Queen of Myth and Monsters (Adrian X Isolde, #2)(88)

“What is this place?”

“This is my home,” she said. “Nalani.”

Once again, tears blurred my eyes. “It is beautiful,” I said, breathless.

“I always dreamed of bringing you here,” my mother said. “And look, it has happened. Dreams are wonderful, are they not, my daughter?”

I met her gaze again and my heart sank, giving away to a profound and painful disappointment. “So this is a dream,” I whispered.

Her smile was warm, but she shook her head. I was not certain if that was an answer to my question.

“Magic is not so serious,” she said. “It is many things—an essence that gives everything on earth life and an energy. You can harness that energy if you remain aware enough, but you have become so caught up in spells, in words, in shapes. You need none of that to call upon your power.”

“But…that is what I have always done,” I said.

“No,” she said. “You—no matter what incarnation—have always drawn upon the world with no effort. You only made spells to help women understand their potential when they could not feel it themselves.”

I wanted to tell her I had no idea how to do what she was telling me, but she spoke, as if she heard me.

“Trust yourself, Isolde,” she said. “Your soul has been speaking and you have not been listening.”

I felt almost as if I were being reprimanded, but she squeezed my hands and I focused on her touch—soft and warm and real.

“It is no fault of your own,” she said. “This world is afraid of powerful women.”

There was no greater example than the Burning. Our trauma had crossed lifetimes. It was in our blood; it lived in the air and earth; it whispered in the dark.

It had silenced us for too long.

“Trust yourself,” my mother said. “As I do.”

I studied her dark eyes, wishing I’d had her forever.

“I have needed you,” I said, my voice breaking.

She smiled, and though her eyes watered, I sensed she did not agree. She lifted my hand and placed a seed in my palm, curling my fingers tight around it.

“For when you return to your plane,” she said.

“What is this?” I asked, but her hands were already loosening around mine and I felt a sense of panic rise within me.

“Don’t let go,” she said.

“Mother!”

I was torn from her and broke the surface of the water, surprised when I found I was alone. I had felt as if I had been pulled with such force—I was sure someone else had to be with me. I looked around the quiet wood, but there was nothing other than an unsettling stillness to the world, and I knew it meant we were about to be plunged into chaos.

My hand was clenched, and as I uncurled my fingers, I found the seed my mother had given me. It was the size of my thumbnail and felt like a weight in the palm of my hand. I nearly burst into tears once more.

She was real. I had actually visited her.

I left the water, dressed, and hurried back to camp.

***

When I returned to the tent, twilight was upon us, and Adrian was gone, though I noticed a wooden goblet on the table. When I checked, it was full of his blood.

My heart seized a moment, both at his thoughtfulness but also at the implication. He did not wish for me to touch him.

I did not drink it.

I stored the seed my mother had given me and changed into warmer clothes quickly, in case Adrian was in search of me. But I found him only a few feet from the tent, speaking with two of his scouts.

He sensed my approach because he went rigid. It was an observation that both hurt and angered me. If anyone should feel uneasy, it should be me.

The scouts ceased speaking and bowed to me.

“Good evening, my queen,” said one.

“Good evening,” I replied. “Is there news?”

I did not think there would be, given that it was just now nightfall, but I was curious and worried. The two glanced at Adrian.

“You are dismissed,” Adrian told them, and my eyes narrowed, my face hot with frustration. The two bowed again, but I glared at Adrian.

“Are you going to dismiss my question as well?” I asked.

“I was only giving Sable and Lucia instruction,” Adrian said. “They will be riding ahead to observe Lara. They will report back in the morning.”

I did not think he was lying, but I did not like his coldness.

“Is this how you will treat me moving forward?” I asked.

Adrian’s hard eyes found mine. It was the first time he had looked at me with more than a passing glance since last night.

“How am I treating you?” he asked.

“Like you blame me for what is happening to you,” I said. My breathing was labored as I spoke because I knew these words would hurt, and they took every bit of my power to say. “Perhaps it is not Dis who is angry with me; perhaps it is you.”

Adrian’s eyes widened. “I am not angry with you,” he said, though he sounded so now.

“What you are doing…” I said, staring up at him. “Shutting down, dismissing me, that is what Dis wants. She wants to drive a wedge between us like everyone else. Are you going to let her do that?”

“This has nothing to do with her,” Adrian said. “I hurt you.”