“Is your arm broken?” The question almost felt woven with genuine concern, even amid the lingering hiccups.
Lux winced at an inadvertent movement. “Definitely.” She released a controlled breath. “How is your ankle?”
“I’m sure it’s hideously large, but it bears weight.”
Branches continued to thrash above them. “Good. We shouldn’t stay here any longer. I’m not sure what damage I’ve done, but I don’t think this wood is the forgiving sort.”
Lux braced her arm as best she could, though it didn’t stop the hiss of pain from leaving her lips every couple steps. She could concentrate on nothing else. Instead, she counted on Morana to follow her, and to keep her eyes and ears open to any further threat around them.
“You’ve dropped something.”
“What?” Lux didn’t stop. The pain wouldn’t let her.
“A page from a book. You know, we were taught never to tear apart our texts.”
Lux did stop then, even as Morana’s tone wasn’t particularly vicious. She didn’t want her reading it. “I’ll take that back, thank you. And I didn’t tear apart anything. It belongs to my aunt.”
“You mean Riselda?”
Lux rolled her eyes, shoving the page deep into her pocket where it would hopefully stay put. “Yes, obviously. She’s the only one I have.”
A heavy silence fell for several heartbeats. One in which they avoided angry branches and furious roots. “I’ve always thought you knew. That this ‘aunt’ bit was built from a fondness between the two of you.”
Blood rushed Lux’s ears. “Knew what, Morana?”
“Riselda isn’t your aunt, for one. How could she be? She’s older even than I am. Than mytrueage. And she has no family.”
The blunt force of those words sent the air fleeing from Lux’s lungs. She gasped against it. “You’re lying.”
Morana walked ahead. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but your family died that day. I’m not sure what Riselda’s interest in you is, but it isn’t due to familial duty. If anything, I’d be wary of her.”
Even with the agony ripping through her shoulder, Lux almost choked out a laugh. Only her utter shock over Morana’s words held it back. The mayor’s daughter was as untrustworthy as they came, and Lux had been wary ofherfrom their very first interaction.
She is lying.
Lux couldn’t believe her.
“Your true age, is it? A glimpse of permanent death and now you admit to drinking lifeblood?”
Morana paused in her path, nearly causing Lux to collide with her. “I…”
“I already know, in case you’re attempting at a lie right now.”
Morana muttered a slew of unpleasantries. “Then why ask?”
Lux pushed them forward. “You, your father, Colden, the rest of yourlovelyfamily. Tell me how you’ve managed it. How have you managed to get away with immortality? Does not one old person recall finding you the same today as you were when they were a child?”
Lux saw Morana stiffen from the corner of her eye. She knew she risked hurting her by mentioning Colden, but thesequestions were too important in discovering what really went on inside Ghadra’s only mansion. When they trekked on, Morana steadfastly silent, limping and no closer to answering, Lux felt what little empathy she’d built evaporate.
“Wedeserve—”
“I heard you, all right!” Morana huffed, and winced, stumbling on her injured foot. “I’ve had two names all my life. Morana when I was born, one hundred and ninety-six years ago. Giselle through the middle, as Morana’s daughter. And Morana again, Giselle’s daughter. My family’s story is the same.”
“That doesn’t make sense to me. What dimwit wouldn’t realize you wore the same face?” She felt near to abandoning Morana to the wood if she didn’t tell the truth.
“We don’t.”
Lux stopped in her path, a new horror beginning to eat away at her. “You don’t what?”
