“Home is where your family is.”Asha’s voice hum in my ears as I set out with Jasce.
Thankfully, he bathed and put on a surcoat before taking me to the city.
He glances over at me as we walk. “Are you sure you want to speak to the healer?”
“I have to. I need answers.”
His brow furrows. “What if she tells you things you don’t want to hear?”
A frown tugs at my lips as I skirt around an older man carrying an armful of books. “It doesn’t matter. I still need to speak to her.”
He nods and falls silent again.
The sun hovers over the Hyacinth River as we arrive at the purple cottage a short while later. My nerves knot in my throat as I think of finally gaining answers. Hopefully, those answers will lead me back to my family.
Jasce knocks, but nobody responds. We exchange a look, then he tries again.
Nothing.
He shoves the door open, and I follow him into the dimly lit room. As my eyes adjust, I take in the empty room, and then…the woman lying on the floor in a pool of blood.
My heart slams against my chest as he moves to the body, kneels, and presses his index finger to her throat. His face pales as he snaps up and jerks his gaze around, searching the room.
Nothing else stirs. No animals. No people. No wind through the open window.
Harder and harder, my heart slams against my chest as I move to crouch next to the woman’s lifeless body. The tattoo beneath her mouth tells me what I don’t want to accept. She’s the healer that gave the portrait to me.
Jasce grabs my arm, pulling me to standing. “Stand by the door.”
I shove my hand against my mouth, stifling the strong urge to scream.
“Go,” he says, his tone frigid, and I obey, weakly moving to the door as he kneels again and says words too low for me to understand.
No!
Please!
I look away, wanting things to be different, wanting her to still be alive, but when I glance back, she still lies there, her body motionless.
If only we had reached her before this happened. We might have saved her, and I would have answers. Now, I’ll never have answers.
My body trembles as I turn to face the wall and lean my forehead against the cool stone. It’s over. My life is over.
I’ll never see my sisters again.
ChapterThirty-Five
Jasce buildsa pyre on a hill overlooking the river, then he calls on his magic. The golden flecks in his eyes spark in the sunlight as he lifts his palm, speaks words in our ancient Hematite tongue, and a flame bursts to life at his command. The heat sears my cheeks, and I step back. But I don’t look away, not from him, not from the flames casting shadows over his strong features.
The fiery tendrils dance around his hand as he steps forward and catches the pyre on fire. The flames crackle and pop, consuming the wood and throwing a warm glow over the hillside.
My chest aches as the inferno consumes Mazaline’s body. This shouldn’t have happened to her.
I stare up at the blue sky, hating that it’s so perfect, so serene when someone else has lost their life. It should turn gray, and it should pour big, sorrowful raindrops on top of us.
Jasce stands stiffly next to me, his jaw hard, his stare locked in the distance. There’s a part of me that wants to comfort him, even though I do not know why he would need my comforting.
She’s just another healer from House of Silver to him. I saw the evidence beneath her cloak, the silver phoenix etched into her surcoat. Why she would wear it here is beyond my comprehension.
