Eira
Logan knew Eira had been the first Keeper—he’d seen her name in Keeper ancestries plenty of times—but in this genealogy her name was linked to Bosque’s. In fact, the rest of the family names on the tree were familiar to Logan. Though, in keeping with its strange form, this particular chart had been created in an inverse pattern from most genealogies. The oldest generation, Eira and Bosque, seemed to be at the bottom of the page, the base of the tree. Which meant . . .
It didn’t take Logan long to find his own name. It was one of only two names at the uppermost branches of the tree: Logan Bane and Seamus Doran.
What the—
Logan forced his gaze to return to the bottom of the page and then he traced the lineage charted on the tree slowly and carefully. He started with his side of the family first.
He recognized his grandparents’ names, Cavan and Josephine Bane, but in this ancestry Josephine’s maiden name was included. And it was Mar.
Not ready to accept the implication, Logan kept reading. Cavan and Josephine had a daughter, Marise. Logan’s mother. A mother who’d died in childbirth and he’d never known. His father’s name, Efron, was scribbled next to his mother’s almost carelessly. Logan knew too well why that was. Though he’d rarely spoken of it to Logan, all the Keepers whispered about Efron’s unlikely rise to power. After all, he’d been elevated at the whim of Marise, whose desires couldn’t be denied because she was directly descended from Eira’s original line.
And Bosque’s. Eira and Bosque’s. Logan swallowed hard as he corrected his thought.
No wonder his family had been accorded so much power. If this chart proved truthful, it meant that Eira hadn’t simply sworn an oath to Bosque and received his power in return; she’d also borne his children.
Logan’s grandmother was Bosque and Eira’s daughter, but they’d also had a son. Fial Mar.
And Fial Mar’s son was named Tristan.
The traitor.
The traitor because he’d fallen in love with a Searcher named Sarah Doran, forsaking his heritage and his kind. They’d married. They’d had a son: Seamus.
Shay Doran is my cousin. And Eira is our great-grandmother.
Logan stared at the chain linking Eira’s name to Bosque’s for a long time.
Bosque Mar is my great-grandfather.
Was it even possible? And if it was true, then why the secrecy?
When Efron had ordered Logan to shepherd newcomer Shay Doran around the school and Vail, calling him Bosque Mar’s “nephew,” he’d known it had been a hoax. What did it mean if all along not only Shay but also Logan himself were related to Bosque?
Logan turned over his hand to gaze at the scar on his palm. My blood. Bosque’s blood.
You’ve found the key.
Is this what Ren meant? The key is my lineage?
A fist tightened around Logan’s heart.
I betrayed him. We share blood and I’m the one who made it possible for Shay to close the Rift. The two remaining descendants of Bosque and Eira Mar and we’re the ones who sent him back.
Regret.
Logan didn’t know if he could take much more of it. He traced the shape of the scar with his fingertip.
“I don’t know about you, but mine’s been kind of itchy.”
Logan looked up. Chase stood in the doorway with his laptop.
“I think that means it’s healing,” Logan said. “What’s on your mind?”
“This.” Chase walked over and opened his laptop.
Logan quickly closed the book and pushed it away, making space for Chase to sit. Whether truth or fiction, Logan needed to know more about his real ancestry before he was willing to share its existence with anyone else.
Chase positioned the computer in his lap, angling the screen so Logan could look over his shoulder.
“‘Historic Rowan Estate,’” Logan read from the screen. “There’s a website.”
“Apparently they’re giving guided tours.” Chase smirked.
“I didn’t realize the Searchers were that strapped for cash,” Logan murmured.
Chase shook his head. “I don’t believe they are. I’m guessing that they’ve opened the mansion up to the public so that it doesn’t present too tempting a target for thieves of occult relics.”
“Is that a criminal specialization?” Logan asked, half smiling. “Occult theft?”
“You should know.”
“I’d bet I’m the exception,” Logan told Chase as he peered at the screen. “So they’ve made Rowan Estate into a historic landmark. What’s next: spelunking expeditions through Haldis Cavern?”
Chase laughed. “You have to give the people what they want.”
“So are you showing me this for a reason?” Logan asked. “Or are you just trying to reassure me that the Searchers are too busy bringing in the tourists to come looking for us?”
“I thought I might take a long weekend, see what this tour is all about,” Chase replied casually. “Do you know that I’ve never been west of the Mississippi?”
Logan waited for Chase to laugh, but when the other boy held him with an unwavering gaze, Logan frowned. “You’re not serious.”
“I’m very serious,” Chase said. “I’d take Audrey, of course.”
“What the hell are you and your sister going to accomplish by going to Vail?” Logan couldn’t deny that he was intrigued, but he was also irritated. If Chase viewed this trip as a weekend romp with a dash of adventure, he hadn’t begun to grasp how dangerous the Searchers were.
“Stop looking at me like that.” Chase made a disgusted sound. “I know what I’m getting into.”
“Convince me.” Logan felt a little like they were playing a game of chicken, each waiting for the other to flinch.
Chase’s expression of irritation mirrored Logan’s. “Fine. We’re spinning our wheels here. You summoned that ghost, who said you have to get what you lost. And whatever that is—you could fill me in anytime, by the way—it’s with the dead Guardian’s sister.”
“Ariadne,” Logan offered. He felt a twinge of guilt. Chase and Audrey had taken him in without hesitation, yet he too often treated them like petulant children who had the gall to interfere with his game. Unbidden, Logan’s mind conjured the great dead tree.