“And to save yours,” Li’ra insists, growing impassioned. “Edwin cared deeply about you and your brothers. He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you alone in the West without protection.” Her expression darkens. “And he feared that one of you might possess true power.”

“Black Witch power,” I amend, feeling distraught.

Li’ra nods, a look of great sorrow in her eyes. “Edwin knew it was a possibility. And he didn’t want to see that power fall into the hands of the Gardnerians.”

“He hid my power from me,” I say as tears glass my eyes. “But he told me...before he died...” Grief tightens my throat and for a moment I can’t speak, can barely breathe. My cousin Or’myr’s long arm comes around me as a tear breaks free from Li’ra’s eyes, her own face tight with sorrow. “He told me,” I force out in a splintered voice, “that he was wrong to hide my power from me. He told me I should fight the Gardnerians.”

“You need to understand, Elloren,” Li’ra says, her own voice coarsened by tears. “The Mages thought nothing of killing anyone opposed to them. Edwin didn’t want any more of the people he loved dying. And... I think he felt the Mages couldn’t be fought. That the best one could hope for was to escape their notice.”

“But he changed his mind.”

Li’ra nods, seeming too overcome to say more. Trystan moves to console her, one hand coming to her arm, and she pats his hand appreciatively.

“So, you and Or’myr left the Western Realm,” I finally say as tears streak down my face.

Li’ra nods again, her mouth turning down in a trembling grimace. “Edwin gave us all his money. So we could get across the desert and get settled here.” Her voice fractures. “But I would have traded all that money to just have had him with us.” She breaks off, quietly crying, as the realization washes over me of why we were so poor growing up and always dependent on Aunt Vyvian, the stories of my uncle squandering all his money on expensive violins a complete fabrication.

And now it’s also clear why Uncle Edwin never employed Urisk servants, even when Aunt Vyvian offered to supply them, my imperious aunt often chiding my uncle for having my brothers and me do the housework, the barn work, the gardening, and the violin shopwork. I realize now why my uncle always seemed ready to break into tears when considering the Gaffneys’ Urisk farmworkers’ situation and how the Urisk were treated in general.

You had so much secret pain, I think, aching for him. I wish you could have told us what was in your heart. I wish Rafe and Trystan and I could have at least tried to console you.