Page 168

“She … endures. You asked how I was doing this, and the truth is I’m not sure. I don’t feel more powerful. If anything, quite the opposite.”

I gestured to the window. “That city … Is this where you are now?”

She gave a tinkling laugh. “Oh, how I wish I was back in Numenos. No, my view is much gloomier than what those panes show.”

I swallowed. “Right. How are things going there?”

She glanced past me, looking at the windows and their impossible view of sweeping fae towers and curling spires. “Poorly,” she said, with false brightness.

“Orcades …” I didn’t want more details, and yet I needed them.

She plucked at a harp string with one perfectly manicured finger. Why were hers so perfectly inaccurate in the dream while mine were embarrassingly true to life? “There’s been another wave of the plague. I don’t know how it will have impacted your school, but here it’s all but taken out the nearby village.”

“I see. I’m sorry.”

“Yes, well, I’m rather sorry, too. The highbloods residing there were infected first. Then the blightborn were simply doomed. I doubt they had time to run. There were children among them.” Her fingers strummed the strings. I knew she had lived far longer than most people. She had lived through plagues and famines and wars. But she was fae, and so she had survived, endured, thrived.

“And the Veil?”

Orcades shrugged. “Weaker but still standing. Just as we anticipated.”

The ballroom was too beautiful for this conversation. Too full of sunlight. Too gilded.

“What about the guardian? The Bloodmaiden, have you been able to speak to her?”

Orcades sighed. “Guardian. You mean Blake’s mother?”

I nodded slowly. “You said she was a goddess once. Doesn’t that imply she can live forever?”

Orcades looked at me with sympathy. “My darling …”

I felt heat rise in my cheeks. “Just tell me.”

“I’m not trying to patronize you,” she said hastily, “but as you may remember, even gods can fall. You should know that better than anyone.”

I felt weary with resignation. “So you haven’t been able to speak to her.”

Orcades shook her head. “I’m sorry, my love. I know you were hoping for better news for his sake. But if there was a chance, it passed when Marcus and Catherine began their brutal attack. Blood magic. Dragon fire. Whatever thing is inside the Veil, whatever power is supporting it even now … it is busy. And it has been torn apart in unimaginable ways.” Orcades met my eyes. “You must tell Blake,” she said, not unkindly, “that his mother is gone.”

My throat felt tight. “Do you think she’s … suffering?”

Orcades paused. “If you believe it will be a comfort to him, you may tell Blake his mother is not in any pain.”

I stared at her. “But is that the truth?”

She shrugged. “What do you think?” She tilted her head. “You love him. You wish to ease his pain.”

“Yes, but I don’t want to lie to him,” I said.

Another shrug. “People lie about many things. The best lies are the ones we tell to stop someone from hurting.”

I had a bad feeling she was right about that. “What do you think being part of the Veil is like?” I asked.

She paused her strumming. “I can’t imagine. Countless women offered to its power. Used and bled.” Her violet eyes lifted to mine. “No, my dear, I truly can’t imagine.”

My lip wobbled oddly. “But isn’t that exactly what happened to you?”

“You did not offer me,” she pointed out immediately. “I offered myself.”