He was very attached to the idea that Idris could know how to help, but I wasn’t so sure that was wise. Tonight had only emphasized to me that we didn’t know nearly enough about the male we were allowing to live here, and we’d have to put a stop to that, no matter if he turned out to have anything to do with Aisling.
Finally, Ambrose looked up and spotted us standing in the middle of the corridor, clearly waiting for them. He nudged Scion to get his attention, who seemed to think he was being attacked, and immediately raised a fist to–presumably–send Ambrose careening into the opposite wall.
“Hey!” I shouted. “Stop it!”
To his credit, Scion did stop. He froze with his arm still raised, and turned his head to look at me. “Lonnie,” he blurted out. “What are you doing there?”
“What the hell are you two doing?” I snapped back. “We could hear you all the way in the guest wing. You sound like spoiled children.”
Both Ambrose and Scion turned to look at me. Their expressions were nervous—something I wasn’t used to seeing from either of them. When the silence stretched on a beat too long, a feeling of unease began to wash over me.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, in a completely different tone.
Again, the awkward silence was almost palpable. Finally, Scion broke, stepping forward. “It’s your mother, rebel.”
A lump formed in my throat, and I already knew what he was going to say before I even spoke. “What about her?”
“She’s gone, love,” Ambrose said gravely.
“Gone where?” I demanded, uncomprehending.
“Dead.”
8
LONNIE
THE OBSIDIAN PALACE, EVERLAST CITY
There was a strange buzzing in the back of my head I recognized immediately as shock. Dead? How could my mother be dead? I’d just seen her. Just talked to her.
Just wrestled with whether to kill her myself.
Suddenly, a horrible realization hit me and my hand flew to my mouth. “So, I…”
“No,” Ambrose said quickly. “I don’t think so. She wasn’t burned, and you don’t have the power to simply end someone’s life by willing it so.”
He looked conflicted like he wasn’t entirely sure if that was true. Like he was wondering if I did in fact have that power, and we simply didn’t know it.
“What happened to her?” Bael asked, all the excitement of minutes before lost from his voice.
“I don’t know,” Ambrose said, sounding more bitter than I would have expected from him. “We went down to talk to her after…well, after you two went upstairs, and she was just gone.”
“But she was fine,” I cried, disbelieving. “I’d just left her, and I didn’t—” I broke off, my voice cracking.
A strange numbness washed over me, enveloping my body and mind in a thick fog. I felt worn out, as if I had been running for miles without rest. And yet, at the same time, I felt disconnected from myself, almost as if I was watching everything unfold from a distance. My emotions were dull and distant, elusive and unattainable. It was like being trapped in a dream, unable to fully grasp reality.
At that moment, a heavy realization washed over me. It was a deep knowing, a certainty that settled in my bones and made them ache. I knew with absolute clarity that I could never have followed through with killing my own mother. No matter how hurt or angry or betrayed I may have felt, the thought of taking her life was inconceivable to me. Her words and actions may have wounded me deeply, but they could never justify such a heinous act. My conscience would not allow it.
So then, the question became: Who did? Who killed her?
“What were you arguing about?” I asked suddenly, glancing up at Scion and then to Ambrose.
“Nothing important, Rebel,” Scion ran his hand through his hair. “Just what might have happened to her.”
I nodded dully. I’d thought as much.
Unlike other deaths I’d experienced, this felt unreal. I almost didn’t believe it, and likely wouldn’t until I saw her body formyself. Was it a sudden act of violence that occurred between the time I left her and when Ambrose and Scion found her, or did she simply pass away. With the truth now revealed, perhaps her life's mission was complete.