The Promised Queen (Forgotten Empires #3)- Jeffe Kennedy Page 0,73

to tame and bind Calanthe, who was also me. “I am too many people at once,” I murmured, and Ambrose’s smile widened.

“I know exactly what you mean,” he confided.

“Calanthe is at rest,” Mother declared, then bowed deeply to me. “Thank You for Your sacrifice, my queen and my goddess.”

Not sure what to say, I inclined my head—and felt the silken slide of cool vines over my bare shoulders. Startled, I put a hand to my head, finding myself not bald anymore, but with luxuriant growth flowing over my shoulders. Scooping it up, I brought it round to see: a wealth of fairy-thin vines, delicate as human hair, but rich with small leaves and blooming with tiny blossoms in every color.

“It’s quite remarkable,” Ambrose assured me, and Merle croaked in approval.

“And as it should be,” Mother added reprovingly. “No more shaving it off.”

“No.” I smiled at her, feeling radiant with it. My own hair, as I’d never imagined it could be. Then I realized … “My hand!”

It had completed the regeneration, the orchid back on my ring finger. I flexed my fleshly fingers, finding them the same as they’d been before. And my arm no longer looked wasted. I felt like myself again—something I would never again take for granted.

“Thank you, Mother,” I breathed, and we all knew I meant Calanthe. I reached for the dreamthink, and She responded with the sleepy embrace I’d been so long familiar with. And no longer minded. Calanthe wasn’t meant to be any more awake than this in our realm. Across my island, people and animals bustled, bursting with renewed life. The damage hadn’t disappeared, but they were working to fix it. All of us, together, putting things to rights again.

We’d done it. A miracle.

* * *

“I’ll take You to Tertulyn, Your Highness,” Mother said, extinguishing her lantern as we emerged into the light-filled upper caverns of the temple.

“I should go tell Con the good news first,” I said, slowing my steps, my good spirits falling.

Mother didn’t pause, turning down a tunnel I knew led to the private residential areas and clearly expecting me to follow. “I believe Your wolf will be occupied for some time yet.”

“He drank the water?” I hurried to catch up, quite easy in my bare feet and leggings, with my body humming with renewed vitality. I glanced back. Ambrose seemed to be gliding along without too much trouble. Merle had his head pressed into the wizard’s golden curls, Ambrose replying softly from time to time, as they carried on the conversation they’d been having the entire walk back.

“Both Conrí and the Lady Sondra partook of the waters.”

I didn’t doubt she would know, but it still surprised me that Con had. Sondra, yeah. I could see her curiosity overcoming her cynicism, not to mention that she could never resist a dare, but Con? I’d been just certain he’d fight it all the way, and I said as much.

Mother chuckled. “Oh, he fought all right. But his inner self wanted the truth badly enough that he succumbed.”

Ah. Now, that sounded like my Con. “And he’s still under the water?” Surely we’d been gone for hours. Hard to say. Time moved differently in the temple.

“He fought himself for a very long time,” she replied with wry amusement.

Hmm. Hopefully the truth wouldn’t wound him too much. But Con was strong. He was much better at facing ugly realities than I was. If none of the terrible events of his young life—and the trials since—had broken him, I doubted anything could. Still, I very much wanted to go to him. This worrying over someone wasn’t something I was accustomed to. Until recently I’d only ever truly fretted over Calanthe. And now that I understood I was Calanthe on some levels, that seemed terribly self-absorbed of me.

“Mother, I have a question,” I said quietly, glancing back to make sure Ambrose still lagged by a considerable distance and remained absorbed in the conversation with Merle. Though the wizard might understand this better than I did. Still, it felt private. Personal.

Mother glanced at me. “Ask, daughter. The wizard will not hear.”

“How is it that I’m an extension of Calanthe, both Her and yet not?”

She smiled in sympathy. “I wondered when You’d receive that truth. I suppose You needed to see that in order to subdue the monster in Yourself.”

I nodded. All so very odd to wrap my mind around. Monster.

“You are not so different,” Mother reassured me, seeming to know I needed it. “We all battle ourselves. Witness