“A gift,” Bellamy agreed. Ambrosine’s eyes flashed and the woman looked down at her plate, quickly shoving a tomato in her mouth.
“Are there more of your kind on Braxos?” Ambrosine asked, turning back to Sera.
She shook her head. “My City is tethered there. I am the only Cerulean on this planet.”
“Fascinating.” Ambrosine tapped her jaw with a bony finger. “Well, I have plenty of ships that can take us. I’ve lost some, of course, trying to find Braxos myself.” She said it dismissively, but Sera got the sense that she was more upset by the loss than she let on. “But now you are here and can show us the way. I assume you know the way?”
Sera blinked but Leo said, “Of course she does.” Sera was grateful that she didn’t have to lie, but she didn’t know how to get to Braxos any more than Ambrosine. She hoped Agnes would not abandon Errol. He was their only hope.
Sera also did not like the thought of taking Ambrosine to Braxos—but she was not in a position to do much about it. They needed to get past Culinnon and they needed a ship.
“You know, there are so many tales of the Lost Islands in this country,” Ambrosine said as their salads were cleared and a second course of hazelnut profiteroles with blue cheese and grapes was set before them. “Many that involve the Byrnes directly, though we don’t like to talk about that with outsiders. But since we are among family and . . .” She turned to Sera with a smile that felt vaguely poisonous. “Close friends, there’s no harm in a little storytelling, is there? Perhaps you, Sera, can add your own tales as well.”
“Are you family?” Leo asked, turning to Bellamy.
She started. “I’m—”
“Bellamy is my son Hektor’s wife,” Ambrosine said. “I take her with me whenever I travel. She brings me such comfort.”
The words held the indistinct shadow of a threat. Bellamy’s shoulders tensed and her lips twitched.
Ambrosine picked up the conversation as if there had not been any interruption. “There are stories of riches, of course, wealth beyond measure that await those who find a Lost Island, but those are dull. In the Byrne family, however, we know of an inexplicable power that resides there. Some say it is the power of time—past, present, and future accessible all at once. Or else the gift of immortality. Or perhaps the ability to compel those you wish to obey you. No one knows for sure.” She looked to Sera, as if hoping she might affirm or contradict these tales.
“On Adereen they say the Lost Islands can allow you to speak to those who are dead,” Bellamy piped up, then looked like she immediately regretted it.
“Why would you bring up such a sad topic over dinner?” Ambrosine snapped. “And in front of our honored guest? My sincerest apologies, Sera. Bellamy is not from a particularly noble family. Her manners can be atrocious at times.”
“It’s all right,” Sera said. She wasn’t offended in the slightest and tried to express that to Bellamy with her eyes, but the woman would not meet her gaze.
“My daughter-in-law is a little out of sorts, I’m afraid. She and my son have been trying to have a child for years. She miscarried again recently, her sixth.”
“Seventh.” Bellamy barely whispered the word and yet Sera felt her own heart crack with the pain of it.
Ambrosine sighed and finished her wine as the main course of spinach and mushroom pie was set before them. “I admit we’ve all been a little worried, haven’t we, Bellamy? But now, Leo, you are back, and Agnes too. All the Byrnes back where they ought to be. What a relief. I’m sure Alethea would have wanted you to see her home, to meet her family, to . . . to spend time connecting with your Byrne heritage.” She paused. “Family is everything, isn’t it?”
Bellamy looked close to tears. Ambrosine’s remarks felt like needles, small but sharp.
“Now,” Ambrosine said, cutting into her pie. “Sera, do tell me some about your City. Leo was frustratingly vague earlier.”
Sera flashed him a grateful look and he gave a small shrug as if to say, of course. She told simple details, of the seresheep meadows and the stargem mines, the gold-tipped temple of Mother Sun and the great rush of the Estuary. She did not mention her magic or the sacrifice that caused her to come to the planet in the first place. By the time dessert was served, Sera felt exhausted.
“My goodness, look at the time,” Ambrosine said, taking her last bite of raspberry sponge. “You both must be more than ready for bed.”
As if on cue, Leo let out a wide yawn. “Sorry,” he said. “We haven’t slept well the past few days.”
“Bellamy will escort you to your rooms,” Ambrosine said. “I’ve lodged you on the same hall. I thought you would wish to be near each other. You seem such close friends.”
Leo’s cheeks turned pink, the way they did when he was embarrassed. They were close friends, though, weren’t they? So why did it make Sera’s tummy go all wriggly?
Bellamy led them to their rooms in silence. Sera was trying to think of something to say to her when she stopped abruptly.
“Here you are,” she said. “I hope you had a pleasant dinner.”
The words were mechanical, more obligation than warmth.
“It was very nice,” Sera said. “I wish we could have spoken with you more.”
Bellamy gazed at the red-carpeted floor. “She doesn’t like it when I talk.”
“We noticed,” Leo said dryly.
“You must miss your husband very much,” Sera said. “If Ambrosine always brings you with her when she travels.”
Bellamy’s eyes filled with tears. “She likes to take me away from him,” she said. “A punishment.”
“A punishment for what?” Sera asked.
“For marrying me.” Bellamy ducked her head. “Good night.” Then she turned and scurried down the hall.
Sera and Leo looked at each other.
“For being all about family, Ambrosine doesn’t like her own daughter-in-law much,” Leo mused.
“No,” Sera agreed. “Poor thing.”
“Ambrosine’s going to be disappointed when she realizes you don’t know how to get to Braxos.”
“I know,” she said wearily. “But we can face that hurdle another time.”
Leo chuckled. “True. Let’s get some sleep.” As she moved to open her door, he said, “Sera?”
She turned and he was looking at her strangely, in a way that made her feel like her insides had turned to clouds, airy and weightless. “Yes?”
He cleared his throat. “You look beautiful tonight.”
“Oh.” Her heart picked up speed in her chest. “Thank you,” she said. “So do you.”
He laughed and she felt her magic stir inside her, embarrassed. Perhaps that had not been the right thing to say.
“See you in the morning,” he said.
“In the morning,” she repeated.
She barely noticed the grandeur of her room as she stripped off her dress and crawled into bed, and when she at last drifted off, she dreamt of an indigo sky covered with stars, and a crown of shells in a nest of curls.
18