“Okay,” Dad replied, seeming to believe me. “The Guard can talk to him tomorrow and verify his account.”
“I’m tired,” I said with a yawn. “I’m going to bed.”
“Will you check on your sister first?” Mum asked. “She’s been feeling out of sorts.”
“Sure,” I replied and left the room.
Upstairs, I knocked on Rebecca’s door. There was no answer, so I peeked my head in and found her asleep in her bed. A lamp shone from her bedside locker, casting a low light over her features and making her appear much younger than her twenty-nine years. Sometimes, I felt like I was the more capable one, despite being eleven years younger.
Not wanting to be alone, I pulled back the covers and climbed into bed next to her. I hadn’t done this since I was a kid. When I was little, it was like my sister hung the moon and stars. I thought she was this beautiful, perfect being, and I wanted to grow up to be just like her. It wasn’t until I grew older that I started to realise she wasn’t perfect. Rebecca had more demons than someone her age should have to carry, but her close relationship with our mother seemed to give her strength, and her studies in magical herbology gave her purpose.
Rebecca had always been closer to Mum than I was. It was like they shared a bond, one I’d never truly understand because they’d been through something together that I hadn’t. I didn’t allow myself to feel jealous of what they shared, though, mainly because I was so close with my dad. Whatever Rebecca and Mum shared, I had that with my father.
I stared at the ceiling, my mind wandering to what Rita had said about the dimension Granddad Martin was sent to. I wanted to know everything about it and what he experienced there. My stomach twisted to think about how he might’ve suffered. How he, a mere human man, became a pawn in a supernatural war he knew nothing about.
Beside me, Rebecca stirred. “Darya?” she asked, her voice groggy.
“Hey,” I replied softly. “Sorry for invading your bed. Mum said you weren’t feeling well, so I thought I’d stay here in case you needed anything.”
She turned over then sat up, resting back against the headboard. “That’s very thoughtful of you, but I’m okay. What happened to Mr Williams just brought back a lot of bad memories. I haven’t seen a dead body like that since I was a little girl.” A small shiver went through her.
“During the war, you mean?”
She nodded and drew the blanket up over her arms.
“Want to talk about it?”
“You already know the story,” Rebecca replied. “It isn’t a pleasant one.”
“I only know some parts of the story. What happened to Granddad Martin is still a bit of a mystery.”
She tucked some hair behind her ear and cast me a speculative glance. “You really want to hear about it?”
I nodded and motioned for her to tell me. Rebecca sighed and stared down at the floral pattern of her bedspread. “A long time ago, back when Mum first met Dad, there was a sorcerer named Theodore.”
“You mean Rita’s father?”
“Yes, but I don’t think she was aware he was her father at the time. Theodore was wreaking havoc in the city, so our parents and their friends banded together to banish him to another dimension.”
“Oreylia,” I said, and Rebecca glanced at me.
“Pardon?”
“I was eavesdropping downstairs,” I told her with a sheepish look. “Rita said she’s been researching the dimension, and that it’s called Oreylia.”
“Oh,” Rebecca said, rubbing her neck. I knew she didn’t enjoy talking about this. Her childhood had been traumatic, to say the least, so I appreciated her telling me about it. “Anyway, they successfully banished Theodore, and he went away for a while, but what our parents didn’t know was that he still had acolytes here in Tribane. It was a small group of witches and warlocks who wanted to bring Theodore back from the dimension, Oreylia, as you call it, and Marcel Girard was the ringleader. As a form of revenge against our mother, Marcel kidnapped Granddad Martin and used him as a sacrifice to bring Theodore back.”
“Was that what started the war?” I asked.
“No, that was only a small part of it. You have to remember that our city was a very different place when I was a girl. Tribane was divided in two. The Hawthorn River was a natural separator between the north and the south. In the north, you had the magical families, the dhampirs, and a very small handful of elves, shapeshifters, and demons. In the south, you had only vampires. I had no idea at the time, but I was a princess of the north side. My biological father, Governor Siegfried Pamphrock, ruled over our half of the city, while a vampire named Jeremy Whitfield ruled the south.”