A thick tear rolled down Sera’s cheek. “They are honoring her spirit. They are comforting each other, and reminding each other not to mourn her loss. They did not know she had died until I came here, but they have been missing her. She has not gone, they say—she lives on in every tree and root and branch, in the whisper of the wind and patter of the rain and the rays of the sun. She will always be here.”
The sprite-Boris craned its branches toward Sera and she reached out and touched a leaf with a gentle silver finger. The sprites exploded in a shower of golden sparks, the shade of Boris vanishing into a thousand dying embers.
Abruptly, the trees stopped singing. The silence was so sharp and immediate it almost hurt Leo’s ears. He and Sera turned to find Hektor standing in the clearing, his expression somehow impressed and disdainful at the same time.
“You have a connection with the Arboreals,” he said to Sera.
“I knew one in Old Port,” she said.
“Of course. Xavier’s show.” He turned to Leo. “I was wondering if I might speak with you a moment.”
Leo did not want to leave Sera right now, especially not to spend time with this stern stranger-uncle, but Sera nudged him and said, “Go. I will be right here.”
“All right,” Leo said. Hektor nodded curtly and turned, leaving Leo to follow after him. He wound his way through the trees until they came to a small pond at the base of a hill. A waterfall splashed into it on one side, and pure white rocks scattered around its edge like misshapen pillows. The water was a rich midnight blue and tiny lights glimmered from within it like stars.
“Fascinating, isn’t it,” Hektor said. “Culinnon is filled with so many beautiful things, things you would never find anywhere else on this planet.”
“It’s certainly unique,” Leo said.
“It’s a prison,” Hektor snapped. “A very pretty one, but a prison nonetheless. But at least it was meant to be mine. Now you are here.”
“I’m not inheriting Culinnon,” Leo said. “And Agnes and I didn’t even know about this island till we arrived in Arbaz.”
Hektor ran a hand over his sleek black hair. “Forgive me,” he said. “I have no skill with words. That’s Matthias’s gift. It was Alethea’s too—though she was gifted at just about everything. Used to drive me crazy.” He took a breath. “Bellamy said you were very kind to her on the journey. I thank you for that.”
“I didn’t do it for you,” Leo said. “She’s a nice person.”
Hektor’s lips twitched. “I admit, I was expecting you to be more like your father.”
“I used to try to be,” Leo said. “Back in Old Port. It didn’t really work out. As it happens, my father is quite a prick.”
Hektor laughed, and for a moment his whole face changed. “He is,” he agreed. Then he stared at Leo, his mouth pressing into a thin line. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t help—you look so much like—”
“It’s fine,” Leo said, holding up a hand. “I’m kind of used to it by now.”
“She was very special,” Hektor said. “Full of light, full of life. Mother had so much expectation pinned on her—even after she married Xavier, even after she left Pelago, Mother still hoped. And then Alethea died and that hope shattered. It isn’t easy, being the eldest son. Matthias ran away, he could do that, but not me. I had to stay and get married and continue the family line. Family is everything.”
“Yes, Ambrosine seemed pretty clear about that on the way here.”
Hektor’s dark eyes flashed as they held Leo’s. “Family is everything,” he said again, slowly. “I do not know if Bellamy will ever be able to conceive. And I do not think Matthias will ever love anyone but his books. But the Byrne line must continue. My mother will insist upon it.”
Leo blinked. “Sorry, what?”
“I didn’t take you for an idiot,” Hektor said. “The Byrne line must continue. That will start with you.”
Leo felt as if the ground had just disappeared beneath his feet. “Are you saying . . . look, I’m only eighteen! And I just got here, for god’s sake. I’m not some . . . some . . . stud to be let out for breeding. There’s a girl back there who—”
“Exactly,” his uncle said, cutting him off. “There’s a girl back there, a very special girl, who would create a very special line.”
“That’s disgusting,” Leo spat. “How can you even think that?”
“I’m not thinking it,” he said. “My mother is.”
“And you’re, what, trying to help me out by giving me a heads-up?”
Hektor looked at him like he was utterly stupid. “Yes, Leo. That’s exactly what I’m trying to do.”
“Sera’s going home,” Leo said, feeling a bit like a petulant boy.
Hektor raised one eyebrow. “You really think my mother will let that girl leave? A girl who looks like a goddess? A girl with a connection to Braxos?”
It was just what Bellamy had said too. Leo’s nostrils flared. “This planet doesn’t deserve her,” he muttered.
Hektor’s face softened. “You care for her very much, that is clear. My mother delights in using the things we care about against us. Especially since she lost Alethea. And she is a very powerful woman.”
“Sera has power too,” Leo said, then wished that he hadn’t.
“Yes,” Hektor said with a sigh. “I’m certain she does.”
He left Leo abruptly, as if he had said all he needed to and there was no reason for a goodbye. Sera found him there after a while, sitting on a smooth white rock and staring into the pond filled with stars.
“What did your uncle want?” she asked.
Leo could not bring himself to tell her the full truth. “Just to warn me that Ambrosine is powerful and won’t want you to leave Culinnon.”
“Well,” Sera said, sitting beside him. “We knew that already.”
He wrapped an arm around her waist and she melted against him. It made Hektor’s warning all the worse.
“I like this island,” she said. “But it seems sad. Beautiful, but sad.”
“Hektor says it’s like a prison.”
“Hm. Yes, maybe it is. It reminds me of a caged bird, something pretty but trapped, struggling to be free.”
Her description made Leo think back to Old Port, how he had been instrumental in locking Sera up in that crate, and for a moment he was overwhelmed with disgust at himself, at the person he used to be. But he wasn’t that person anymore and he’d be damned if anyone tried to take away Sera’s freedom again.
It didn’t matter what Ambrosine wanted. Sera deserved to go home and Leo was going to make sure she got there. Even if it broke his heart to do it.
The storm started just as Leo and Sera were summoned to dinner.
The dining room was like a huge domed greenhouse. Glass panels climbed high above them, with all sorts of plants hanging from rafters or crawling along iron moldings. Heart-leafed philodendrons and peperomias dangled their rich greenery from ornate ceramic pots overhead; red ivy wound its way along the walls, while delicate peace lilies and soft, rose-tipped painted ladies dotted the ground. The table itself was made of a massive tree trunk, its rings preserved with enamel, carved out to fit the chairs. An elegant candelabra sat in its center, thick green candles perched in the mouths of copper roses.