“Tori,” he said. “They said you were here.” He coughed, spitting red flecks onto the white sheets. He grimaced in pain and clutched a hand to his side.

“What happened?” I asked softly. “Nobody told me.” Or perhaps they had, and I had simply tuned them out.

“Boar,” he said, gritting his teeth. “Caught me … by surprise.”

“Father…”

“Don’t think I’m gonna … if I don’t … don’t make it … you need to know about …” He coughed up blood again. “Your mother.”

It was suddenly difficult to breathe. “Mother?” I whispered.

“Midie,” he spoke my mother’s name, and his voice faltered. “Midie…” He trailed off to sleep, leaving me with eyes full of tears and a mind full of questions.

I didn’t want to wake him. His breathing was good, if still shallow. I quietly rose from the chair and left the room.

I didn’t have any memories of my mother. When I was younger, I used to ask about her. But I quickly learned that any mention of my mother’s name closed people’s mouths faster than my questions about the origins of babies. But as I grew older, some of those childish questions were answered. The ones about my mother were not.

With my father unable to speak, there was only one man who could give me answers right now. Determined, I made my way to the King’s chambers. No doubt he would be there, in the richly decorated sitting room. He wasn’t the type to visit his own brothers’ death bed.

“Don’t even ask,” were the first words out of my uncle’s mouth.

I blinked in confusion. “What?”

“We’re not bringing in a Healer for him.”

I shook my head. “I know that.”

“Then what do you want?” He met my eyes.

I matched his gaze. “I want to know about my mother.”

“Ah ha. Yes, I suppose my brother isn’t in a state to tell you. Has he passed yet?”

I shook my head.

“Always was a fighter,” the King muttered before clearing his throat. “Yes, your mother. She was a beautiful and wonderful woman, and your father loved her very much. But, if she had a flaw, it was that she coveted power.” He paused and studied my reaction. I kept my face impassive. I had spent too much time in the palace to not know how to mask my emotions.

“I do not believe,” he continued after a moment, “that this was her sole reason for staying with your father, as some have speculated. Indeed, I’m not convinved that she even thought of it herself until she arrived at the palace.

“However, when she found herself surrounded by servants to tend to her every whim, and her every desire satiated, she started to fall under the spell. I myself warned her, warned them both about excessive arrogance and narcissism. She refused to listen, and your father was so besotted with her that he defended her with every breath.

“When Midie became pregnant, it was worse. She ran the servants ragged with errands. I tolerated it because I had no choice. I was not going to evict a pregnant woman, and your father convinced me it would pass when the child was born and she turned her attention there.

“About a year after you were born, I realized we were mistaken. Her corruption had spread and taken hold in her mind, yet your father could not see it. I admit, I too was weak. Too weak to sever her from the palace, from her child, as I should have done. After all, I thought, there was no guarantee that anything would come of it.

“Some people can handle the Madness in their minds; others can’t. Your mother… I’ll spare you the details, but she killed a few people before one of our Quis took her down.”

“How many?” Up until this point I had been listening quietly, but I couldn’t help interjecting the quiet question. My mind yearned to know the full extent of my mother’s illness, even as my heart suffered from the knowledge.

“Five,” my uncle replied quietly. “Three men and two women.”

“How?”

“She was a Healer. It wasn’t pretty. They aged decades in the few minutes she had her power turned on them. You could say they died of old age.”

“And then she was killed?”

“Yes.”

It all made sense. No wonder nobody would speak of her.

“Anything else?” the King said.

“Who killed her?” Hesitation flickered across his face.

“Nobody you would know.” He lowered his head back to the desk, silently dismissing me.

I lingered for a few moments as the silence grew, then turned and stalked from the room. Overcome by conflicting emotions, I wandered the halls of the palace for a time. I returned to my father’s room at one point, but he was sleeping, and I didn’t want to disturb him. Besides, I wasn’t sure I wanted to face him at the moment. How could he keep this from me?

Eventually, I returned to my room and fell into a restless sleep filled with mangled birds, infected wounds and a woman shrieking while the people around her withered and died. Needless to say, I awoke in the morning less rested than when I had taken to bed.

Still, the night had not passed uselessly. I found my anger and frustration with my father had abated somewhat, and early in the morning hours I found myself wandering the hallsof the palace, making my way tomyfather’s room. It gave me a chance to think.

I’d always wanted to be a Healer. Now, that dream was solidified by the fact that my mother had been one. If I became a Healer, I knew I could contain the Madness, and devote my life to helping others. I didn’t give a thought to how my family would react. For some strange reason, I seemed to think they would be proud of me, support me, for my mother’s sake.

I was wrong.

When I arrived at the room, the first thing that struck me was the smell. A terrible odor was seeping into the hallway, even through the closed door. There was nobody else around, so I pushed open the door. I nearly gagged. Covering my nose and mouth with a sleeve, I made my way to the bed. The sheets were wet with blood and pus. I tried to lift them to examine the wound, but they were attached to him. I peeled them away carefully. As I did, I watched for somesign that he was still alive. His chest moved, but barely, and in an irregular rythm.