“Kira?” The name came out strangled. “She would’ve been too young when my mother died.”
“About thirteen,” Trew said, his voice steady despite the impossible thing he’d just suggested. “But I know what I saw, Isi. The build. The red hair. The way she moved. This woman had that particular predatory grace I’ve only seen in her.”
I pulled away from him, needing space to process this. Pherin launched from my shoulder and circled the room, her agitation mirroring my own thoughts.
Had Kira murdered my mother?
The pieces wouldn’t fit together properly. I tried to force them, to make sense of what Trew was saying, but they kept sliding apart. Kira was one of Trew’s trusted advisors, well vetted. If she’d betrayed us, hiding something this dark, it cracked everything.
“Tell me what you know about her,” I said. “Everything.”
Trew ran a hand through his hair, and I recognized the gesture as one he made when sorting through difficult information. “She came through the Rite of Bonds about a year ago. Bonded with her death adder immediately after. Her combat abilities wereexceptional, far beyond what most warriors display even with years of training. And she’s incredibly smart, strategic. I promoted her to my advisory team seven months ago.”
“Where did she come from?”
“A village a few hours from Syllavar’s castle. She has two brothers, both younger. Her parents are still alive.” He frowned, remembering. “I met them after her promotion. Her father has red hair, her mother’s is dark. They seemed ordinary enough. Proud of their daughter’s achievements.”
“So if it wasn’t Kira,” I said slowly. “Then who could it be? Is there a relative or an older sister no one knows about?”
“You only saw her for a moment. Her back was turned as she fled, so I didn’t see her face.”
Pherin landed on the windowsill, peering out as if searching for answers in the courtyard below. Her tiny body remained tense, ready to transform and fight threats before they could reach me.
“It doesn’t make sense,” I said. “Why would a thirteen-year-old girl be involved in my mother’s death? And she’s from Syllavar. How would she even get into this castle? That shimmer. Her disappearing. Can she travel like Velacross?”
“I don’t know.” Frustration bled through Trew’s words. “But I’m certain about what I saw. The same red hair, build, and movement. It was distinctive.”
We sat in silence, the impossible puzzle between us.
“We’ll keep it in mind,” I said finally. “But for now, it isn’t something we can act on without more information.”
Trew nodded.
“We need to question the woman in the dungeon as soon as possible,” I said. “That’s our biggest priority. She met with my mother multiple times and in secret. Whatever they discussed, it was important enough to hide it from my father.”
“She might know about Velacross and the veil. About what your mother could do.” Trew moved closer, his hand finding mine. “There was magical residue at the top of those stairs. If someone traveled through the veil at that moment, there could’ve been others on the landing when your mother fell. People young Isi couldn’t see.”
“Mae didn’t see anyone else at the top of the stairs when she arrived,” I said. “You verified that in her memory.”
“Whoever else might’ve been there could’ve already traveled through the veil.”
The implications made my head spin. My mother, practicing veil-travel on the landing at the top of the stairs. Others present, leaving before they could be seen. A push or a disturbance or an accident that sent her falling to her death.
And the one woman who’d witnessed it all had been locked away for years. As punishment or to keep her silent.
“You said the woman in the dungeon looked weak,” Trew said. “Sick. Fates know what years in those conditions have done to her.”
I thought of the woman’s gaunt face, her sunken eyes. The way she’d moved with the careful slowness of someone whose body had failed long ago.
“Even if we reach her, she might not talk,” I said. “She helped me escape, but that doesn’t mean she’ll trust us enough to share what she knows.”
“Or she might be too broken.” Trew’s voice gentled. “Years of isolation can destroy a person’s mind. She may not be capable of coherent conversation anymore.”
Pherin swooped down and landed on my shoulder.Brave woman. Help.
“We will,” I said.
But the obstacles stacked between us and that goal felt insurmountable. My father watching me closely. Guards were stationed at my door at all times. The castle was on high alert, and everyone was suspicious, anticipating the next threat.