“We didn’t go in your horror dungeon!” spat Jilly as she stalked by.
Avena swallowed her emotions. She wanted to hug Jilly and take away her pain. Losing Chames had hurt, but Jilly and Smiles—his real name was Phelep—had been married for five years. They’d known each other as children. She’d had the support in her life gouged out and replaced with a monster and hadn’t even realized it.
Her father shook his head as he watched Jilly vanish. “Should just unleash her on Dualayn and be done with it.”
“Yeah,” Avena said. Part of her wanted to let Ōbhin or Jilly or anyone kill Dualayn. However, it went against all the teachings of Elohm. It would stain their souls. She had an obsidian mind in her head now. She was already touched by darkness. If she gave in to the worse impulses of her soul, what would happen to her when she died?
Would she be too weighed down to rise up to Elohm?
And what about the cost murdering him would put on Ōbhin? she asked herself. He would do it for me, and it would be one more burden for him to carry. How can I say I love him and do that to him?
Justice for Dualayn would have to wait.
“I’m sorry I abandoned you,” her father said. He cupped her chin, lifting her gaze to his face. His thumb stroked across her cheekbone.
“So you’re admitting it.”
He nodded. “Named you and Evane after my ma and her ma. Thought they sounded good together, you know? Avena and Evane.”
“They do,” Avena said. “We do.”
“It’s myself I hate,” he continued, looking not at her but beyond her. “For Evane being dead. Your mother. It’s my fault.”
“It was Mom,” Avena said. She seized his shoulders. “I thought that it was my fault for the longest time. That you hated me for just standing there.”
He shook his head. Emotion filled his eyes. “I hate myself for abandoning you, but every time I look at you, I see Evane. I failed to save my daughter. I let her die. Your mother, Usrella, she’d said things a few times. Things that concerned me, but I ignored them. She wasn’t herself when she was dark, but she usually was bright. She loved you girls. From the moment she found out she was pregnant until the last time she tucked you both in. I could see it. She treasured being a mother. She wanted more, but the birth was hard on her. She almost died bringing you two into the world.”
Avena hadn’t known that.
“I didn’t hit your ma to save your life, I did it out of fury. At myself for ignoring those warnings. For pushing down those whispers of fear and pretending everything was fine. I destroyed our family because I couldn’t face the truth about her. So I ran.”
“Not far,” said Avena. “You’ve been near me, haven’t you? While I was living in the orphanage. Then you came to work here to watch over me.”
“Too ashamed to ever say anything.” He still wouldn’t look at her.
“You’re here now.” She slid her hands from his shoulders to around his neck. She hugged her father. “That’s enough. I can help you forgive yourself. I don’t think it was anyone’s fault, not even hers. She was broken, wasn’t she? She couldn’t help the things she said. I’ve learned about the sickness of the mind. Dementia, depression, grief, mania, and more.”
“I could have taken her to a sanitarium. The first time she told me Elohm whispered to her and that she had to cleanse our daughters, I should have done it. The way she talked . . .” His arms went around her. “Evane could be here with you.”
She would help her father like she was helping Ōbhin. Like they were helping each other. Letting go of the past was difficult. Accepting fault for your actions and not taking the blame for others was such a hard thing to do. It could destroy even a good man.
And that was what her father was. A good man who’d been broken by the terrible events of his life. She would mend him. “I love you, Dad.”
He let out a sobbing groan and squeezed her tight. Her ribs creaked and she reveled in the strength of him. Her eyes closed and she breathed in his scent. Memories sparked through her of riding on his shoulder, Evane on the other, through golden fields of ripe wheat. Of kisses placed on her brow as she was tucked into bed at night, her favorite doll clutched to her side, Evane beside her. She savored this moment.
Then she broke away. “We’ll talk more once Dualayn is finished.”
He nodded and cleared his throat. “Don’t let that bastard hurt you again.”
“Ōbhin will be standing by with his sword.” Her face tightened. “Dualayn thinks himself too important to risk dying.”
“Besides, you’re his next great work.” Disgust flicked across her father’s face. He glanced up. “If anything happens to her, don’t kill Dualayn. Let me beat him to death.”
“He won’t harm her,” Ōbhin answered as he stepped into the room. “He’s waiting. He’s growing . . . impatient.”
“He’s not the one about to have his chest cut open,” muttered Avena. “He can wait.”
A smile flicked across his face.
“You take care of her, Ōbhin,” her father said.
The men exchanged stares. Ōbhin nodded. So did her father. Then they both turned away. She shook her head, at a loss for what had just passed between the two. Did men have some secret form of telepathy?
Fear tightened about her chest as she took Ōbhin’s arm. In the true lab, beneath the other, she would be on the table again. Dualayn had to replace her mind’s antenna, and that meant severing her connection
