The Bound (Ascension #2)(98)

“I’m not Serafina,” Cyrene said, latching on to the wall.

The women looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

“You mean…this isn’t a dream?” the second woman asked. “I could have sworn we were sleeping again.”

“Sera only shows up in dreams. That was a long time ago.”

“Did you…know Serafina?” Cyrene asked carefully. A splitting headache was ripping through her, but she felt more alert with the strangeness that was happening before her. “Domina Serafina?”

“Well, she was just a Doma when we knew her,” the first woman continued. “She didn’t become Domina and rule the council until a few years later,” she rambled.

The second woman jabbed her in the side.

“Oh!” the first woman squeaked.

“What is going on?” Cyrene asked.

Both women closely studied her.

“You’re not a vision?”

Cyrene shook her head.

“Then, who are you?”

“My name is Cyrene Strohm. I’m an Affiliate from Byern. I came to Eleysia with Prince Dean.”

Both women recoiled.

“That can’t be.”

“An Affiliate?”

“No, there hasn’t been one in years.”

“Certainly not one like her.”

“Um,” Cyrene said, “excuse me?”

“Don’t mind my sister. She’s always been a little hotheaded,” the first woman said.

“And you’re as cold as ice,” she spat back.

“Don’t even start with me, or I’ll make you wish your flames could withstand an ice storm.”

“Excuse me!” Cyrene said louder, halting their fast speech. “You wouldn’t happen to know anyone by the names of Matilde and Vera, would you?” Her heart leaped with hope that, perhaps through all of this horrible mess, something good would come of it.

“Where did you learn those names, child?”

“Basille Selby sent me here to find two women named Matilde and Vera. You’re them, aren’t you?”

“Basille Selby,” they said in unison.

“Yes. He gave me a book,” Cyrene said. She felt her body weakening and slumped forward. “I’m sorry. I…everything hurts.”

The second woman walked forward. She reached her hand out and touched Cyrene’s face. She took a deep breath, her eyes widening. “How much did you use?” She turned back to the other woman. “You’re going to need to do this.”

Her sister stepped forward until she was eye level with Cyrene. She cupped Cyrene’s face in her hands and closed her eyes. After a pregnant pause, Cyrene felt ice ripping through her body. Her teeth chattered, and she arced away from the woman’s touch, but she held on tightly.

Then, suddenly, it was over, and Cyrene was left with a lingering chill in her bones. But everything else was gone. She was completely healed. Her headache was gone. Every ache and pain in her body was removed. Her body naturally healed quickly, but this was more.

This was magic.

“I am Vera,” the woman whispered. “And this is my sister, Matilde. Though we do not go by those names at court in this generation. You can call me Mari, and Mati goes by Kathrine.”

Cyrene nearly sobbed. “I have been looking for you everywhere.”

“I assure you, Cyrene, we have been looking for you for much longer.”





Matilde and Vera. Kathrine and Mari.

Whatever they chose to be called, it didn’t matter to Cyrene. All that mattered was that they were real.

They were real. They were here. And, as much as she hated to admit it, Basille Selby was right. They had found her.

Running footsteps pattered on the ground behind them. Cyrene stood hastily and turned to face whoever was coming their way. She almost put herself in front of Matilde and Vera to shield them from the intruders, but then she realized how ridiculous that would be. Two Master Domas who had managed to evade notice for two millennia had to be infinitely more powerful than she was, and surely, they needed no protecting.

Avoca rounded the corner. “Cyrene! You’re alive! Oh Creator! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you.” She looked between Cyrene and the two women at her sides and frowned. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

Matilde purposely tottered forward. “Well, if you aren’t the spitting image of your mother.”

Vera shook her head. “Grandmother, I’d wager, Kathrine.”

Avoca frowned. “What?”

“We have been gone from Eleysia for too long, it seems,” Vera continued.

“Absolutely too long,” Matilde said.

Avoca’s eyes were as big as saucers. “Cyrene, who are these people?”

Ahlvie and Orden appeared around the corner. They both doubled over with their hands resting on their knees.

“Creator, Avoca!” Ahlvie cried. “Warn me before you go running off like that.”

Orden seemed to assess what was going on and straightened up. His chest was still heaving from exertion. “What’s going on?”

Matilde raised an eyebrow at Cyrene. “Friends of yours?”

“Yes,” Cyrene confirmed. “This is Avoca, Ahlvie, and Orden.”