The Matriarch's Daughter

Chapter Sixteen: The Mask of Chandeidra

"She's coming. I see her," Gamma exclaimed, pressing closer to the window.

Thepa pushed off her desk and crossed the room, lightly nudging Gamma aside. She peered out the window, scanning the daily bustle of Level Three. Unlike the lower levels, Level Three was colorful, its streets lined with the wealthy and noble-born, moving through the shops and stalls more to be seen than to buy. A parade of feathered hats, sharp suits, and long, puffy dresses mingled like a flock of peacocks preening for attention. Thepa had never understood the point, though she supposed she never had enough money for such things to matter.

"Where?" she asked, narrowing her gaze.

Gamma pointed. "She just walked under the tree by the hospital. She'll come out from under the branches in a second."

Thepa waited. First a beat, then two. To her annoyance, impatience itched beneath her skin, though she was already antsy enough. Then, a tangled mass of red hair and pointed ears poked through the clearing.

"There she is," she whispered, more to herself than to Gamma.

Gamma shifted beside her. "How are you feeling?"

Thepa kept her eyes on Rory. "I'm ready." The words felt hollow, spoken more out of obligation, but they were anything but the truth.

Gamma wasn't fooled. "Ms. Thepa..."

Thepa hesitated, then exhaled through her nose. "Is it too late to get Claudia?"

Gamma turned fully toward her, her slightly taller frame casting a soft shadow across Thepa's form. She tilted her head to the side, her expression gentled by a warm smile. Then, without a word, she squeezed Thepa's hand.

"We stick to the plan," she said. "The goal isn't to team up on her. We're trying to get her to open up. As much as Claudia loves Rory, a third person might come off as an ambush."

Thepa swallowed and gave a small nod, her stomach twisting in doubt.

After Gamma shared Rory's memoir, they agreed that confronting Rory was the best option, but that didn't make it any easier.

"And if she won't talk? Or if she brushes us off?"

Gamma hesitated, then shrugged. "Then we don't let her."

Thepa let out a short, humorless chuckle. "You make it sound so easy."

"It won't be," Gamma admitted. "But we owe it to her to try."

Thepa glanced back out the window, watching Rory weave through the square, unaware of the conversation above her. Her movements were unhurried, greeting a soldier along the way.

Thepa had known Rory long enough to recognize when something was wrong, and everything about her sister lately screamed it. The forced smiles. The clipped responses. The lies she told. It was as if she had built a wall around herself, and every time Thepa tried to climb over it, Rory only raised it higher.

Then, just as Rory disappeared into the building, swallowed by stone and shadow, Thepa realized she was holding her breath.

Why am I so nervous?

She exhaled slowly, pressing her fingers against the windowsill to steady herself. This was Rory. Her sister. This was her oldest friend and confidante. She had faced battlefields, fiends, and foes. She had fought against overwhelming odds, and yet, somehow, this quiet confrontation wrecked her brain.

What if Rory refused to talk? What if she shut us out completely? Or worse, what if Rory is going to do what...best not to think about that.

Thepa swallowed the unease creeping up her throat. There was no turning back now. If Rory was slipping away, she had no choice but to reach for her before it was too late.