Half Wylde | Book 1

Forty: Lark

My breath caught in my throat as Nassir said the words. My mother. He knew her.

"I knew it instantly of course. The first moment she stepped in the city it was the same tug I felt to seek out DuVarick." Nassir leaned back with a smile, reminiscing. "She was full of energy. Stubborn too. Her aura was different, but that was to be expected. After all, she wasn't fae."

My heart thudded. I felt a pang of hurt at my missed identity for all these years, but if Nassir had the truth, I was going to find out.

"What was she then?" I asked. Patience was not one of my virtues.

"I hadn't encountered one of her kind in person, though from time to time they do wander into the Wyldes, seeking to share knowledge and attempt to form a mutual relationship. But we have a long history of distrust with each other, and soon enough they leave without making any impact," Nassir said.

It was so close to something Thian once told me, they would come briefly, as was their lifespan, and leave. Usually without accomplishing their goals. The idealists. The ones who thought they could mend an old rift and gain knowledge for it.

"She was... a witch?" My voice shook. "No..."

Thain would hate me.

They all would hate me.

Schula, she made a face right before she left me in the crater. I thought she was acting strange. She knew. She found out when she lifted my seal.

Oh Mother. Oh Stars. Did she hate me too?

"Wren, are you alright?" Nassir asked, reaching out for my hand again. "Stay calm, I will tell you everything. This does not mean you are hated here. Half of you is still of the Wyldes."

"What if this is how I survived the plague?" I moaned. "They'll think it was witchcraft that saved me! What if it was?"

"Wren, calm down!" Nassir said firmly. "You can tell me about this plague later, but I assure you as a baby you had no control over your powers. Lark was a wonderful person, and she would not have her own child part of an evil plot, I assure you. It was not your fault, it was not her fault, just let me tell you what I know."

I took a breath. Then another.

It fell easily into my meditative breathing. One... Two... Three...

"Alright, yes," I said. "Sorry, I'm fine. Go on, I want to know more."

Nassir paused until he was satisfied that I had calmed down, then he leaned back again and sighed. "Lark met DuVarick first, of course. I could feel them together. Thriving, getting more and more powerful."

"How is it that a witch could be triquetram with a fae?" I asked.

"It is uncommon but it does happen. Your triquetram is almost always your equal in power, but that doesn't mean equal in race or status. It is as the Stars will it to be." Nassir shrugged.

"Okay, so your triquetram was whole, and that makes you all stronger. Right?"

Nassir nodded. "I had long ago ceased to meditate. I thought if I was weaker, DuVarick could not benefit from my presence. But even in that low state I felt the pulse of energy from them flowing into me. I could deny it no longer, I itched to meet her, and evidently the same was true for Lark."

"You met her? In here?" I asked.

"One day when DuVarick was out on a short diplomatic errand, she came down here. It took some time, but with the pull of our powers she eventually found her way to me. I was waiting at the door and the moment she opened it she flew into my arms, hugging me." He smiled sadly. "And that was that. As far as she was concerned we were family. She stole away whenever DuVarick wasn't looking to come see me. She told me about herself, and I told her about me. Thought I don't like to talk about it, she was very good at prying the stories right out of me. Against my wishes, she begged DuVarick to free me. They argued often about it, but as you can see, DuVarick won in the end."