“And when you returned? Did you continue to age?”
“Yes.” She nods. The loose skin under her chin jiggles. “I don’t fear death, but I could have done without all of the body aches.”
I realize with a start that she is laughing under her breath, as if her plight were actually funny. I suppose, being locked away in this tiny cabin in the woods, the tiniest thing might bring you humor… or a touch of insanity.
“What does this book contain?” I ask, drawing her back from her recollections
“Ah, yes.” She opens the cover and flips through the pages. A faint musty aroma tickles my nose. The pages creak as she shifts them, yellowed and stiff. I wonder if it is as old as she is. “This is the Book of Testimony. It details all prophecies that’ve been handed down, both minor and large.”
“And Illyria is in there?” Bastien shifts, drawing his legs in so he can move closer
“Of course, dear boy, but she isn’t alone.” She taps her chin as she continues her search through the pages. “Haven’t you figured out yet that you are just as much a part of Illyria’s destiny as Eamon is?
“I’m in there too?”
She lifts her gaze from the pages to shoot me an amused glance. “Not too bright, though, huh?”
I struggle to hide my smirk. “Please, continue with your story.”
“Very well.” Sliding her finger along a page near the middle, she nods. “Here it is. What your friend Kyan told you was true. There are no mistakes with our genetic matching sequences. It is perfectly flawless. No one person has ever received two sets of genes before… until you.” She stares pointedly at me.
“But why? What’s so different about Illyria?”
“My dear boy.” She gasps, placing a curled hand over her heart. “You assume it is she that is the special one here, but you are mistaken. Your circumstance, and Eamon’s as well, is far more crucial.” She pauses for effect, making sure Bastien and I are both giving her our full attention. “The reason Illyria has your DNA, as well as Eamon’s, is because you two are fraternal twins.”
Eleven
Eamon and Bastien… brothers? The idea is beyond ridiculous, yet Sariana hardly looks as if she is attempting to pull our leg. I glance over at Bastien. He looks stunned. His eyes are wide and unseeing, his face ashen, and his lips pressed together so tightly the color has fled from them.
“How is this possible?” I ask for him, knowing how desperately he must want to ask but is unable to do so.
Sariana’s smile is kind as she stares down at Bastien. I’m surprised to see a warm glow of motherly affection in her eyes. “I know how hard this must be for you to accept, but I assure you it is the truth.”
Bastien seems to find his voice. “You must be mistaken.”
“I am not.” She leans forward and clasps her hands together atop the pages. “I was your mother’s midwife.” His eyes clench shut as he shakes his head in denial. I watch, hurting for him as he struggles to accept her words. “Your mother and I have been close friends for many years. Even though she was far younger than I, she helped me through Liliana’s death.”
“Where is she?” Bastien begins to wring his hands in his lap. I can tell he needs to move, to release some of his energy, but there is hardly space to walk in this cramped room. “I have so many things I need to ask.”
“Patience, Bastien. There will be time for that later, but I assure you that she is pining for your return. It broke her heart to give up her sons.”
Bastien plunges his hands into his hair, beginning to rock slightly. “I have a brother,” he whispers.
“I guess that explains why you two are always at each other’s throats,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.
He blinks and then a hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “I never was too good at sharing.”
Although I know he meant it to be a joke, I don’t know what to say in response. He seems to realize the hidden depths to his statement and looks away. I turn back to Sariana. “Even if Bastien and Eamon are brothers, that still doesn’t explain how I got their genes. Surely someone would have noticed when I got two pairs instead of one, twins or not.”
The same strange massaging feeling I felt earlier passes over me. I stiffen. “Please don’t do that. I’m right here. You can ask me anything you need to know.”
The woman’s eyes widen. “You can feel that?”
“Of course. I just think it’s a bit rude,” I reply curtly.
Bastien kicks out his leg and bumps me. “Be polite.”