The Deck of Omens (The Devouring Gray #2) - Christine Lynn Herman Page 0,88

of the town square like dozens of empty eye sockets.

The entire thing made Violet incredibly uneasy. It wasn’t supposed to look like this. It was proof that they had lost a battle their families had been fighting for over a hundred and fifty years.

If battle was even the right word for it, based on what Violet had potentially discovered. Violet stared anxiously at Juniper, who was standing beside her, gazing at the photo of the letter on Violet’s phone screen. Normally she would have died before willingly handing over her phone to her mother, but this patrol had been her first chance to be alone with Juniper since the announcement of the evacuation.

They’d been assigned to watch the founders’ seal together, since it was clear by now that this was the most likely place the corruption would strike next. But Violet wasn’t going to lose another opportunity to explain to her mother that she’d discovered something potentially important.

“Who have you shown this to?” Juniper asked sharply as soon as she was finished, lowering the screen.

“May,” Violet said. “No one else. There’s been so much going on?—I didn’t want to overwhelm them.”

“Well, I appreciate you telling me that you uncovered this.” Juniper handed back the phone, her brow furrowed. “I assume you’re wondering about the validity of this potential claim?”

“Aren’t you?” Violet asked hoarsely. She could not shake the feeling that this was all tied together: the murky origins of the Beast, the corruption invading the town’s sacred places, the humanity she sensed in her tether to the trees. She just couldn’t figure out how.

“I’m not wondering, I know,” Juniper said softly. “Everything you read in that letter is true.”

Violet’s entire body went cold. “What do you mean, you know it’s true?”

“I hoped I’d never have to tell you.” Beside her, Juniper looked utterly miserable. “But yes, Violet, it’s true. Our ancestors created the Beast.”

Violet’s world rolled and spun frantically on its axis. Her legs wobbled, her hands clammy with sweat. The mausoleum and the town hall spun, all of it blurring together in her field of vision until she thought she might pass out.

“How long?” she whispered. “How long have you known this?”

“Oh, Violet.” Juniper reached for her hand, but Violet snatched it away.

“We said no more secrets. No more lies.”

The words rang out across the deserted town square, accusatory and furious. Juniper winced beneath their weight.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“I don’t want your apology.” They had been through so much together, and Juniper was still hiding things from her. After they’d worked so hard to build trust. After Violet had finally started to feel as if she had a mother. “I want to know what you know.”

Juniper’s inclined head was a nod and a surrender. “It started when I was seventeen,” she began. “At the time, I was tapped to be the future leader of the Saunders family. Back then, it meant being the mayor, and it came with certain knowledge in order to ensure the safety of the town, passed down from one mayor to the next.”

“Knowledge like our entire family mythology being built on a lie?”

“It’s not all a lie,” Juniper said delicately. “But it is quite sensitive. Not even Augusta knows about this. When I regained my memories, I thought I was the only one left alive who knew the truth.”

“Yeah, well, the Hawthornes have half the story now,” Violet said quietly. “Secret’s out, Mom. Might as well give me the rest of it.”

Juniper’s mouth twisted. “It is not a pleasant piece of information. You may not want to hear it?—”

“Of course I want to hear it.” Violet gaped at her. “I just learned how to trust you. Now I know I can’t.”

“You’ve made your point,” Juniper said. In Violet’s opinion, her mother had not earned the right to the wounded expression on her face. Dusk had fallen, swathing the town hall in a bluish shroud that winked iridescent in the slowly gathering mist. “And you have to understand that much of what you know is true. We are bound to the Beast. We draw our powers from it. It’s trapped in the Gray, just as you’ve discovered, and we protect the town from it. Mayor Hiram?—my uncle—had a saying about the story of the Beast we tell ourselves. That it’s as true as most stories are, which is to say it is and it isn’t.”

“That just sounds like a convenient excuse for a lie.”

“Perhaps.” Juniper shrugged. “Regardless, the truth is messier, and it’s passed down from