Page 11 of These Immortal Truths
Anna’s lip trembles, a prelude to the tears threatening to spill over her cheeks. “But where will I go?”
“Anywhere. Don’t you see?” Her hands lower, clasping hers. “The world is yours to enjoy, yours to savor. Don’t squander the gift you’ve been given on this empty corner of it.”
Her gaze is without end and, in that moment, Anna recognizes the same ageless wisdom she saw in Khiran. In this way, they are the same. Eira is older than she appears and more than what she seems.
“You’re not human.”
Eira laughs, the sound rich and warm. “Just figuring that out, are you? Did you think Khiran just dropped you off with some old crone?”
“I thought he was just getting rid of me,” she murmurs. The truth of the confession is an ache over her heart—a bruise she’s buried with time and avoidance. “He said it was so I could learn from you, but I thought that was just an excuse.”
“Khiran has too many flaws to name,” Eira hums. “The greatest is caring too much about things he shouldn’t.”
“That doesn’t sound like a flaw.”
She waves a hand. “This is a lesson Time will teach you. Or it won’t. Khiran has yet to learn it himself despite my efforts, so I won’t waste my breath.”
Anna frowns, irritated. “It’s been years and he hasn’t even bothered to visit. I hardly think he cares.”
Thick salt and pepper brows rise. “Hasn’t he?”
Anna’s argument withers into bitter realization.
She thinks of all the patients Eira insisted she treat alone over the years—how she barely afforded them a glance before handing over their care.
She thinks of the ring on her finger.
A stumbled step back, Anna grips the table for support and distantly registers the sound of a dish smashing at her feet. She doesn’t flinch. Neither does Eira. They are caught in a tangled web of half-truths; the strands woven over years without Anna ever noticing. “You knew.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She shrugs. “Not my business.”
Her words sting; a slap of betrayal. This whole time, she had believed Eira to be a friend—and maybe she was, in her own small way—but now Anna realizes what she should have probably suspected from the beginning. Her loyalties lie withhimfirst.
Eira sighs, no doubt catching her flash of hurt. “You came to me to learn. You’ve done that and then some. There is nothing left for me to teach you.”
Hands clenching in her skirts, Anna fights to keep her voice from cracking. “Is that all? Am I only worth your time if I’m your student?”
Eira takes her hands, an anchor in the storm. Her calm eyes, crystalline and deep, remind Anna of the legendary waters said to heal all ailments. “Dear Child, you are worthmore.” Her lips lift at the corners as her gaze sweeps over Anna’s face. “He chose well.”
“But for what?” she whispers, pulse drumming in her ears. “What have I been chosenfor?”
She pats the back of her hand. “To put some good back into the world.”
CHAPTER FOUR
She’s still a sparrow of a woman. Hollow-boned and fragile. Easily broken. He wonders how long it will take for her to realize that the thing that makes her weak is the same that will allow her to fly.
THEMEADOW
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She doesn’t leave the cottage.
Not at first.
