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"That's another lie." I feel such hate; I'm nearly sick with it. "How could you?"
"It was all so very long ago, Gemma."
"And that excuses everything? You led that little girl into the East Wing. You killed her!"
"Yes. And I spent every day of my life atoning for it." A bird sings a hollow evening song from a branch. "Everyone assumed I had died, and in a way, I had. Mary Dowd was gone and in her place was Virginia. I made a new life for myself, with your father, and then Tom and you."
The tears fall hot and wet on my cheeks. She tries to take my hand, but I step away.
"Oh, Gemma, how could I tell you what I'd done? That's the curse of mothers, you know. We're never prepared for how much we love our children, for how much we wish we could protect them by being perfect." She blinks fast, trying not to cry. "I thought I could start again. That it was all forgotten and I was free. But I wasn't." Her voice is tinged with bitterness. "Slowly, I began to realize that you were different. That the long-dead power of the Order and the realms was starting again in you. I was afraid of that. I didn't want you to have that burden. I thought by saying nothing I could protect you until perhaps it would pass and fade into legend again. No more. But I was wrong, of course. We can't escape destiny. And then it was too late, and Circe found me before I'd had a chance to tell you everything."
"She didn't die in the fire."
"No. I thought she had until a year ago, when Amar came to me, told me she was using her link to the creature to find us all. She'd heard that one of us was a portal to the realms again. She just didn't know who." She smiles at me, but her smile is pained.
My tears stop. Anger rises like a new building, shiny-hard and attractive, a place I want to live in forever.
"Fine. You've completed your soul's task. You've told me the truth," I say, spitting out the last word. "Why don't you go on and leave me alone, then?"
"My soul's task is in your hands," she says softly in that voice that once sang me to sleep, told me I was lovely when I wasn't. "It's your choice."
"What could I possibly do for you now?"
"Forgive me."
The sobs I've been holding in check come spilling out. "You want me to forgive you?"
"It's the only way I can be at rest."
"What about me? Do you think I'll ever be at rest again with what I know?"
Her hand touches my cheek. I recoil. "I'm sorry, Gemma. But we can't live in the light all of the time. You have to take whatever light you can hold into the dark with you."
I can't think of anything to say. I never asked for any of this, and I've never felt more alone in my life. I want to hurt her.
"You were wrong about the runes. We've used the magic twice and nothing has happened."
Her eyes blaze. "You what? I told you not to. It isn't safe, Gemma."
"How do I know that isn't another one of your lies? Why should I believe anything you say?"
She puts a hand to her mouth, paces. "Then the realms have been left unguarded. Circe's creature could already have been here and corrupted one of us. Gemma, how could you?"
"I might ask you the same," I say, walking away.
"Where are you going?" she asks me. "Back," I say.
"Gemma. Gemma!"
I pass out of the garden. The huntress surprises me. I hadn't even heard her coming up behind me, her bow and arrow at the ready.
"The deer is close. Will you hunt with me?"
"Another time," I mumble through lips still thick with crying.
She bends to pick some berries, pops one in her mouth. She dangles them before me like a pendulum. "Care for a berry?"
She knows I can't eat the fruit. So why is she offering it to me?
