Page 180 of Bone Year

The presence in the dark shifts. The slow heartbeat echoes in my ears, slow and soft.

“You already know, Maelisss Rossse.”

“Tell me anyway,” I demand.

“It isss not for me to ssspeak hisss name. He hasss withheld it from you, and he will give it to you himssself, when the time isss right.”

I close my hands into fists at my sides.

The grief I have been holding back starts rising in my throat, and I can’t let it through. Charlie, my father, the man who taught me everything.

“He knew, didn’t he?” I whisper. “Charlie knew I wasn’t his.”

The voice that comes back is softer than before.

“He knew and chose you anyway. He loved you, and the blood you carry isss not hisss, but every other part of you he ssshaped with hisss own hands. The healing isss hisss. The empathy for patientsss isss hisss. The way you hold a sssscalpel isss hisss. No blood will ever take it from you.”

I cough on a sob and quickly wipe my face. In the dark of the mirror, I feel the cold presence watching me.

I steady my breathing.

“Who applied for me to come here? Or did you summon me yourself?”

“I would have sssummoned you eventually, but it wasss Helena Raven, your mother, who applied for you.”

Finally a straight answer.

But how did she know?

My mother, who has not looked me in the eye since my father died. My mother, who according to this same mirror has been hiding me from my real father for my entire life.

She sent me here. To him.

“Why would she do that?”

“That isss not mine to give, sssweet child. Asssk it of her when you ssstand in front of her again. There are reasssonsss.”

I am going to ask my mother the next time I see her. I am going to look her in the face and ask why she sent me to him.

“Did my mother ever attend Ashwell Academy?”

“Sssshe hasss walked thisss campusss, but it wasss not to attend classsesss.”

So she was here studying corrupted polar bears and getting knocked up.

“Tell me what I am, since I am no ordinary human.”

“You are a blood mage, Maelisss Rossse, the sssecond born to your father’s line.”

The answer startles me.

“No, it can’t be. I— I can’t even use current. I have no power.” My voice has gone thin. “Is the headmaster my father?”

I choke on the question, because it can’t be. I can’t accept it. I won’t.

“You are asssking the wrong questionsss.”

I run my hands over my face, wanting to scream in frustration. I keep it together. I need to hurry. I can’t tell how much time has passed, but it feels like too long.