It was unbelievable. If Encantador had still been alive he could have reasoned with their son, explained in a way that Orhan would understand that El Aran’s actions were all done in the defense of her family. The seer watched her son’s mouth work and she wondered if he searched for words or struggled to contain his emotions. Tension was high in the group and El Aran’s nerves reacted to it as she waited for Orhan to justify his betrayal.

For that was how it appeared to her: her son had turned away from her and now stood beside the enemy. No, in front of the enemy. As if he was protecting it.

El Aran inhaled deeply and made an effort to relax the muscles in her face and ears as Orhan responded, his words hard and fast and full of rage. A sudden stillness grew within her, something she imagined as a deep and dark pool of nothingness, and she clung to that even as she set her son away from her heart. Perhaps it is a blessing that he does not know how evil the world truly is, El Aran thought, and shook her head slowly. When she spoke, it was as if she was explaining a simple concept to a child.

"They are monsters. That mare— you think her sweet. Harmless. I can understand your reluctance to accept what I have taught you as truth. Had you been raised in my homeland and exposed to the violence and hatred bred there, you would not try to protect that pislik behind you. You would destroy it before it destroyed you." Her gaze shifted past Orhan, past the Arabian behind him and to the distant sands she had called home for so many years. "If you choose to keep company with a Purebred, despite the dangers it presents to the blood of your blood, your home and your herd, then I wish to have nothing more to do with you."

The black mare turned her attention to the Arabian, and all of the neutrality fled her voice as she addressed the Purebred in a low hiss. "I have no interest in whatever poison you have spilled in my son’s ears. Leave this territory by sundown, or I will find you and soak these sands with your lifeblood." Her dark eyes flicked to Orhan in warning. "Those who walk with the enemy are the opposite of allies."

There was nothing left for her to say, no other words El Aran could conjure that she thought might help her son to see reason. The seer shuddered her coat and turned away from the group. Her legs did not shake and the height of her head did not falter as she strode inland, but the whispered words that fell from her mouth and gave rhythm to her solitary march were as fragile as cobwebs caught in a gale. “Aşk, biz layık değiliz. Kurtarmak ona.”