City of Spells (Into the Crooked Place #2) - Alexandra Christo Page 0,71
jaw as Zekia, and wore a green dress that flowed behind her like a cape.
“You’re finally home,” the woman said.
Vea Akintola.
His mother.
Wesley had a mother.
“My boy,” she said.
Wesley relished how different those words sounded in her voice. Ashwood loved to call him that when he was being his most terrible.
My boy, I will make you the world.
My boy, you have never doubted me before.
My boy, be very, very careful.
The words were possessive on his shadow lips, as though Wesley belonged to him. His favorite toy. His most treasured lapdog.
They were a claim.
But when Vea spoke them, with delicacy and a soft smile as warm as Creijen summer, Wesley felt newly cherished.
My boy.
A way of telling him that he wasn’t alone anymore.
“Is this real?” Wesley asked.
Vea nodded.
“How can I be sure?”
“Spiritcrafters can connect with the dead,” she said. “I was one, but I didn’t handle it so well. You’ve got a hold on your power in a way I never did. Then again, you were born with staves, so I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re a quick learner.”
“I’m not a Spiritcrafter. I’m an Intuitcrafter.”
“Magic works in strange ways,” Vea said. “Yes, every Crafter has a specialty. But sometimes, every so often, gifts are inherited. Sometimes, the rules get to be broken, just a little.”
“Either that, or I’m high on dream dust,” Wesley said.
Vea laughed and Wesley thought it was strange that he could miss a sound he’d never even heard until now.
“I think the Many Gods wanted us to talk,” Vea said. “We’re vessels for their will.”
Wesley grimaced.
A vessel was just a fancy word for a pawn and he had quite enough of being the product of someone else’s plans.
“I don’t believe in the Many Gods,” he said. “It’s just a good curse word to throw around.”
Vea shrugged, like she’d expected him to say that.
“You’ve grown so much since I last saw you. Are you happy with it?”
It was not the growing she meant, Wesley quickly realized, but who he had grown into. Wesley didn’t want to reply, a little because he thought Vea already knew the answer. But also because Wesley wasn’t sure whether or not he did.
Yes, Wesley was happy that he’d grown into someone who could protect himself, but that had only been possible because his family had abandoned him.
He was happy to have built himself a home, but now Ashwood had destroyed that.
He was happy to have shared a childhood alongside Tavia, but he didn’t know what their future would be.
Besides, Wesley was less concerned about himself and more curious about Vea and whether or not she was happy with all he had become. He’d never wanted to impress anyone before, Tavia aside, but he felt the urge more strongly than ever now.
Did Vea fear him, like the others?
Was she angry at all he had done?
“Are your sisters well?” Vea asked.
His sisters.
Wesley had sisters.
Zekia. Saxony.
He thought for a moment about that and about what might have happened if they’d grown up together. Saxony was older and Wesley might’ve tried desperately to impress her, while she taught him magic tricks and ruffled his hair like he was some kind of welcome annoyance.
And Zekia.
Many Gods, then there was Zekia.
Would Wesley have looked out for his baby sister and teased her and chided her and fought anyone who hurt her?
He didn’t have the chance to know, because that world didn’t exist and in this one Wesley had sisters, but he had betrayed them instead of protecting them.
One hated him.
The other was driven to madness because of him.
“They’re alive,” Wesley said. “I don’t know how they are. I’ve never asked.”
“That’s not very brotherly.”
“You’ll soon learn I’m not all that familial.”
Vea’s laugh was like a music box and Wesley wanted to bottle the sound and take it back with him to the real world for safekeeping. It was the saddest thing that Vea was dead and nobody would hear that laugh ever again.
“You’ve become a bit of a liar,” she said, the smile still light on her lips. “Luckily you’re still kind. Even if it’s deep down.”
She paused.
And then—
“Deep, deep down,” she said.
Wesley scoffed a laugh.
Vea held out a hand and he walked forward, so that her palm pressed against his cheek, cupping his face. This close, Wesley could see his eyes in her eyes and his curiosity in her furrowed brows.
“Promise me one thing,” Vea said. “Promise not to forget when you go back.”
Wesley put his hand over hers. “I won’t forget you.”