Page 58 of The Last Wish of Bristol Keats
Eris saw the traits in Tyghan’s expression that he had been noting for twenty-six years, things he had always forced himself to ignore, like the dimple in his left cheek when he smiled, the scowl wrinkling his brow when he was angry, and the things Dahlia had noted too.His power, his build, his curiosity, even his temper, they come from you. Only his mother’s black hair and striking blue eyes managed to obscure the other half of his lineage.
“I found ways to bury my past,” Eris answered, “but there are a lot of things I should have told you. Long ago.”
Tyghan angled his head to the side. “Like?”
A storm surged in Eris’s chest. Four words. Four words tore through him,I am your father. Words he had always imagined saying. But in the past, he couldn’t.
“Eris?” Tyghan prompted. But Eris saw Tyghan’s mother looking back at him.It’s all right, Eris. It’s time. Tell him. Eris had loved her. He’d been afraid to admit that too.
“When I returned to Danu, your mother was grieving. So was I. We were both . . . broken. We became friends as we healed together. Sometimes we even danced to chase away the grief, and over time, she and I—”
The door to the garden flew open and Quin exploded through it, his eyes wide and expectant. “She’s awake, and she’s screaming for you!”
CHAPTER 43
Tyghan!”
Bristol’s arms thrashed through the air. She gulped in ragged breaths, the air burning in her lungs, her eyes stinging, everything too bright. Someone was trying to push her arms down, pushing on her shoulders. “Tyghan—”
“He’s coming, dear. We called for him.”
“Shhh. It’s all right. You are all right.”
Camille came into view. “You’re waking up. That’s all. Coming out of it is always a bit startling,” Izzy said.
Bristol looked at her hands. A sharp blue nail bed on her index finger was still there. Despair engulfed her. “It didn’t work. I still have the tick.”
“No, no,” Izzy said, “the tick is gone. That small sign is all that’s left. We call it a vestige. It will fade too, just like the others.”
“Vestige of what?”
Camille stroked her hand. “You’re a shape-shifter, darling, that’s all. A vestige is a reminder of that. Like Julia’s vertical cat pupils.”
“A shape-shifter?”
“Yes, you have two forms to your nature.”
“And the scales?”
“Gone. The tick made the magic inside you unstable. You were navigating a shaky line between your human state and your other one. But now your magic is restored, and that shaky line is gone, along with the tick. Isn’t that great news? The greedy fool gave you up at the very last second.”
But Bristol was still caught up on the wordsvestigeandshape-shifter. They were thick on her tongue. “What is my other state?”
The Sisters exchanged a glance and deferred to Jasmine. She stepped closer, resting her hand on Bristol’s arm. “We don’t know, and you don’t have to know either. You never have to change. In fact, we don’t recommend it. It takes great effort, and when some fae try to change at this point in life, they can get stuck in their other form. Some can never change back. They can forget their old lives.”
“It has happened,” Adela said.
Bristol eyed Adela. There was something in her tone. Something grim that—
“But there is no need to ever change,” Camille joined in, her plump cheeks flushed. “With the tick gone, your powers as a bloodmarked are fully restored. You have everything you need, just as you are! We only tell you in case you ever feel any inclination, an intense burning here”—she drew a line down Bristol’s sternum—“that you ignore it. That’s all you have to do.”
Bristol nodded hesitantly, still trying to absorb their words. She didn’t want to change. Not ever. She wanted to go home to her sisters looking as she always had, with no scales, no claws, and whatever else might have appeared, like fins, maybe even something that condemned her to live in the ocean. She only wanted to be who she always was. One fingernail? Even if it didn’t fade, it was nothing. She could deal with it. She sat up and eased her legs over the side of the treatment table. “May I have a mirror?” she asked. She had to be sure. She had to see with her own eyes that the tick was really gone.
Adela brought two mirrors, one for behind and one for Bristol to hold, and Camille opened her gown so she could view her whole back. Bristol swallowed, taking a moment to soak it in. Her back was smooth. The scales were gone. But more importantly, the ugly beast beneath her skin that had fed on her magic ever since she was a baby was gone too. She bent over, clutching her stomach, and sobbed.
Tyghan heard the cries as he approached the treatment room, and clammy sweat sprang to his face. He threw the door open, slamming it against the wall, and saw Bristol doubled over, crying. Gods, she was alive but—
“What’s wrong?” he yelled to Jasmine as he ran to Bristol and searched for injuries.
