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CHAPTER 46
It can’t be comfortable for Athene to hold me as she does, bent over my chair as I cry into her moonweave vest. Gregor is silent, watching us. Eventually I pull away, not wanting to ruin her clothes with my runny nose.
“Sorry,” I mumble, wiping my face with my hands and sleeve.
Athene backs into her seat with a smile. “It’s not the first time you’ve cried in my arms. You’re just a little bigger now.”
I look around, realizing we’ve been overheard by at least a dozen Selenae, who are all staring. Perhaps this wasn’t a conversation we should’ve had in public on a moonlit night. “Does everyone in the Quarter know who I am?” I ask, keeping my voice low, though I know the effort is pointless.
“Most everyone over twenty years does,” answers Athene.
“Because of what happened when I was born,” I say, and she nods. I chew the inside of my cheek. “Do many of them have the same hopes for me as you did?”
Athene glances at the people overtly eavesdropping. “To be honest, hardly anyone thought of you at all. Selenae don’t tend to concern themselves with magick-less outsiders.” She sighs. “As for any ‘hopes,’ I really only wanted you to have enoughmagick to prove that pure blood wasn’t necessary to preserve it. I never dreamed…” She gestures vaguely at me as her voice drifts off.
“One problem I foresee now,” Athene continues after clearing her throat, “is that you may give our people grand expectations but be something that will never be repeated. The combination of parents’ features in their children is by chance, which is why siblings can vary in looks and ability. We could spend generations trying to ‘create’ another person with your gifts and never succeed. Even if we did, that’s more power than any of us know what to do with.” She pauses for a few seconds to look pointedly at our silent uncle. “But I firmly believe you and other mixed bloods may save our magick from extinction. At the very least, you’re proof that there’s no harm in allowing it.”
“I disagree,” rumbles Gregor. “Catrin is proof of the danger that mingling puts us in. Fifteen Selenae, including my brother, died at the hands of a mob.” He gestures to his scarred face. “I was nearly killed for simply looking like him. All because of Hadrian shame over losing a daughter to heretics.”
Athene doesn’t have an answer for that. All I can think is how I don’t want to be seen as any kind of symbol, and certainly not as the person meant to save everyone. My gifts are just that—not something I’ve earned or achieved. Worse, there is no one equal or superior I can look to for guidance.
Or is there?
Magister Thomas has a brilliant mind, far greater to anyone I’ve ever met. Remi comes closest, though I’d never tell him that. They could have turned their intelligence to dominating others, but instead they’ve used it to glorify the Sun and inspire thousands with the Sanctum’s beauty, sacrificing their hearts and souls, and—in the architect’s case—his family.
And Simon, with his terrible gift for understanding the innerworkings of a monster, could easily surrender to the madness himself. He strives to use it in saving others, even at great cost to himself.
Where are my gifts needed the most? I suspect both Gregor and Athene would say that place is here, among people of my blood, but they’d be wrong.
I push back from the table and stand. “I need to go home.”
Gregor jumps up, nodding. “Yes. You can stay with me—”
“Not there,” I cut him off. “Nor with you, Cousin,” I tell Athene, who also rises to her feet. “I mean to go back to the architect’s home.”
The diagonal scar across my uncle’s cheek stretches down as his jaw drops. “No, Catrin, your place is here. With us. We’re your family.”
I shake my head. “I can’t simply forget everything I was before tonight. People I care about have died. Others are fighting an evil bent on destroying more lives. If my magick can help, I’ll use it.”
“You intend to waste your Moon-given gifts on people who’d spit on you if they knew what you are?” Gregor demands. “The high altum would never let you set foot in your precious Sanctum again.”
“Not everyone is so prejudiced, and you know it.” I tilt my head in the direction of Solis Abbey. “Besides, those are the very people who raised and cared for me when you abandoned your role as my guardian.”
Gregor leans his fists on the table as a vein bulges from his temple. “Do not seek to lecture me on matters you know nothing about.”
“I know enough,” I snap. “I know you sellskoniato the most wretched and miserable among us, profiting from their weakness while telling yourself they deserve it. That’s not strength, that’scruelty. If you had any real power you’d be a tyrant.” I meet his glare with my own. “Is that the real reason you want me back? Because you think I’ll help you get revenge for past wrongs?”
“Get out of my Quarter,” he growls. “Before I throw you out.”
“You already did that seventeen years ago,” I reply. “And as far as I’m concerned, it was the best thing you ever did for me.” I reach for the voidstone, but Gregor slaps it off the table.
“That is not yours,” he spits as it bounces across the cobblestones. “You will take nothing with you. You were never here.”
I’m done arguing with him. Turning away, I head for Athene’s, where I left my cloak. I half expect Gregor to follow to prevent me from staying longer than absolutely necessary, but he doesn’t. Athene quickly catches up and walks by my side.
“That argument rose faster than a harvest moon,” she says dryly.
“Our uncle is a hypocrite,” I reply. “He abandons me for years only to welcome me back once he thinks I have magick worth acknowledging. Then he seeks to dictate how I use my gifts.”
