Her home sat on the edge of the most eastern town, right up against the Mistwood Mountains. As bustling village life gave way to cold, rocky farmland, a distant cottage came into view.
“You ready for this?” Everett asked.
I swallowed, then gave a tight nod. “Just keep those illusions going. We can’t let anyone know I’m here.”
Whitewashed brick and a sagging roof greeted us. Scents of dried thyme and rosemary drifted on the icy air, their bundles hangingfrom the windowsill. The sight stirred something in my chest. She used to do that at our cottage, too. Echoes of a voice humming lullabies while herbs roasted on fresh meat flooded my senses.
I ventured closer, taking in the modest-sized home and small vegetable garden in a patch out front. Not much could grow in Tenebra’s climate, but she’d always had a green thumb. I could see a fire crackling in the fireplace through the window, along with a single rickety chair at a wooden table.
I took a deep breath, then slowly released it as I mounted the step leading to the door. My knuckles hovered, shaking, before I finally knocked.
Silence permeated the air. Beside me, Everett twisted to look around the wide farmland, no doubt searching for signs of Scarven’s men. If I listened close enough, my Shifter hearing could pick up on several heartbeats nearby—maybe a quarter mile from the property.
They were always watching. But Everett gave me a confident nod. His illusions would keep our interaction hidden, for now.
Quiet footsteps padded across the floor, and then the door creaked open. Just a crack, enough for a single navy eye to poke through.
That eye widened like it had seen a ghost. “Nox?”
The sound of her voice undid me. I dropped my head, trying to breathe through the wave of emotions, but it was useless. The dam broke.
“Hi, Mama,” I rasped.
The door opened the rest of the way. Her arms closed around me, and I folded into them, sinking to my knees the way I had as a child, burying my face against her. She smelled of smoke and rosemary and baked bread.
Home.
“I thought—” Her voice cracked, words muffled against my hair. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
When I finally pulled back to gaze up at her, her hands cuppedmy face and traced the stubble of my jaw. “You grew a beard,” she whispered, half laugh, half sob.
She stood there, five years older than my memories, but unmistakably her. Blonde hair streaked with gray, worn lines around her mouth, navy eyes that resembled my own.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted. “I should’ve come sooner. I should’ve found a way?—”
“Hush.” She pressed a finger to my lips and shook her head. “You’re here now. That’s enough.”
Everett lingered by the door, his head bowed to give us privacy. A surge of gratitude shot through me. We wouldn’t be able to do this without him.
Mother’s hand slipped down to grip mine, pulling me to my feet. “What of your sister?”
My chest squeezed. “Scarven still has her. I—I haven’t seen her since that day.”
The last time I saw either of them was the night Mother snapped and tried to break Vera out of her cells. My mother was a raven Shifter, a small, cunning little thing, and she devised a plan to sneak into Scarven’s underground tunnel system and fly through the bars of my sister’s cage. But she hadn’t been prepared for the wards. They alerted Scarven of her presence, and he sent guards to capture her. They were able to subdue her, but not before she pecked out several of their eyes.
It had taken everything in my power to convince Scarven not to execute her on the spot. Instead, he banished her.
The light in my mother’s eyes dimmed, but her grip on me tightened. “Not a minute goes by that I don’t think of you two. Are you safe? Are you well?”
“I’m…” I didn’t know how to answer that. Were any of us safe? Were any of uswell?
“I’m fighting, Mama.”
A sad smile nudged at her lips. “Of course you are, my son. I never doubted it for a second.”
It was then that she seemed to notice Everett at the door. “Thisis Everett,” I gestured to him, “an Illusionist and close friend. You can trust him. Everett, this is my mother, Freya Duma.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Everett.” She gave him a warm smile and ushered him farther inside. “Come, come. Let me make some tea. I want to hear everything I’ve missed.”
