Shattered Truth

I stare at the photo. I can't pull my eyes away from it. I can't even blink. It's my father, when he was much younger. It looks like it was taken around the same time that Mother became pregnant with Cecily. He's smiling broadly, the wind tossing his carefully styled hair around his head. He's standing beside a slender woman with striking green eyes, tanned skin, and long red-tinted brown hair with sun-kissed streaks.

She looks exactly like Bandit, minus the Elemental Marks on her face. I finally set the picture back inside his desk drawer. I had come in looking for the book about Ridenvell that he's been reading non-stop lately. And while rummaging through the drawers, I uncovered this photo, as well as several others of the same woman. Bandit's mother. It has to be. And she knew my father. From the looks of some of the photos, the intimate way they stand together, it's a good bet that they knew each other very well. I back away from the desk carefully, as though if I move too suddenly the entire world will shatter into a million, tiny pieces that will never fit back together again.

How can my life have changed so much in less than a month? My breath comes slowly, sounding ragged in my ears. I leave the study, shutting the door quietly. I wander out of the house, not sure where I'm going. My feet just move of their own accord. I head away from town, not wishing to be surrounded by noise and people. I still feel like everything could collapse in on itself and I'll cease to exist.

I should have figured it out sooner; Father has been showing Bandit an awful lot of fatherly attention lately, ever since she stopped wearing her scarf. He must have recognized her instantly. My stomach lurches. I don't know if I should be angry, or confused, or maybe sad. I find myself at the old cemetery used by noble Elementals. I push the old wrought-iron gate open, and wander down the rows of headstones. Finally I reach the Daggyrmir Crypt. I sit down outside and pull my legs up against my chest and wrap my arms around them. I have a view of the town and the sea from here, high up on the quiet hill. Several tears find their way out of my eyes and trail silently down my cheeks. I don't wipe them away. I'm not sure how long I sit there, but it's late afternoon, almost evening, when I finally stand up. I should return home before Father and Kingsley start to worry.

Assuming Father will worry at all, anyway. Maybe his new daughter, the one he had with the woman he clearly actually loved, will have his attention so occupied that he won't notice I'm gone. I want to shake away the bitter thought, but it clings stubbornly to the edges of my mind. I have my head down, so lost in my turbulent thoughts, that it takes me a moment to realize that the gate is shut. I'm positive I closed it on my way in. The hairs on the back of my neck rise, and I glance around uneasily, feeling like eyes are boring into me. But the cemetery is still. I approach the gate warily. I've just placed my hand on the gate to push it open when the dark figures leap out from behind the headstones. There are three of them. I push on the gate, bolting down the hill.

One of them grabs me from behind, and a scream tears raggedly from my throat. I kick and flail. "Put me down!" One of them slaps me hard in the face. I taste blood in my mouth.

"Shut the bitch up," the one holding me growls. He tries to force his hand over my mouth, and I sink my teeth into it. Even with his gloves on, I can tell I've hurt him. He swears, jerking his arm away from me. I struggle free and try to run again, but one of the others catches me easily as I dart by.

"I love it when they struggle," he says, something dark and cruel twisting his voice, making the words sound even more frightening.

"You won't get away with this," I gasp.

"Don't count on it, Daggyrmir," he spits. Knowing I'm trapped, I scream again, as loud as I can. I doubt anyone will hear it, but it still seems to make my captors nervous, and I pray that my panic has affected the ocean and its creatures yet again. It's the only chance I have. Something heavy collides with my skull, and the world vanishes.

***

I wake somewhere cold and dark. My head and cheek are throbbing. I blink in confusion for a moment, and then it all comes flooding back. My father's pictures, the cemetery, the attack. I squirm against my bonds and fight to spit out my gag, but it's no use. The ropes are cutting sharply into my wrists and ankles, and I have to fight not to choke around the cloth in my mouth. I want to scream, even though my throat is raw from all my earlier screaming. I sit there in darkness, willing my eyes to adjust so that I can get a better idea of where I am.

Finally, after what must be hours, I hear footsteps. The door swings open, and I'm blinking rapidly against the harsh light that suddenly fills the room.

"She sure puts up a fight," a man's voice says. "She almost took my hand off."

"You have no idea what satisfaction it gives me to see her like this." My heart stops. I know that voice. One of the figures steps inside the room, and I can see the face clearly. A face I know all too well, although I've never seen its features look so cold before.

"You want us to dispatch her now?" the man asks.

"No, not yet. I want hers to be slow."

My blood turns to ice in my veins as my mother stares down at me, hatred gleaming in her eyes.