Page 107 of The Iron Dagger
On Hara’s beach, only the water offered insight. The depths revealed untold stories and threads of memory that brushed her arms and legs like seaweed. She had only to grab hold and pull. But the sand was barren, featureless and blank, with hazy shapes in the distance that were obscured by mist, the way the future appeared to her Sight.
As she and Gideon walked along the spiral corridor, Hara studied the eerie way the upper levels ascended into darkness. They could reach them, if they cared to.
This was how her mother saw the past, the present, and the future. Levels to climb and descend, going on forever in either direction. They passed dimly lit rooms and halls, and Hara knew that they would find her mother somewhere on this level.
She had been here before in her dreams as a child. Now she knew that they were brief glimpses into her mother’s present. It felt strange and nostalgic, seeing it in person.
The very air smelled of her mother, and a yearning instinct quickened her steps. She glanced in each room as they passed, her heart in her throat. Most of the rooms were empty, while others resembled rooms at the palace. One had gnarled trees and vines covering what looked like their abandoned hut in the mountains.
Then a voice rang out behind them.
“Who are you?”
Hara stopped dead, and she turned.
Her mother stood just a few paces away, watching them warily. She was exactly as Hara remembered her. No new lines etched her face, and her hair was long and thick. She looked barely older than Hara herself.
“Mother,” she breathed.
The woman took a step forward. “What did you call me?”
“Mother, I’m Hara. Your daughter, Angharad.”
“My daughter is a young girl,” said her mother, tilting her head slightly. “Are you not . . . my past self?”
“No, Mother. I swear to you, I am Hara,” she said desperately.
“Hara . . . but . . . how long has it been?” asked her mother, bringing her hands to her mouth.
“Twenty years since you were captured,” said Hara, and her voice trembled. Had she not aged in all this time?
“How can that be?” her mother said, looking away from them with lost eyes.
“How long do you think you have been here?” asked Gideon beside her.
After a long moment, her mother turned toward them, looking slightly dazed.
“It feels as though it has only been a day. But you . . .” She stepped toward Hara and hesitantly reached for her. Hara walked forward until they were only a step apart. She closed her eyes as her mother caressed her face with cool fingers. “Oh, my little Hara. So much lost time.”
Their arms came to wrap around each other then.
The ache and the unknowing that had festered for years, like sores that refused to heal, caused Hara’s tears to spring free. She remembered her mother’s embrace as a child, warm and all-encompassing. But now it was different.
Now they were of the same height.
Her mother took them to a small room, unadorned except for three straight-backed chairs that appeared. The room had been empty when they had passed it by earlier.
They told her mother everything that they knew of the coup and what had happened afterward, and she listened in round-eyed horror. Then Hara told her of her life with Aunt Merowyn and all she had learned of healing and her life in the village.
Her mother laughed to hear her tales of squabbling with Aunt Merowyn, the spoiled court child rebelling against the brusque naturalist. To her mother, all this had happened only a few days prior. Her lovely face was untouched by age, and Hara could see who Seith had fallen in love with. Hara found it wonderful and strange and a little melancholic.
When they told her of Hara’s return to Montag in order to find her, warmth softened her scolding.
“It was so risky of you to come here, Hara. I can’t believe you would be so foolhardy.”
She was quiet for a time, and Hara was desperate to know what she was thinking. What must it be like to realize that decades had passed by without you?
“Until just a few moments ago, I thought my little girl was safe and hidden in the south. I thought my sister was waiting for you. And now I hear that she is long dead, and you . . .” She raised watery eyes to Hara. “I missed your life.”
