by Jenna Glass
Mother of All is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2021 by Jenna Glass
Map copyright © 2019, 2020 by David Lindroth Inc.
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Del Rey, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.
Del Rey is a registered trademark and the Circle colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.
The map by David Lindroth was originally published in slightly different form in The Women’s War by Jenna Glass published by Del Rey, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, in 2019. It appeared in its present form in Queen of the Unwanted by Jenna Glass published by Del Rey, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, in 2020.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Glass, Jenna, author.
Title: Mother of all / Jenna Glass.
Description: New York: Del Rey, [2021] | Series: The women’s war; 3 | “A Del Rey trade paperback original”—Title page verso.
Identifiers: LCCN 2020046531 (print) | LCCN 2020046532 (ebook) | ISBN 9780525618423 (trade paperback) | ISBN 9780525618416 (ebook)
Subjects: GSAFD: Fantasy fiction.
Classification: LCC PS3602.L288 M68 2021 (print) | LCC PS3602.L288 (ebook) | DDC 813/.6—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020046531
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020046532
Ebook ISBN 9780525618416
randomhousebooks.com
Cover design: David G. Stevenson
Cover illustration: © Jonathan Bartlett
ep_prh_5.7.0_c0_r0
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Map
Part One: Schemes
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Part Two: Visions
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Part Three: Sacrifices
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Chapter Forty-three
Chapter Forty-four
Chapter Forty-five
Chapter Forty-six
Chapter Forty-seven
Chapter Forty-eight
Chapter Forty-nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-one
Epilogue
Dedication
Acknowledgments
By Jenna Glass
About the Author
Part One
SCHEMES
CHAPTER ONE
The windows were open to let in whatever fresh breezes they could, but the air in the royal apartments was nonetheless stifling. Having spent more than a year living in the desert, Tynthanal had thought himself inured to heat, but the climate here in Aaltah seemed far more oppressive than that of Women’s Well, where the air was bone-dry, and even in the worst heat of summer, the nights were cool. Here in Aaltah, the nearby sea added such a heavy dose of humidity that the air felt thick as porridge.
“Do sit down and eat,” his wife, Kailee, urged, and he reluctantly moved away from the window to join her at the table where a small supper had been laid for them.
Kailee’s face glowed with perspiration, and the few locks of hair that had escaped her headdress were plastered wetly to her neck, but she seemed to accept the discomfort with her customary serenity. A serenity Tynthanal envied as he tried futilely to push up the sleeves of his doublet.
“How I loathe civilian clothes,” he muttered. Custom required he set aside the comfortable shirts and trousers he’d worn in the military and don the doublet and breeches of a gentleman—with all the concomitant adornment—but he longed for the days when he could breathe inside his clothing.
Kailee smiled at him as she served herself a helping of stewed vegetables and ignored the beautifully roasted whole fish that took pride of place in the center of the table. Tynthanal frowned.
“I should have asked the cook to fillet it for you,” he said, shaking his head at himself. Their marriage was in its infancy, and he was still getting used to dealing with his wife’s unique challenges in life. It would be no easy feat to avoid fish bones when one could not see them.
Kailee shrugged. “I am used to making do. And I am not overly hungry.”
“Well, you don’t have to ‘make do’ anymore,” he said as he portioned out a serving of fish, inspecting it carefully for bones before sliding it onto her plate. “I think I got them all, but be cautious anyway.”
Her mouth quirked. Tynthanal was still learning how to read her expressions—he’d never realized before how much he’d relied on a person’s eyes to give away what she was feeling—but he thought he saw mild reproach. “I have eaten fish before. I know to be careful. And I could have served myself if I’d actually wanted the fish.”
Tynthanal winced and wished he were more at ease with his wife. It had been abundantly clear from the first moment that Kailee was far more self-sufficient than most people gave her credit for—and that she found it irritating, if not downright hurtful, when people offered unwanted help. He’d vowed not to be one of those people, yet it was astonishingly easy to fall into that trap. “My apologies,” he said, serving himself while wrestling with the guilt that was becoming his constant companion of late. In Women’s Well, Kailee had gained her freedom by marrying him, escaping the scrutiny of her father and stepmother—and Rhozinolm high society. And then he had abruptly snatched it back from her by accepting the regency and moving them to Aaltah, where her blindness would once again be treated as a source of shame. To make matters worse, he couldn’t even be a proper husband to her, for his heart had remained in Women’s Well with Chanlix and the child she carried. A pang of
longing struck him, but he shoved it aside and tried to stay present with the woman he had married. Just because he did not—could not—love her didn’t absolve him of his duties as a husband.
He shoved some fish into his mouth and promptly stabbed himself in the cheek with a fish bone. Kailee smirked when he extracted it from his mouth. Her worldly vision might not function, but with her Mindseye always open, she could see the aura of Rho that surrounded every living thing. Which allowed her to see many gestures—such as digging a fish bone out of one’s mouth.
“You seem out of sorts,” Kailee commented as she picked at her dinner. “Will you think me nosy if I ask why?”
“You’re my wife,” he said. “You’re allowed to be nosy.” He put a teasing lilt into his voice, although in truth her perspicacity often unnerved him. She shouldn’t know him well enough yet to see that he was “out of sorts.” He pulled at the neckline of his doublet, which was soaked with sweat and clinging unpleasantly. He should have asked for a cold supper but had been too distracted to think of it.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Kailee said. “Are you planning to answer my question?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “Let’s just say my first council meeting as regent did not go especially smoothly.”
She grinned. “And you expected it to?”
“Well, no,” he admitted. “But it was far worse than I expected.”
He’d known from the moment he’d committed to returning to Aaltah that his would be a difficult road. In the wake of the sabotage of Aaltah’s Well and his half-brother’s apparent death, he’d been appointed regent to his nephew, Delnamal’s son, over the objections of nearly half the royal council. And if the infant king Tahrend had had any living male relative closer than a second cousin, Tynthanal would still be happily installed as Lord Chancellor of Women’s Well.
He sighed silently at the attempt at self-delusion. Part of the reason he’d accepted the regency was that he’d hoped distance would ease some of the pain of not having been able to marry Chanlix. Seeing her every day had been misery—for both of them—and he imagined the pain would only grow sharper when the babe was born.
“How so?” Kailee tilted her head curiously, and he realized his original plan to spare her his turmoil had been misguided. Their marriage might be a sham, but she was wise beyond her years, and if he could only stop mooning hopelessly over Chanlix, he suspected they could become true friends. Surely he could give her that much.
“Let’s just say that there is a palpable lack of enthusiasm about my regency. No one came right out and said it, but I was given the distinct impression that my continued service in that capacity is dependent on my ability to fix whatever is wrong with our Well.”
“So have you been down to the Well?”
“Yes. The grand magus took me down right after the meeting. He’s also offered to train me as a spell crafter in my ‘spare time.’ ” He laughed grimly. “I understand why everyone hopes I can help, but it would take years for me to fully master the art of spell crafting, and I very much doubt I will be allowed years before people demand results.”
No one knew exactly what had happened when King Delnamal took the Abbess of Khalpar to Aaltah’s Well, but whatever it was had cost them more than their lives. Large portions of the cavern in which the Well resided had collapsed, leaving a substantial pile of rubble that would be weeks in the clearing. But worse than that…
“The Well is clearly damaged,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’ve been to the Well many times in my life and know exactly how many elements should be spilling out of it. I’d estimate the flow is a little more than half what it used to be, and I have no idea why.”
“You don’t think the rubble explains it?”
He shook his head. “Certainly that’s what the council would like to think, but…I’m not so sure. I guess we won’t know until it’s all cleared, though the grand magus tells me there’s been no improvement that he can discern from what has already been cleared. I find that less than promising. If we can’t restore it to its previous state, then it won’t be long before we start running low on some of the rarer elements, and that may make it difficult for us to fulfill our trade agreements.”
Kailee chewed her lip anxiously. “I would like to see it myself,” she said, and though it was subtle, he saw how she tensed in anticipation of refusal.
It made him ashamed of his first impulse, which was not to refuse, but to try to talk her out of it. She’d made it clear that one of the reasons she’d come with him to Aaltah instead of staying in the comfort and security of Women’s Well was that she hoped to clear Mairahsol’s name. Everyone was sure the late Abbess of Khalpar was behind whatever evil had befallen the Well. Everyone except Kailee, that is.
“I’ll take you down after supper,” he promised, “though I’m not sure it will be very informative. At present, it’s just a pile of rocks with elements leaking through the cracks.”
Tynthanal had not mentioned the troublesome reality that, so far, no bodies had been recovered from that rubble. Witnesses had seen a veiled woman—whom everyone assumed was Mairahsol—descending the stairs to the Well, accompanied by Delnamal, his secretary, and an obviously ailing common woman. They were all presumed dead—but if four people had died in the chamber, then why had no bodies been found?
“I’m sure you’re right,” Kailee agreed. “I don’t expect I’ll find the answers to all my questions that easily. But I’d like to look all the same.”
She pushed back her plate. They had not done justice to the fine dinner the cook had provided, and Tynthanal made a mental note to stop by the kitchens and reassure the staff that they were not displeased with the meal.
“Are the kitchens by any chance along the route to the Well?” Kailee asked. “I know our cook back in Rhozinolm would have been beside herself to see so much of her meal come back uneaten.”
Tynthanal smiled and felt a little tug of friendly affection for his wife. He didn’t imagine they were going to grow to love each other as a married couple ought—not when his heart still belonged firmly to Chanlix—but he suspected in some ways they were kindred spirits.
“The kitchens are in the opposite direction, but I must admit to feeling restless after sitting in meetings all day long. I would appreciate the extra walk, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind one bit,” she replied.
* * *
—
For the first nineteen years of her life, Kailee Rah-Kailindar had barely set foot outside her father’s estate. She knew every twist and turn of the manor house, the location of every piece of furniture, the breadth of every doorway. She knew the trees and shrubs of the grounds, the walking paths and the copse of woods that led down to a tiny trickling stream. In that territory, she’d taken every opportunity to walk unaided—though servants and relatives alike insisted on guiding her whenever they saw her by herself.
Learning her way around the Aalwell palace was clearly going to be a much larger challenge, and she had no choice but to slip her hand through the elbow that Tynthanal offered. She was in no danger of walking into walls thanks to the element-filled luminants that were visible to her Mindsight, but things like steps and furniture and edges of rugs were another story.
“This palace was designed as a maze,” she mumbled under her breath, her hand squeezing Tynthanal’s elbow as she wrestled with dismay. She had not admitted it to herself, much less to her husband, but she was quietly terrified of the life she had committed herself to when she’d agreed to accompany him to Aalwell. No doubt her father—and likely also Queen Ellinsoltah—would have been insulted on her behalf if her husband had left her in Women’s Well, but as long as the separation had not included a formal divorce, the treaties that were signed as a result of their marriage would have remained in place. She could have accepted his offer to let
her stay—fully recognizing it as an offer rather than an insult of any kind—and that would have been the far easier path.
“I’m not sure it’s fair to say the palace was designed,” Tynthanal said with a thread of humor in his voice. “The oldest part of the palace—the part right above the Well chamber—is about the size of the royal palace in Women’s Well, and it is laid out in neat rectangles with straight, if narrow, hallways. Everything else was added afterward by different kings in different ages, wings built on wherever it seemed convenient at the time. I freely admit its similarity to a maze, but I swear it was not done intentionally. Mind the stairs coming up.”
He slowed his footsteps and allowed her to reach out with a probing foot to find the edge of the stairway.
“How many steps?” she inquired.
He cleared his throat. “Er, I don’t know. I never counted them. But it’s a fair number, and the stairway curves.”
She nodded. It seemed that there was room for them to walk side by side, but she suspected that might be awkward on a long stairway. The luminants on the walls gave her a general feel for the shape and curve of the stairs, but her Mindsight couldn’t show her the individual steps. “If you wouldn’t mind just walking ahead of me, that will be easiest.” The aura of Rho around him would serve as a moving beacon, showing her the way.
