Solace & Grief (30 page)

‘I don't want to keep any more secrets.’

That choice is not yours to make
>

A part of Solace wanted to walk out, turning her back on the conversation and all its implications. Another part, smaller and wiser, made her stay. There were still things she needed to know, questions to ask, and who knew when Duchess would next indulge her curiosity? For a moment, she hesitated, uncertain of how to continue.

‘How –’ She stopped, frustrated.
Calm down. Think slowly
. ‘When I was… when my parents gave me up. They had no choice?’

You already know the answer to that. You saw their shells
>

‘Yes. But that's not what I meant.’ She dropped her eyes. ‘I mean, did I have to go into care? Wasn't there anyone else to look after me? A friend of theirs? Someone? Why did they leave me with strangers?’ Her voice cracked on the last word, and for the first time – not just since running away, but
ever
– Solace realised how much that stung; how much it had
always
stung. As though a dam had burst, she found her thoughts running away from her, felt the heat of unshed tears behind her eyes and in her throat. She choked them back.

‘I was always alone. Normally, if you show up as a baby, they give you a house, but not me. The foster parents all backed out. I stayed with the carers. When you turn five or six, regardless of where you live, they send you to school. Not me. I had a tutor.’ She felt tears on her cheeks and swiped them away, angry at her lapse. ‘Not even
high school
. Only me and a bunch of problem cases, kids who couldn't think or spell, who started fights or couldn't learn, who set fires and shot up. I just… slipped under the radar. For seventeen
years
. I was different, but couldn't tell anyone – even if I'd wanted to, there was no one to tell. Even the
rejects
thought I was weird.’ She looked up, glaring at Duchess, her eyes bright with fury. ‘But you knew that, didn't you? And they must have known, too. My parents. But they still left me there. Left me to rot.’ Her words trailed into a whisper.

For a moment, silence filled the room. Solace stared furiously downwards, waiting for the backlash.

Something rubbed against her ankles.

Startled, she turned just in time to see Duchess jump into her lap, vibrating with a purr. Shaking just a little, Solace reached out and patted her, smoothing her palms along the blue-grey coat, noting for the first time the miniscule spray of white fur between the shoulder blades, admiring the serpentine flick of the tail. Simply, as though hers was a normal life, she closed her eyes and stroked the cat, and for several minutes, that was all Duchess was: no more, no less. Finally, as if at some unspoken signal, their eyes met. Without jumping down, Duchess pulled back slightly, balancing on her haunches.

It was due to the Bloody Star. You had to be kept safe. Had the Rare raised you, she would have known. Her spies were too many, her reach too great. Only among humankind was she blind enough for safety, but now, even that is changing
>

‘But the separation? I couldn't even go to school?’

I am… sorry. But if you had moved around, what then
?
What if you were discovered
?
I could not reveal myself before it was time; I could offer no warning. We could protect one dwelling only. The fewer people you knew, the less you moved, the safer your secret was. In a human household, with friends and family, too many questions would have been asked
> She paused, and her voice softened.
You ran because you feared discovery; because Grief was finally catching up. How much sooner might that have happened otherwise
?>

Solace felt her heart sink. Duchess was right, no matter how much she wanted to believe differently. The ache didn't lessen, but she managed to nod. The exchange had drained her beyond curiosity, but there was one more thing to ask.

‘Was it… was it my parents’ idea that I be tested? Shown to the Bloodkin?’

Yes
>

‘Oh.’ She dropped her eyes. Somehow, she'd expected nothing else.

Rest now, human. You are safe. Soon, there will be much to do. I cannot say more
> Her small eyes narrowed, all compassion gone.
It is… difficult… that another can hear me. He must not know. None of them can. Do you understand
?>

For a moment, Solace didn't. Then she realised.
Manx.
Briefly, she considered rebelling. But the fight had gone out of her: she was too tired, too uncomprehending. Duchess was right. She needed rest.

‘I understand.’

Good. Now sleep
>

‘Sleep,’ murmured Solace. A wave of exhaustion broke and crashed on her body. Almost, it brought a kind of peace: her stomach was fuller than it had been, her flesh cleaner, and a soft bed was waiting upstairs. Her movements heavy, she mounted the stairs, walked along the hall to her room. From Manx and Electra, Paige and Harper, Evan and Laine, she heard the dim, quiet sounds of breath in the lungs, the soft rustle of sheets. Low murmurs came from one room, although she couldn't tell which. At any other time, she might have listened, curious, but now it seemed not to matter. Eyelids drooping, she fumbled at the doorknob, letting herself in as silently as possible. Jess was a dark lump under the covers of the first bed, snoring her usual gentle snores. Sighing with relief, Solace moved past her, collapsed onto the second mattress, snuggled under the covers and fell, seconds later, into sleep.