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CHAPTER 66
My three days are up. Every night until this one has been full of songs and stories and lessons in moonlight, but this time the darkness is needed to hide our departure. A moonstone of my very own hangs from a silver chain around my neck, though the new voidstone bracelet remains in a pocket. I’m still a little afraid of it. My cousin says I don’t need to trim my magick as most Selenae do, but I should practice in case someday I need one sense above all others.
Athene hands me a small bag. “Some extra moonstones,” she tells me. “And some bloodstones. Try not to need them.”
I tuck them in my vest. “Thank you. For everything.”
“I wish we had more time. There was so much I wanted to teach you.” She settles a satchel on my shoulder, her usual brisk manner noticeably gentled. “But the Selenae community outside Londunium trains the best physicians. You’ll do fine there.”
That’s where we’ve decided to go. The Brinsulli capital isn’t that far away, but it’s across the narrow channel, and the chances of Simon being recognized are much smaller. Between the Selenae and some of Magister Thomas’s old colleagues, we hope to find a place to live and work. I also have a special lettertucked deep in my bag for the architect’s wife, if she’s still living. He doesn’t expect her to come back after all these years, but he hopes she can at least forgive him.
Gregor stands awkwardly next to Athene. We’d quarreled again when he insisted I could stay in the Quarter and the provost wouldn’t be the wiser, but I refused. I think my uncle believes I’m choosing Simon over my Selenae family. Maybe I am, but it’s not out of spite. As I pivot to face him, Gregor pulls an embellished moonweave pouch out of his shirt and tugs the drawstring open. A pearlescent glow from within tells me what’s inside.
“How many moonstones do you think I need?” I ask, trying to lighten his solemn expression.
He tips the bag out into his hand. “This one is different.”
The stone looks the same until the moonlight hits it and casts the light back with a rainbow sheen rather than a soft white radiance. A closer look with enhanced sight shows me the colors splitting inside the stone and bouncing around as through an endless maze of corridors. It’s beautiful.
Gregor wraps his fingers around the stone and closes his eyes for a few seconds. Then he reopens both and offers it to me. “It is the most rare kind of moonstone. What it absorbs it holds forever.”
I swallow. “And what is that?”
“Thoughts,” he says. “Memories.”
Gooseflesh rises on my arms as he places the colorful stone in my hand. “Whose does this hold?”
“Mine.” Gregor nods. “Go ahead.”
I close my eyes and clench the moonstone against the white scar on my palm, wondering if there is something else I should do, when the image of two people appears in my mind. The woman has waves of chestnut hair and a laughing mouth setover a straight and narrow nose I’ve seen in mirrors. Her eyes are hazel like mine are—or were—while the man holding her close has the silver ring around his irises that I know is coming to dominate mine. He looks like I would expect a young Gregor to appear, were he not so scarred or his nose crooked. The smile he wears is more shy than the woman’s as he gazes at her. He leans down, and she runs a pale hand through his dark curls. They kiss, and their skin is silver and gold where it meets.
“Stella,” Gregor whispers. “And Iason.”
Tears come so fast my eyes are forced back open. Though Athene had told me my parents’ names, I never heard my uncle utter them until now. The pain in his voice tells me it was grief, not anger, that chained him for so long, and it was that anguish—not resentment—that had made him give me up seventeen years ago. I nearly drop the memory stone in my haste to wipe my cheeks. “Thank you.”
“It’s been so many years it’s almost impossible for me to remember their faces without help.” Gregor takes the stone back and drops it into the moonweave pouch. Then he ties it shut and holds it out to me. “I want you to have it.”
I shake my head. “I can’t. That’s your memory.”
“Which makes it mine to give.”
I glance at Athene nervously, but she nods. Finally, I accept my uncle’s gift. Saying thank you again seems trite, so I hold it to my lips before putting it in the pocket closest to my heart. “I’ll take good care of it.”
He smiles, and I see my father’s in it. Then he offers an arm to Athene, and they leave for the Moon Pool together without further words.
Remi has been waiting impatiently for his turn, and he sweeps me off my feet and into a hug as soon as their backs are turned. “I’ll miss you more than you know, Kitten.”
I squeeze back just as tightly. “You promised never to call me that.” Truthfully, I don’t mind anymore.
“Yes, well, that was a conditional promise.” Remi sets me back down, then blinks several times and kisses my forehead hastily, before turning to Simon. “Farewell, Venatre.”
Using that title was definitely meant to needle Simon, but he only nods. “My thanks for everything you’ve done.”
Now Magister Thomas embraces me, his tears soaking his beard and my hood, and suddenly what I’m leaving behind is more than I can bear. “I don’t think I can do this, Magister,” I gasp.
“But I know you can, my dear.” The architect leans back and frames my face with his hands, and I notice a third streak of white extends back from the hair by his left ear. “And I’ll see you again someday. That’s why I can let you go.”
“I love you,” I whisper.
