Chapter Thirteen

When I awoke it was to a pillow in my arms and a few blankets draped over me. The scent if hyacinths filled my senses, reminding me where I was. Celia’s house. I cautiously sat up and looked around but the woman in question was nowhere to be found. A disappointed sigh escaped me.

I carefully stood, grimacing. Sleeping on the floor wasn’t the best idea I’d had in the past century or two. Looking around, I found a sheet of paper lying on the coffee table.

Tsukiyo,

You seemed exhausted, so I thought I’d let you sleep. I hope you don’t mind. I had to go to work, but I left some breakfast in the kitchen for you if you want it. I’m not a very good cook though so I understand if you don’t.

Um… Thanks for taking me out last night. I enjoyed dinner, and I’m sorry I made it awkward.

“You’re awake now?” Mayar trotted in.

“Why aren’t you with Celia?” I gave him sharp look. “She’s to be protected at all times, understand?”

“Your sister is watching her.” Mayar glanced toward the kitchen. “If you won’t eat your breakfast, I will.”

“…it’s MINE,” I growled, stalking toward the kitchen. Sure enough, Celia had plated breakfast and left it in the refrigerator for me. She had even put a little note on it with my name. “I want to destroy the Nightingale Family.”

“That’s nothing new.” Mayar tilted his head.

“I can’t forgive them for their treatment of my people and the other Underrealm races.” I shook my head and placed the plate in the microwave. “But…breaking even their offspring? I will never understand why powerful humans fail to cherish their families.”

“And before you know it, Celia will be gone like all the rest,” Mayar pointed out, sending a spike of pain through my heart. “Even if her family doesn’t kill her, humans don’t live long. Or do you intend to do something about that when you hardly know her?”

“I…” I fell silent as Celia’s delicate features, deep rose gold hair, and pale blue eyes flashed through my mind. What would it take to make her smile? The moment even a small one began to form in her lips, she always chased it away.

“You are hopeless.” Mayar sighed. “I’m going to take myself out for a walk.”

I shook my head and settled in for breakfast, choosing to make myself some tea to accompany it. Though she claimed to be an awful cook, the sandwich she had shared with me before, and now the breakfast she had left me, were both fantastic. The depth of flavors, the complementary undertones, even the plating were all wonderful. I had to wonder if her family was to blame for her lack of confidence, or if perhaps it was Emily’s ‘friends’ who were at fault. Celia’s insistence that she was an atrocious cook had to stem from something.

Once finished, I cleaned my dishes and put them away before striding through the human’s house. There was a glimmer of magic somewhere inside, pulling at me. Though it didn’t seem malicious, I found it strange that the ‘powerless’ woman had something truly magical lurking in her house. I hesitated outside her bedroom door for a split second before opening it and striding in. Plain at first glance, the room’s walls were a deep blue as was the velvet upholstery. I saw no artwork, and there were only a few important pieces of furniture in her room—a bed, a nightstand, and a dresser. There wasn’t room for much else.

Everything smelled of her.

I shook my head and strode toward the bathroom in search of the magic. It was accompanied by a dull hum by now. Through the stark white bathroom, I found a closet. Inside, under a few stacks of towels, I found an old box covered in black velvet. That was it. Frowning, I pulled the box out and took it back to the bedroom, setting it on the bed. The velvet had worn off in places, but the construction itself was sturdy. When I lifted the lid, I thought my heart stopped.

“The Mirror of Osrana?” I exclaimed, staring at the pale gold hand mirror. The back and handle were covered in intricate patterns and rare, flawless gems. Beside the Mirror was a folded piece of parchment that had been read many times. “Her family loathes her, so who would entrust…”

I fell silent when I unfolded the letter and found feminine handwriting.

Celia,

I’m sorry that this is all I can do for you as your mother. By the time your father gives you this for me, you will be grown, and I will be long gone. I regret nothing. Bringing you into this world was my purpose in life, the purpose I was willing to die to achieve. I couldn’t let the doctors take you from me and your father before you had been born.

Inside the box is my last gift to you. One day, you will be able to see it. I know you will. You will meet someone who will help you open your eyes and See our wonderful, twisted world for what it truly is.

Do not let your grandmother break your spirit.

Find my family. They will love you, embrace you, and cherish you the way I won’t live to do.

I love you.

Your mother, Aisla

She wasn’t human. I stared at the letter, astounded. Beside the name, Aisla, written in calligraphy only those with magical sight could see was the name: Arianrhod. Something compelled me to turn over the parchment, where I found more magic-infused calligraphy.

Tsukiyo,

I knew long before I became pregnant with Celia that the two of you would find each other, and that she would free you from that accursed book her grandmother created. That woman is a monster. I implore you to protect my child from her at all costs. Please. Look into the Nightingale matriarch, she has lived far longer than any human could. I believe she has done terrible, terrible things to maintain her youth. She will not leave Celia alone for long now that she’s destroyed her grandmother’s most prized possession.

Together, the two of you hold the power to save the races of the Underrealm or doom them entirely. If you wish to free the remainder of your people, please understand that this can’t be about just the Aloryi anymore. Take care of my daughter, and know you have my blessing.

Do not blame her father or her stepmother. They have done their best to protect Celia, but it will no longer be enough.

Lastly, do not tell Celia about this half of the letter or that you discovered the Mirror in her possession. I have Seen what will happen if you’re overheard.

Let her discover the truth on her own.

Arianrhod, Grand Oracle of the Aloryi

Stunned, I stood stock still and stared at the parchment in disbelief. The Grand Oracle had been missing for decades, but I had never imagined it was because she had run off with a human. We had assumed that she had been enslaved by one. Not…that she had married one. That she had entrusted the Mirror of Osrana to her daughter who couldn’t see it…she had incredible faith in Celia’s loyalty. My heart ached. I couldn’t imagine how Celia felt.

I quickly returned the box to the state I had found it in, then headed out of Celia’s room. The daughter of an Aloryi oracle and a sorcerer, yet she lacked magical sight. Her family believed her truly powerless. A frown spread across my face. Someone who was truly powerless wouldn’t have been able to summon me. No, her power was hidden or sealed. I was leaning toward the latter assumption at this point. Arianrhod’s warning wouldn’t have been necessary if Celia was going to remain powerless.

“You’re still here?” Mayar looked up when I strode into the living room and sprawled across the couch stomach-first. “Are you still sulking about her reaction to that dream of hers?”

“Dream? Ah. No.” I shook my head, though the mention made my heart sink. “That dream wasn’t my doing, anyway. It was all her.

“Yet you were so worried that she thought it was a nightmare!” Mayar chortled.

“I’m not an incubus. I don’t make a habit of walking into people’s dreams.” I shot the nighthound a foul look. “Her contrasting reactions were confusing. That is all.”

“Something is troubling you.” Mayar narrowed his eyes at me.

I considered how best to respond. “Have someone begin investigating Celia’s grandmother more closely. When was she born? How does she have so much power? What has she done with her influence? I don’t recall hearing of any prominent Nightingale sorcerers before her.”

Mayar slunk through a portal, and I let out a sigh. I should have returned to the Underrealm myself, but something was stopping me. Something other than Celia’s alluring scent and comfortable couch, anyway. After a moment of hesitation, I reached for the remote and turned on her TV. I flipped through the channels until I found a news channel.

Any lingering sense of contentment I felt left me. Dozens of Skydwellers and Underdwellers fell one-by-one to a small group of sorcerers wearing the Nightingale family coat of arms. Glowing streaks of energy rushed from the fallen and to the books held by the Nightingale sorcerers. The energy absorbed into the pages, creating dozens of sigils on the pages of several books. Nausea welled up within me as the panicked newscaster attempted to cover the story.

“Demons and Angels are real,” they said, “and the Nightingale Family and their trained specialists will save us from their wrath.”

Celia.

I rushed for the door with my car keys in hand.

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