The Deck of Omens (The Devouring Gray #2) - Christine Lynn Herman Page 0,63

of it would be, but if what your mother said is true about your ability, then it gave you the original founders’ powers. Which means that perhaps you can succeed where the other founders have failed to make a difference in this fight.”

A shock wave coursed through May as this sank in. The thought that she could be as powerful as the woman who had locked away the Beast itself was almost unfathomable. “Does that mean I might actually be able to change the future in a way that ensures we defeat the corruption?”

“Potentially.” Ezra sighed thoughtfully. “It’s risky. What you’ve described seeing when the hawthorn was corrupted distresses me. It means that, bound as you are, you could be killed if your efforts backfired. We can’t mindlessly risk your life?—we must find a way to proceed safely. I’ll need to return to the university library, see if there’s anything more there I can use to help you.”

“They don’t have a digital archive you can check?” May didn’t like the idea of him leaving her again, alone with all of this worry to sort through.

“I’m afraid not,” Ezra said. “But I will be back, May, I promise. In the meantime, I urge you not to do anything rash.”

“All right,” May said, although she itched to do something, anything. She hadn’t known how to bring it up on the phone, but now that she was face-to-face with her father, there was something else she wanted to talk about. “Um. I also wanted to mention that when I talked to Mom… she said some things. About you.”

“Ah.” Ezra adjusted his glasses. “Allow me to guess?—they were less than kind.”

“You could say that.”

“Well, I suppose I should have expected it.” Ezra rapped his knuckles absently against the nearest tree trunk, as if contemplating what to say next. “Your mother is… quite set in her opinions of what happened between us.”

“She said you studied us. Is that true?”

“Certainly.” His lips pursed. “It’s an old argument of ours. She felt that my interest in the founder mythology and customs was prying. I merely wished to find ways to help my family. It took me longer than I’m proud of to realize that her resistance came from the worry I would uncover the truth about her abilities.”

May’s stomach churned. “You mean about how she takes the town’s memories?”

“Yes. I did not approve, and I made my concerns known. Which meant she no longer approved of me.”

“Is that why you left?”

“That’s part of it. But those are dark times, May, ones I don’t particularly wish to relive.”

“I understand.” May paused. “I’m surprised she never tried to take your memories away.”

“As am I. I suppose there are some lines she’s still unwilling to cross.”

“I just don’t understand,” May said quietly. “She seemed completely unwilling to even accept that I might be able to help her.”

“That’s because she’s threatened by you.” Ezra gestured at the back of the house, the gabled roofs, the hawthorn’s dying branches. “She claims to want strong founders, but what she really wants is no one strong enough to challenge her. And because you can invert her powers, because you are capable of things she’s only dreamed of, she has tried to stifle you instead of allowing you to grow.”

“Just like what she did to Harper and Violet.”

“Exactly.” Ezra placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I don’t think we need to look at this anymore. I’ll be back in town soon. Meanwhile, you keep an eye on the corruption, all right?”

“Thanks,” May said, exhausted. They parted ways, and she passed her dying tree, looking toward the home that did not feel like a home at all.

Usually, people met beneath the bleachers behind Four Paths High School to hook up or smoke up. Harper had something very different in mind. She cleared out the space in seconds, couples scattering and kids hastily putting out their joints before they realized that she was not in fact a teacher.

“You don’t have to frighten them,” Justin said from beside her, watching with concern as a group of freshmen scrambled back like startled mice. “They’re just trying to enjoy their lunch period.”

“Would you rather do this in front of half the school?” Harper asked dryly.

Justin’s mouth twisted. “No.”

“I figured.” To be fair, this wasn’t exactly Harper’s first choice either, but the band practice rooms were taken. Slatted sunlight illuminated the graffiti scrawled beneath the bleachers, hearts and other body parts that Harper felt were an optimistic interpretation of reality.

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