‘Like your mother, Flint was born Ignitia. While his gifts were never dangerous like hers, they were exceptional. If it weren’t for his morehedonisticpursuits –’ I glower inwarning – ‘then he would’ve been more than a match for Ember. As for Renly …’
‘He has no gift at all,’ I finish sadly.
‘Not yet,’ Fox points out.
I exhale shakily, feeling my magic stir beneath my skin – potent in its impurity, the product of a secret so big it swallows me whole. Ineedto speak to Grandmother, yet part of me never wants to speak to her again. For years I believed myself to be twisted. Amonster. And she just let me.
‘I’m … I’m soangry,’ I whisper.
Charred logs crunch underfoot as Fox makes his way over to me and runs a hand across Cedar’s muscular flank. ‘I understand how you feel.’
‘How?’ I demand. ‘How could you possibly understand?’
Fox scratches his neck. ‘Here goes nothing,’ he mutters. ‘Remember when you asked why I was searching for the Eye of the Past?’
‘Yes,’ I reply. ‘You told me there were some questions you wanted the answers to, and when I asked what they were, you said, quite irritatingly I might add,You can’t have all my secrets, Storm Weaver.’
Laughter catches in his throat. ‘I must say, that was flatteringly verbatim. Exactly how many of our conversations have you memorized by heart?’
I flush.
Fox grins. ‘Anyway. These answers I was searching for – they were about my family.’
‘The Castellions?’
‘No,’ he says. ‘The Calloways.’
‘Why?’
‘After the Cleaving, when power like I’d never known burst out of me and almost destroyed the empire, I began to wonder whether there was something I was missing.’
I inhale sharply. ‘What’re you saying?’
‘I’m saying …’ Fox trails off as he rakes a hand through his hair. ‘I’m saying that Healer’s hands were not all I inherited from my grandmother.’
The ground seems to tilt beneath my feet.
‘You’re Demari too,’ I breathe.
Fox smiles. ‘Haven’t I always said that you and I are more alike than you think?’
My chest constricts and my arms fall to my sides as I take a stumbling step backwards.
‘Like yours, my mother was an Heir,’ he continues. ‘She too was forced to conceal her true abilities, even from my father.’
He reaches out to brush his fingertips lightly against mine, and I see Kestrel Calloway. I see her strange, beautiful magic. Barren forests bursting into bloom. Flowers enchanted never to die. A pair of falcon’s wings springing forth from her shoulder blades.
All I can do is blink.
‘Oh, and just one more thing,’ Fox adds. ‘Do you, by any chance, happen to recall saying that if you didn’t know any better you’d think I could …speakto Cedar?’
I turn my head to stare at him. ‘Yes,’ I say slowly. ‘Why?’
‘Well –’ Fox clears his throat – ‘that’s because I sort of … can.’
There is a long, stunned silence.
‘You … youwhat?’ I yelp.
