very last detail. All to get her exactly where I want her. She had to come to me in the Sixth. I had to fail that day in order to succeed now. So her deepest desire lines up with my greatest need.”