Page 182 of Salt in the Seas
“Now he’s free from obligations, at least the ones imposed on him by our parents and our positions. He’s free to make choices about whom he serves and how.”
“And what about you?” Aeliana asked.
“I will never be free,” Enla said. “But this is also my choice. It’s one very few could understand, but I’ve taken it on willingly.”
Aeliana nodded. She probably understood even less than others who knew Enla well. But after fighting through the question of whether she was Vendaran or Lorvandan, she felt a small sense of camaraderie with Enla’s position.
“Sometimes in life we aren’t given choices,” Aeliana said, “and yet the path we’re forced down is still the one we would have chosen.”
Enla’s eyes cleared, and the first real smile lit up her face. It reminded Aeliana of Gaeren, and her chest seized with a need to see him.
“Very well spoken,” Enla said, a teasing tilt to her lips. “You must be the daughter of a high priestess.”
Before Aeliana could turn the conversation back around to her questions about the plan Enla had spoken of, the guard announced Marnok’s arrival. Both women turned, and Marnok hesitated in the doorway before giving a stiff bow toward Enla. She waved off the formality and patted the chair next to her before rising.
“It’s time I go see my brother anyway, now that he’s bathed and eaten. I suspect he won’t wait long to visit you, Aeliana, so your reunion with Marnok will need to be brief.” She glanced meaningfully at Marnok’s hands, which currently tugged uncomfortably at his collar.
Aeliana tensed, realizing Enla had probably already seen how this conversation played out and that was why she wanted Aeliana to have it. It was unsettling to know that Enla was both aware of Aeliana’s need for answers about the tattoos and that Enla already had them.
But the other woman smiled serenely and gave Aeliana one last kiss on the cheek before sauntering out the door, taking all but the original two guards with her. The door remained open, and Aeliana debated shutting it but figured the guards wouldn’t let her. Besides, her questions for Marnok had nothing to do with the royal family or politics.
“Are you well?” Aeliana asked, suddenly shy as she remembered Marnok’s discomfort with her when they’d last seen each other.
He shrugged. “Well enough. We’ve been imprisoned for two days, but your arrival changed that. It could be worse.”
“Why were you imprisoned in the first place?” Aeliana asked.
Marnok glanced at the door where the sleeve and sword point of one of the guards was visible. “I believe it’s because your mother is a Wyndren. They weren’t ready to trust her. Even Gaeren was imprisoned with us.”
Aeliana sucked in a breath. “What?”
Marnok pulled grapes off a cluster, his hands shaking and reminding her of how hungry he must be. “It seems he’s on the outs with his parents, and even his sister’s goodwill wasn’t enough to save him. You, on the other hand—something about your arrival made the king reconsider.”
Aeliana shrank back in her chair, not wanting to evaluate what that could be. Besides, that wasn’t the conversation she needed to have with him.
“Marnok,” she began, then hesitated. “I know my mother showed you some of your past.”
His hands stilled over the cheese, but their shaking seemed to increase.
“I expect you’re not ready to share it, and that’s fine, but I wondered if she showed you anything that might explain the tattoos on your hands. If that might be something you could help me understand.”
With a frown, he took a piece of cheese, then popped it into his mouth along with several grapes. As he chewed, Aeliana watched a number of emotions pass through his expression, settling on some sort of determined resignation.
“Apparently it’s not a well-known fact, but some of the highest witches in the various covens use tattoos to mark their status on their hands.” He splayed his palms in front of him, allowing Aeliana to catch how the intricate pattern appeared somewhat faded compared to the darker lines on the backs of his hands.
“So that’s why you went to the witches?” Her mind raced with the implications.
“I come from one of the highest orders among the witches.” Hisbrow pinched with pain. “They live deeper in the Myndren Mountains, near Mt. Vescano. Other covens travel there to make sacrifices at the mouth of the volcano during the equinoxes and solstices.”
“My mother said you went there,” she said, “but she made it sound like you were looking into the possibility of a witch having cursed her and Mayvus.”
He gave a short nod. “It served a dual purpose.”
“And you found your family?” she pressed.
He gave another short nod. “They don’t exactly try to hide themselves. If you find the volcano, you find the witches. But what does this have to do with my tattoos?”
Aeliana set down her biscuit, her appetite gone. “When we were on Sayhla Island, Lady Merinnia gave me a memory of a woman with tattooed hands cursing my mother. It seems you all had the right idea when you thought it was connected to the witches.”
