all over the head.
At last, exhausted, lungs straining for air, sweating like I’d fought a battle, I stood at the edge of the pool, bagiroca hanging limply by my side. Sondra slept on. And as the echoes of my raging faded, the pretty melody of the tinkling water took over. The sunlight wove through the falling droplets. So peaceful. So deceptive.
“Is this truth?” I roared. The question bounced back to me. Truth? Truth? Truth?
So that was the deal. Either I drank the water or I lost my mind in this cave. Maybe I would become the monster charging out to drive people to doing what they couldn’t make themselves do.
“Fine,” I snarled and put the bagiroca down. I lifted one foot to yank off my boot, then the other. I tossed them aside, then ditched the leather vest and shirt. No way I was standing there stark naked, so the pants would just have to get soaked. I already felt naked enough without weapons in this uncanny place. Stepping into the water, I managed not to flinch—but only because Sondra had warned me. It was cold, like snowmelt cold. I didn’t get how that could be on an island that I’d bet had never seen a snowfall. “Guess that’s part of the torture,” I muttered, stomping to the fall. “Can’t have the water of truth be comfortable.”
The water splashed over me, instantly soaking my hair and beard, cold on my bare chest—more like a deluge than what looked like a little trickle. “Just get it over with,” I ordered myself, and threw back my head and drank.
It tasted delicious, like the purest water ever—which maybe it was. And for a minute nothing happened. Just a cold shower and a long drink of water.
It would just figure if I was the only one to drink the water of truth and not see a dammed thing. The gods always had the last laugh. Here I was, wet and shivering, and just as much an idiot brute as when I stepped into the pool.
A hoarse laugh escaped me. I would suspect the others of putting on a show to fool me, if I didn’t know Ambrose and Sondra’s pain had been truly felt. Lia hadn’t shown as much emotion, but then she never did. And her gaze across the pool had been thoughtful, as if what she’d seen had to do with me. That might be vain of me to think so. She had much bigger things to deal with than whatever relationship we had. “So much for truth,” I muttered.
“Still my hotheaded and impatient son, I see.”
I whirled, water flying. My mother. Standing right there. “Mama?” I croaked, sounding five years old again.
She smiled, full of indulgent love. “My Conrí. It’s so good to see you. And look how you’ve grown up. You’re even taller than your father, broader in the shoulder, too.”
I scanned the cavern. Everything looked the same, including the sleeping Sondra—except my mother was now standing beside the pool, wearing a gown I remembered from when I was a kid. “You’re not real,” I said.
She cocked her head. “What is real?”
“You’re not my mother. You’re a figment of my memories.”
“If that was the case, then you would’ve known already that you’re taller than your father,” she said gently, then smiled at my confusion. “You didn’t, and why would you? Not many other people besides me would be in a position to know.”
“The others didn’t get a visitor,” I pointed out. At least, none of them had seemed to be talking to anyone else.
“Everyone has their own truth, my son,” she reminded me. “I am part of yours.”
“How are you here then?” I demanded, burying the burst of debilitating emotion under the gruff demand.
“This place is between realms, so it’s easier for those of us existing in other forms to meet with the living.”
“You still … exist?”
She gestured at herself. “Clearly. Though usually we only watch, not speak.”
“You’ve been watching over me?” The thought both pained and warmed me.
“Always, my son. I like Lia. Bright and noble, with a generous heart. You chose well.”
“I didn’t choose her,” I replied reflexively.
“Didn’t you?” She gave me a reproving look, like when she’d caught me in a lie.
Was it a lie? It seemed the truth water should’ve stopped me from saying it, if so. Then I realized both things were true. “I didn’t, and then I did.”
She nodded. “Everything in our lives is a choice, even if it doesn’t seem like it at