Winter Embers [ Book 2 ]

Chapter Seven

           "H-how do you know my mother's name?" Claire asked, her voice barely audible as she struggled to come to make sense of what was happening. Everyone else had gone quiet, even Draz who sat still as stone beside her seemed to have nothing to contribute, no witty comments or snappy interjections.

          "I wasn't sure at first to be honest," Rollan said, rubbing the back of his neck, "but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense."

          "Thought about what? What made sense?" Claire asked, trying not to let impatience get the better of her. She could feel her heart squeezing uncomfortably in her chest as she tried to figure out whatever it was Rollan had pieced together. Nothing seemed to fit and Claire suspected that Rollan had more pieces of the puzzle than she did.

          "We needed a volunteer," Elysia interrupted, her eyes were fixed on the table, her voice was distant, as though she were remembering something long forgotten. "Someone to protect Rollan until we could find a cure and bring him back."

          She shook her head and looked towards Rollan. "There's no way, Nathalie never even hinted..."

          "The only thing I can assume is that she didn't know," Rollan replied.

          "Didn't know what?" Claire snapped, causing both to look towards her in surprise. Claire had slammed both her hands against the table in her frustration causing the untouched goblets filled with warmed spiced wine to rattle.

          "That she was pregnant," Rollan concluded, looking pointedly at Claire, "with you."

          Claire sat down hard in her chair, her legs suddenly deciding they were no longer capable of supporting her weight. If what they were saying was true, if they knew her mother, than that meant Nathalie had come from this world. What she didn't understand was how she fit into the rest of it. What had compelled her mother to abandon her world?

          "Why would my mother volunteer to protect you, Rollan?" Claire murmured as she bunched her hands into tight fists in her lap.

          "Claire... your mother was my aunt," Rollan revealed, "you and I are cousins, we're family."

          Claire stood, the room suddenly feeling as though it was closing in on her.

          "Claire, where are you going?" Elysia called out, but Claire was already halfway to the tent's covered opening. She flung it aside, nearly knocking over a young fae boy as he walked by carrying a bundle of firewood. She didn't say a word, simply rushed past him, the cold air striking her flushed face. Flecks of ice stung as they caressed her tear stained cheeks, but Claire didn't even seem to notice, or if she did, she didn't let it slow her down.

          If what Rollan and Elysia claimed was true, then Nathalie wasn't just from Oria, she was royalty which made Claire... well, she didn't want to think about that just then. It was enough to learn that had least part of her had once belonged here... but what of the other part?

          What about her father?

          For as long as she could remember, her mother had insisted her father was dead. Nathalie had always gotten so sad mentioning him that, even at a young age, Claire had never had the desire to pry further. If she had been pregnant before, then her father was potentially from Oria as well, if Nathalie had gotten pregnant later, then her father was from earth.

          Reaching the edge of the encampment, Claire stopped and stared out into the darkness. She could go back and ask, but pride kept her rooted in place. She felt consumed by feelings of anger and betrayal. She felt as though she had been abandoned all over again, left to sink or swim in the midst of a raging storm.