“And I thought myself so clever,” she said, “because even though I followed the prophecies, the ‘recipes,’ with your father, I also made you hard to find. I didn’t try to keep you. I didn’t leave you with anyone who had any connection to me. Except somehow Xaltorath knew. A fact she made clear when she attacked Lonezh. So I had a choice: agree to her terms or watch as she killed you.”

“You’re a goddess, aren’t you?” I stopped studying my hands for long enough to glare at her. “I mean, you’re here, you drove away Xaltorath. She called you Tya. You’re one of the Eight. Yet you couldn’t dismiss a single demon?”

“She’s not a single demon. She’s Xaltorath. A million screaming souls make up her identity, and some of those souls belong to god-kings. I risked your annihilation in such a fight. When a demon kills, it eats its victims, absorbs their souls. It’s never certain a soul can be recovered, and when it’s Xaltorath…” Tya shook her head. “Xaltorath wouldn’t have gone down easily. So we came to terms.”

“And what was it she wanted?”

“You. Access to you. And my noninterference.”

I closed my eyes. “Do you know why?”

“No, but Taja assures me we should look at it as a good sign. I don’t expect you to forgive me—”

“Good.”

Tya sighed. “I had my reasons.”

I found myself incapable of dealing with my tumult of emotions. I have no idea why the whole field didn’t spontaneously combust. I felt so angry at her, so angry at Qoran Milligreest. And both had proven they would have sacrificed thousands for me. But why? For what?

Why was I so important? Because I fit some demonic prophecy’s requirements? Because I’d “volunteered” for this in a life I didn’t remember? I wanted to scream at them both. I wanted to call them out as fools. The prophecies were a lie. I knew because demons had created them.

If there was one lesson I’d learned on Xaltorath’s knee, it was this: demons lie.

Demons always lie.

I opened my eyes again. “So my father is the reason Duke Kaen didn’t have me killed. And you’re the reason Relos Var didn’t have me killed. Because he likes to strike at his enemies through family members.”

“Yes.”

“Is your real name Irisia?”

Tya frowned. “Where did you hear that name?”

“An old woman named Wyrga.”

“There aren’t many who would remember my real name. Whoever she is, I imagine she’s quite a bit older than she appears.”

“And she appears quite old.” I sighed. “Fine. I know you’re my mother now. You may leave.”

Tya looked both surprised and saddened. “Janel, I had thought—”