The Alcazar (The Cerulean Duology #2) - Amy Ewing Page 0,112

was frozen and could not speak.

And then the memory came.

Alethea was in the brownstone on Creekwater Row. She was trying to hang a mobile over a crib in the nursery, hugely pregnant, her red curls pulled up in a messy bun. She stood on a stool on her tiptoes, her legs wobbling.

“Alethea!” Xavier cried when he came in. “Let me do that.”

She grinned and pecked him on the cheek as he took the mobile, stars and clouds and little golden ships. “I think our daughter will like this. It reminds me of sailing with Matthias in the summers.” She spoke Kaolish with the faintest trace of a Pelagan accent.

“What about our son?” Xavier asked. “Is his mobile made of gloom and doom like Hektor?”

Alethea laughed and slapped him playfully on the arm. Then she bent down and picked up a different one, trees and fish and a yellow sun in its center.

“His will be his mother’s home,” she said.

“But you hate Culinnon.”

Alethea sighed and let Xavier hang the mobile over the second crib. “I don’t hate it,” she said. “I wish it were different. Not so isolated or secret. I think that island has made my family crazy.”

Xavier kissed her on the forehead. “Good thing I stole you away before you lost your marbles then.” He made a wild, exaggerated face and she laughed again.

“It’s good they will be born there,” she said as he rubbed her stomach. “You were right. Our children are of two worlds and we should not shy away from that.” She made a face. “Mother must be ecstatic.”

“Eneas and I will be with you the whole time,” Xavier promised. “I’ll take any barbs she throws at you.”

Alethea pretended to swoon. “My hero,” she said. Xavier caught her and dipped her back, and she shrieked with delight.

“Oh, my feet,” she said. She looked down and sighed. “Someday I’ll be able to see them again.”

“I’ll have Swansea heat some water,” Xavier said. “A good soak is just what they need.”

“Mmm, yes,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist. “That sounds perfect.” She gazed up at him. “I love you, you know.”

Xavier’s smile was brighter than the sun. “I love you too.”

The scene dissolved and the marble room returned, and Agnes had the impulse to reach out as if she could somehow grasp the memory in her hand and keep it with her. Her face was wet, and when she looked at her brother, she saw tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Bring her back,” Xavier said as the whole room seemed to come to life.

“What just happened?” Matthias said, dazed, running a hand over his face and then down his arms. Agnes knew he had not seen Xavier’s memory—only she and Leo had that power with Sera’s magic inside them. But everyone had felt the strange breeze and the unpleasant sensation of being held in place, unable to even lift a finger. Ambrosine sucked in a huge breath, her whole body trembling.

“Bring her back,” Xavier cried, scrambling to his feet. Leo was up in an instant and moving to protect Sera.

Sera, however, did not seem afraid. “I see you, Xavier McLellan,” she said. “And I pity you. Matthias is right. She has been here all along. You do not need Braxos to see her. She lives in Leo and in Agnes. And she lives inside you.”

“Please,” Xavier said, breathing heavily, still refusing to look at his son. “I can’t . . . bring her back!”

“No,” Sera said simply.

Suddenly, from outside, there came the long blast of a horn. Then another.

“The Renalt,” Hektor gasped.

Ambrosine was on her feet in an instant. “Get the Misarros,” she snapped at Hektor. “Ready the ships.” She turned to Sera. “Once I have dealt with this queen,” she said, hunger in her eyes, “you and I are going to have a chat.”

She strode out of the room, Hektor at her heels. “Lock them back up,” she said on her way out, waving in the direction of Xavier and Kiernan.

Agnes found her voice at last. “Father,” she cried, and finally he looked at her. He seemed empty, lifeless. Agnes didn’t know what to say. That she forgave him? She didn’t. That she understood him now? She didn’t think that was true either.

“We could have been a family,” she said. “A real family. You could have told us about her. You didn’t need to be so angry, so cruel.”

Xavier’s face clouded over. “You do not know what it is like to lose what I lost,” he