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“He’s the one my aunt and uncle went to stop,” I guessed.
She nodded. “I should have told you sooner. But no one expected you to grow so fast, Medra. You’re a miracle.” She squeezed my arm again. Her grip was not as strong as it should have been. I leaned against her, feeling her warmth, knowing it would soon be gone. “My precious miracle.”
She coughed, and I saw blood trickle down her face. She wiped it away with the back of her hand.
“There is a prophecy, Medra. One that Morgan would have told you about when she returned. But she’s not here now. I am. And... I don’t know. Perhaps it’s time you knew all of it.”
“What kind of a prophecy?” I asked, my heart speeding up.
“A prophecy that claims you will be the killer of kings. A prophecy that, interpreted one way, suggests you could be your grandfather’s downfall.”
“That’s why Sarrasine came for me,” I whispered. “Not because they actually wanted me. Because they want me dead.”
Odessa was silent for a long moment. “Probably. I think so. Or maybe your grandfather truly does hope he can use your powers to his own advantage. That’s the thing about prophecies, Medra.”
“What’s that?”
“They don’t have to come true. Your mother hoped you would spell her father’s downfall. She hoped for that with all her heart.”
Had she loved me because of it, I wondered? Only because of it?
“But your aunt refused to accept that it was the reason you existed,” Odessa went on. “She refused to let the prophecy determine your fate, your future.”
“And you?” I demanded, suddenly furious at my mother, furious at my aunt.
“The choice should be yours,” Odessa said, her voice heavy with fatigue. “The choice should always have been yours. But no one knew you’d be ready to make it so soon. How could they have?”
It was a fair point. I said nothing.
Odessa coughed again. “I think I need to lie down.”
I helped her recline, then closed my eyes as her breathing grew more and more ragged.
“I love you, Medra. You know that.”
“I love you, too,” I whispered. “Please don’t go. Please don’t leave me.”
“I know you’ll make the right choice, my dear one. I’ll always be so proud of you.”
She lifted a hand and touched my face with a finger stained with her own blood.
Then her hand fell. She did not lift it again.
I sat at the top of the tower and finally let the tears fall. There was no one left to see.
CHAPTER 25 - MORGAN
Death surrounded me. Followed me. It always had.
First my mother, whose death I would always feel partly responsible for. If she had not given me her magic, would she have been able to defend herself? Would she have tried?
Then Uther, that dark tormenter who had left so much to be desired as a father. My first kill.
I had spared Arthur only to have him discharge death upon so many innocents.
Then Florian.
Vesper.
