Athena
The name given at birth is not always the name that makes us who we are. But when a name is stolen, something remains behind to remember it.
— Fragment XL, The Lunar Codex
Seraphina had never heard the name before.
That was the first thing she knew.
The second was that Elara’s mother was looking directly at her.
“Athena?”
The woman said it differently this time.
Not louder.
If anything, softer.
Like saying it twice might break something.
Seraphina’s hand was still behind her ear. The mark beneath her fingers had gone warm again.
Beside her, Darian let the leather strap fall.
It hit the floor with a soft slap.
Caleb moved closer.
Neither touched her.
Not yet.
Elara looked from her mother to Seraphina.
“Who is Athena?”
Her mother didn’t answer.
She kept staring at Seraphina.
Her father had gone pale.
Seraphina lowered her hand.
“I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
Her mother took another step.
Seraphina stepped back.
Caleb’s hand caught her hip before she backed into the table.
The woman stopped immediately.
That helped.
Seraphina wasn’t sure why.
Maybe because she hadn’t kept coming.
Whatever the reason, the distance mattered.
Elara got to her feet.
“Mom.”
Her mother looked at her then.
“Who is Athena?”
Her father pulled out a chair and sat down.
That was somehow worse.
Elara stared at him.
“Dad?”
He rubbed both hands over his face.
Her mother looked back at Seraphina.
“How old are you?”
Seraphina frowned.
“What?”
“Your age. How old are you?”
“Why?”
The woman pressed a hand against her mouth.
Seraphina’s irritation disappeared.
There was nothing threatening in her face.
There was grief.
Raw enough that Seraphina looked away from it.
Darian bent and picked up the strap he’d dropped. He set it on the table instead of putting it back in the bag.
The fire cracked behind them.
One of the dogs scratched at the door.
No one moved to let it in.
Elara crossed the room.
“Mom, you’re scaring me.”
Her mother reached for her.
Elara took her hand.
“Tell me what’s happening.”
Her father looked toward the stairs.
“Do you remember the marks?”
Elara frowned.
“What marks?”
“In your room.”
Seraphina stopped breathing.
The doorframe.
Tiny cuts in old wood.
A — 1.
A — 2.
Then nothing.
She looked at Elara.
Elara was already looking at her.
“No,” Seraphina said.
Nobody had asked her anything.
She said it anyway.
Her father closed his eyes.
Seraphina felt Caleb’s hand tighten against her hip.
Her mother looked at the side of Seraphina’s head again.
“The mark.”
Seraphina’s fingers went back to it.
“What about it?”
“May I see it?”
Every muscle in Caleb’s body went rigid.
Seraphina could feel it through the gold connection before he moved at all.
Darian’s silver tightened too.
She looked at them.
“I’m fine.”
Caleb didn’t look convinced.
Neither did Darian.
Seraphina turned her head and pushed her hair aside.
Elara’s mother made a broken sound.
Her father stood so quickly the chair scraped backward across the floor.
Seraphina dropped her hair.
“All right. Somebody needs to start explaining.”
Elara's mother was crying now.
Quietly.
That made Seraphina more uncomfortable than if she’d been screaming.
Elara put an arm around her.
“Mom?”
Her mother gripped Elara’s hand.
“When you were little, you used to ask why there were marks on the frame below yours.”
Elara stared at her.
“I did?”
“You were four. Maybe five.”
“What did you tell me?”
Her parents looked at each other.
Her father answered.
“We told you they were old.”
Elara’s expression changed.
“You lied.”
“Yes.”
The word landed heavily in the room.
Seraphina folded her arms and immediately regretted it when her shoulder protested.
Darian noticed.
Of course he did.
She ignored him.
“Why?”
Elara’s father looked at Seraphina.
“Because they weren’t Elara’s.”
“I figured that out.”
“Seraphina.”
Caleb’s warning was quiet.
“What?”
“Maybe give him a second.”
“I’ve had approximately thirty seconds to discover I’m potentially connected to mysterious marks on Elara’s bedroom wall. I’m running low on patience.”
Under any other circumstances, Caleb might have smiled.
He didn’t.
Elara’s mother wiped her face.
“They were Athena’s.”
Silence settled over the room.
Seraphina stared at her.
The fire shifted.
A log collapsed inward, sending sparks against the grate.
Elara’s hand slowly fell from her mother’s arm.
“Athena lived here?”
Her mother nodded.
Seraphina heard herself ask, “Who was she?”
Her mother looked at her.
That same terrible grief crossed her face.
“Is.”
Seraphina frowned.
“What?”
“Who she is.”
Her father came to stand beside his wife.
For the first time since they’d arrived, Elara’s mother reached for him instead of Elara.
He took her hand.
“Athena is our daughter.”
Elara didn’t move.
Seraphina didn’t either.
Caleb’s hand disappeared from her hip.
Not because he was pulling away.
He moved it to hers.
His fingers closed around them.
Seraphina stared at Elara’s parents.
She understood the words individually.
Together, they made no sense.
Elara spoke first.
“Your daughter?”
Her mother nodded.
“You had another daughter?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Before you.”
Elara took a step backward.
Her heel caught the edge of the rug.
She looked toward the stairs.
Seraphina knew exactly what she was seeing.
A — 1.
A — 2.
Then nothing.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Her mother’s face crumpled.
“We thought she was dead.”
Elara stopped.
Seraphina felt Caleb’s fingers tighten around hers.
Darian had moved closer on her other side.
Nobody spoke.
Outside, the dog scratched at the door again.
This time Elara’s father crossed the room and opened it.
Bran trotted inside, shook himself hard enough to scatter droplets across the floor, and immediately headed for Elara.
Elara sank onto the sofa.
The dog pushed his head beneath her hand.
She touched him automatically.
Seraphina wished desperately for something equally ordinary to do.
There was nothing.
“How?” Elara asked.
Her father closed the door.
“She disappeared.”
Elara looked up.
“Disappeared?”
“She was taken.”
The mark behind Seraphina’s ear burned.
Her hand flew to it.
Darian caught the movement.
“Seraphina?”
“It’s fine.”
It wasn’t.
The warmth had become a steady pulse.
Her mother saw.
“That mark was there when she was born.”
Seraphina’s fingers stopped.
No one in the room moved.
Her mother continued.
“Small. Right there behind her ear.”
Seraphina lowered her hand.
“A lot of people have birthmarks.”
“Not that one.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I know my daughter’s mark.”
The answer wasn’t angry.
That somehow made it harder to dismiss.
Seraphina pulled her hair forward over her shoulder.
“You’re saying you think I’m her.”
Her mother looked at her for a long moment.
“Yes.”
Elara stood.
“Wait.”
She looked between them.
“Wait.”
Seraphina knew where her mind had gone because hers had finally reached the same place.
“No.”
Elara pointed at her parents.
“If Athena was your daughter—”
“Elara.”
“—and she was born before me—”
“Elara.”
Her gaze snapped to Seraphina.
Seraphina stared back.
“Oh, absolutely not.”
Caleb made a strange sound.
She looked at him.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You almost did.”
“I really didn’t.”
Darian rubbed his mouth.
Seraphina looked at him.
“Are you laughing?”
“No.”
“You are.”
“This doesn’t seem like a good time.”
“It isn’t.”
Elara stared at all three of them.
“Can we please focus on the part where apparently Seraphina might be my sister?”
There it was.
Sister.
The word hit harder than Athena had.
Seraphina looked at Elara.
Elara looked equally horrified.
That helped a little.
“You don’t know that,” Seraphina said.
Elara blinked.
“My mother just recognized your birthmark.”
“She hasn’t seen me since I was two.”
“If you’re Athena.”
“Which we don’t know.”
Her mother spoke quietly.
“I know.”
Seraphina turned.
“You can’t.”
“I changed your clothes. I bathed you. I held you when you were sick. I kissed that mark every night when I put you to bed.”
Seraphina had no answer for that.
Her father moved suddenly.
“Wait.”
He disappeared from the room and returned a few minutes later carrying a small wooden box. Her mother went still when she saw it.
He set it on the table and opened the lid.
Photographs.
After sifting through some, he pulled one free and held it out to Seraphina.
A little girl, maybe a year old, sat wrapped in a blanket with her head turned toward whoever held the camera. Fine dark hair curled around one ear.
The mark was there.
Small. Pale. Unmistakable.
Seraphina stared at it.
Then her mother touched the photograph.
“There.”
Slightly higher, almost hidden beneath the baby’s hairline, was a dark freckle.
Seraphina went very still.
Her hand rose behind her ear, fingers moving past the mark to the spot above it.
She knew exactly what they would find there.
Caleb did too.
She saw it in his face.
“Don’t,” she said.
He closed his mouth.
Seraphina looked back at the photograph.
One mark could be coincidence.
Two was getting considerably harder to argue with.
“You hated having your hair brushed. You used to run away from me and hide behind your father.”
Her father gave a broken laugh.
“You weren’t very good at hiding.”
“She’s still not,” Caleb said.
Seraphina turned on him.
He lifted both hands.
“Sorry.”
Elara made a sound suspiciously close to a laugh.
Her mother did too.
Then covered her mouth and started crying again.
Seraphina couldn’t do this.
She pulled her hand from Caleb’s.
“I need air.”
“Seraphina—”
“I said I need air.”
Caleb stopped.
Darian didn’t follow her either.
She loved them both for that.
She hated that she loved them for it.
Seraphina opened the door.
Cold evening air hit her face.
She stepped outside.
The yard was muddy.
Seraphina discovered that as her boot sank nearly to the ankle beside the step.
“Perfect.”
She yanked it free.
One of the chickens wandered past.
Seraphina glared at it.
The chicken showed no remorse.
She walked toward the fence.
The sky had cleared enough to show stars between the clouds. Water still dripped from the roof behind her.
She rested her good arm on the fence.
Athena.
She tried the name silently.
Nothing.
No memory.
No flash of recognition.
No little girl running through this yard.
Nothing.
She looked toward the house.
Light glowed behind the kitchen windows.
Somewhere upstairs was a doorframe she’d touched a few hours earlier.
Her doorframe.
Maybe.
“No.”
She wasn’t doing that yet.
She heard the door open behind her.
Footsteps crossed the yard.
Only one set.
She knew who it was before he spoke.
“Your boot is covered in mud.”
Darian.
Seraphina looked down.
“So it is.”
He stopped beside her.
For a while they watched the dark field.
“Did Caleb send you?”
“No.”
“Where is he?”
“Inside.”
“Why?”
“Elara’s mother gave him more pie.”
Seraphina looked at him.
Darian’s mouth moved.
She laughed despite herself.
“That traitor.”
“He said something about emotional support requiring adequate nutrition.”
“That sounds like him.”
“He also wanted to come after you.”
Seraphina looked back toward the field.
“You stopped him?”
“No.”
That surprised her.
Darian leaned against the fence.
“He decided you asked for space.”
Seraphina swallowed.
“And you ignored that?”
“You asked for air.”
She looked at him.
“I’m outside.”
“You are.”
“You’re annoying.”
“I’ve been told.”
She rested her head briefly against his shoulder.
Darian stayed still.
After a moment, his hand found hers.
“I don’t remember them.”
“I know.”
“I don’t remember this place.”
“I know.”
“She looked at me like she’d been waiting her whole life.”
Darian didn’t answer.
Seraphina rubbed her thumb across his fingers.
“What am I supposed to do with that?”
“I don’t know.”
She looked up.
He shrugged slightly.
“You’re asking the wrong person if you want useful answers.”
“You usually have useful answers.”
“I have books.”
“Same thing.”
“Not tonight.”
Seraphina looked back toward the house.
“Do you think she’s right?”
“Yes.”
Her head snapped toward him.
Darian winced.
“Was I supposed to lie?”
“You could’ve hesitated.”
“I considered it.”
“For how long?”
“Before I walked out here.”
Seraphina elbowed him.
With the wrong arm.
Pain shot through her shoulder.
She hissed.
Darian immediately turned.
“Don’t.”
“You hurt yourself.”
“Yeah, It's kind of hard not to notice.”
“Let me—”
“No.”
He stopped.
Seraphina exhaled.
Then held out her arm.
“You can check it.”
Darian carefully touched the edge of the bandage beneath her sleeve.
The ordinary familiarity of the action settled something inside her.
She watched his hands.
“Seraphina.”
“Hmm?”
“If they’re right, you don’t have to become someone else.”
She went still.
Darian adjusted the edge of her sleeve.
“You’re still you.”
Her throat tightened.
“That was dangerously close to being profound.”
“I’ll try not to do it again.”
“Please.”
The door opened behind them.
Caleb stepped onto the porch with a plate.
Seraphina stared.
“Is that pie?”
He looked at it.
“Yes.”
“You brought pie?”
“I wasn’t sure how long this crisis was going to take.”
Darian held out his hand.
Caleb moved the plate away.
“Get your own.”
Seraphina laughed.
It hurt.
She didn’t care.
Caleb came down the steps and held the fork toward her.
She took a bite.
“Better?”
“No.”
“Want another?”
“Yes.”
He handed her the plate.
For a few minutes, Seraphina stood between her mates in a muddy yard eating pie while trying not to think about the possibility that the house behind her might once have been hers.
It didn’t fix anything.
It helped.
The door opened again.
This time Elara stood there.
She had wrapped a blanket around her shoulders.
“Seraphina?”
Seraphina looked at her.
Elara hesitated.
“My parents want to show us something.”
“Us?”
“Yeah.”
Seraphina handed the plate back to Caleb.
“What?”
Elara looked toward the upstairs window.
“Athena’s room.”
Seraphina’s stomach dropped.
Elara swallowed.
“I think it’s my room now.”
The mark behind Seraphina’s ear pulsed once.
Seraphina looked up at the house.
At the window she’d stood beside earlier.
At the room with the faded marks carved into its doorframe.
A — 1.
A — 2.
Then nothing.
Darian’s fingers closed around hers.
Caleb stepped beside her.
Seraphina started toward the house.
