Shadow Faerie

by Rachel Morgan

  “Yeah …” I say, though there’s definitely an edge of doubt to my voice. “Wait, but how did Ada know I was here yesterday? She arrived and basically said she came for me.”

  “She …” Mom screws her eyes shut, then breathes out sharply as she opens them. “She’s keeping certain things from me.”

  “Is that possible?”

  “Yes. If she chooses to deliberately not think of certain things, or cover them up by firmly thinking of other things, then it’s difficult for me to access her memories.”

  “Is she … gaining control?”

  “No, no. She’s just hiding a few things from me.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Nevertheless, my eyes scan Mom’s body for signs of twitching. That’s what she said to Zed, right? That she used to twitch when she was struggling to maintain control?

  “I’m fine, Em, I swear,” Mom says, noticing me watching her closely. “And I’ll figure out what Ada’s hiding. She won’t be able to keep things from me for long.”

  “Okay.” I sip my exotic drink and find my mind turning back to the changeling spell. I want to understand why Mom decided it was okay to steal someone’s life. She must have known Macy Clarke wouldn’t survive the spell. So it was more than stealing, actually. It was murder.

  I shove away the image of my mother as a murderer. I know that isn’t who she is. She was just confused and lost at the time. And maybe she didn’t know what would happen. Surely it isn’t possible for every faerie to know every spell that exists, so maybe Mom had never heard of a changeling spell. And maybe Zed left out the part about Macy ending up dead. That seems far more likely to me than Mom agreeing to murder.

  Movement catches my eye. I look to the side and see Mom holding her glass toward me. I raise mine and clink it against hers, smiling as I force all my doubts to the back of my mind.

  By the end of the second day, when Dash hasn’t returned yet, I suddenly remember that I told this world no member of the Guild would ever come here. So before I climb into bed, I drink a tiny bit of the Griffin Ability elixir and listen to my oddly distorted voice saying, “Dash Blackhallow is allowed to enter this world.”

  Then, since there seems to be a little bit of my Griffin power left over, I look down at my feet and tell them they’re wearing unicorn slippers. Fluffy white fabric wraps itself around my feet while filling with some kind of padding. Silver wings pop out the sides, a head bulges over my toes, a mane of fuzzy rainbow hair appears, and a gold horn materializes on top of each unicorn head. Peering down in delight at my latest creation, I clap my hands together and laugh. Then I imagine what Val would say if she saw me wearing unicorn slippers, of all things, and I laugh harder.

  I hurry down the passage to Mom’s room and offer to make a pair of unicorn slippers for her too with the last remaining shred of my power. Once her slippers are done, I climb onto her bed. We stretch out our legs so we can wiggle our feet back and forth in front of us as Mom shares stories from her past. I remember Zed mentioning that her life was horrible, but if that was true, she doesn’t speak about it. She tells me only the fun things about her childhood. Faerie school, and getting her first stylus, and the rules she loved to break. I’m happy to sit here and fall asleep to the sound of her voice.

  My eyes are half-closed when Mom quietly says, “I wasn’t sure if I should bring this up, but I meant it when I said I don’t want there to be any secrets between us.”

  I blink, open my eyes fully, and push myself up a little straighter. “Okay. What is it?”

  She looks down at her lap. “I know what happened outside Chelsea’s home. When Ada came for you. I know you gave me up.”

  My stomach plummets instantly, weighted down by guilt. “Mom, I’m so sorry. It wasn’t like that—”

  “I know, honey.”

  “She was going to kill my new friends. She was going to wipe out the whole of Stanmeade. And the last thing I wanted to do was tell her where you were.” I reach for her hand. “I swear, Mom, if my heart could literally have broken, it would have. But I couldn’t—”

  “I know, Em, I know.” She strokes my hair as if I were a small child. “You couldn’t let all those people die. You had to choose them over me.”

  “It wasn’t that I was choosing them—”

  “Sweetie, I know. I understand.” She kisses my forehead. “I forgive you.”

  It should be a relief to hear those words, but I feel even worse. She shouldn’t have to forgive me. I should never have done something to her that would require forgiveness.

  We say goodnight, and with a heavy heart, I return to my bedroom. I pull Bandit closer and snuggle him against my chest, trying to tell myself not to be silly. Mom forgave me, so I should be able to forgive myself too, right? It was an impossible situation. I had to choose to save a whole town of people over saving just one, right? Even if that one person was my own mother …

  I sit up and walk to the mirror over the dresser. I haven’t tried the spell to call anyone, but I know the words. I touch the mirror, thinking of Dash, then immediately withdraw my hand. I doubt he’d want to hear about my troubles. He’s probably busy saving someone else’s life right now. A damsel in distress. He wouldn’t appreciate the interruption.

  The only other person I want to talk to is Val, and that’s impossible right now. My best friend would have a heart attack if her mirror started talking to her, and I don’t know if the spell would even work on an ordinary mirror in the human world. Or if it would work in the shadow world, for that matter. But that doesn’t stop me from longing to tell her every single thing that’s happened since that horrible night at the party.

  I return to bed without attempting to call her. One day I’ll go back to Stanmeade and explain my disappearance as best I can, but now isn’t the time. I need to focus on the new life Mom and I are building and shove the past far behind us.

  Forty

  By the end of day three, our world is even fuller. I closed up the side of the castle, added some rose bushes and other flowers alongside the river, and spoke a golf cart into being. Mom thought the golf cart was a bit strange, especially in a world of magic, but I thought it would be fun to drive around our land. She reminded me that we have nowhere to plug it in, and I reminded her that we can make it move with magic. Then I used the last bit of my morning’s Griffin power to tell two ink-shades to take on the form of dragons as large as Imperia—just to see if they could.

  And they did. I bounced up and down with sheer excitement before climbing onto one of them. After I got past the odd sensation of sitting on a cloud of icy air, I flew around and around our little world, only landing when Mom told me to come down and learn how to transform some pillowcases into curtains for our bedrooms.

  I wish I could show Dash everything we’ve done, but he hasn’t returned. Totally understandable, I keep reminding myself. He probably has a ton of work to catch up on after being AWOL for days. Still … I kinda miss him.

  I walk into the castle’s enormous kitchen to help Mom with dinner. “Can I chop these veggies?” I ask, pointing to the pile on the counter beside the stove.

  “Yes. Thanks, sweetie. You remember the chopping spell?”

  “I think so.” I move a few potatoes, carrots, and something that looks like purple celery to another counter, marveling at the simple fact that I can stand in a kitchen with my own mother while we prepare a meal together. I push the veggies aside to make space for my chopping board—and that’s when I notice two perfect glass roses in a vase on the windowsill.

  My blood chills instantly. “Mom,” I say carefully. “What’s this?”

  “Hmm? Oh, I wanted to add some flowers to the kitchen, but I didn’t feel like walking out to the rose bushes by the river. Don’t you think the glass ones are pretty?”

  Swallowing, I turn slowly to face her. “Did Ada make them? Did you … give her some control so she could do these?”

  “What?” Mom’s eyes widen. “No, don’t be silly. I made those.”

  �
��But she’s the one with the ability to—”

  “Em, honey, she doesn’t have a monopoly on glass magic. She can do far more with it than any ordinary faerie, but the rest of us can still make use of simple spells involving glass. And you know I like glass trinkets as much as she does.”

  “Yes, but … okay.” These roses look far from simple to me, but I suppose that’s because I’m still new to most magic. “Sorry, I guess my first response is to freak out when I see something I don’t expect that’s made of glass.”

  “Understandable,” Mom says with a laugh as she turns back to the stove.

  “I guess we’ll need to go shopping for more food soon,” I say. “I thought we could create a veggie garden here, but then I remembered we don’t actually have a sun in this world, so that wouldn’t work. Oh, and while we’re on the topic of no sun, that isn’t exactly healthy, is it? We should probably go back into one of the other two worlds at some point just to get some sun.”

  “Good idea. And you’re right about the fresh food too. It won’t last much longer.”

  “Yeah.” I’m starting to think that living in this world isn’t a viable long-term option, but I decide not to voice that opinion just yet. Mom seemed really keen on the idea, so I’m happy to stay here for now. Maybe until everyone out in the magic realm forgets about me and I don’t have to worry about looking over my shoulder wherever I go.

  I get the chopping spell started, then wander into the pantry to check out the state of our supplies. “When do you think we should go?” I call to Mom. “To get more food, I mean. And should we go to the human world or the faerie world? Oh, and what about money?” I walk back into the kitchen. “Crap. That could be a problem.”

  Mom sets up a spoon to stir the pot by itself before facing me. “Em, I was thinking I should go without you. I know you want to see the fae world, but I don’t think that’s wise at the moment. It isn’t safe out there. People are still looking for you.”

  “I know, but it won’t be for long. And we can go to an area I’ve never been to before, so there’s no risk of anyone recognizing me.”

  “Em.” She gives me an indulgent smile. “You know that isn’t a good idea. At least not yet. The Guild has other ways of finding people. Rather wait a bit longer until they’ve begun to worry about other things.”

  “Um, okay.”

  “Hey, come here.” I cross the kitchen and she puts her arm around my shoulders. “You know I love you, right? You’re the most important thing in the world to me. In any world.”

  “Of course. I love you too. More than anything and anyone.” It’s still a little weird to say that to someone who doesn’t look like my mother anymore, but I still mean the words.

  “Good.” She rubs her hand up and down my arm. “Then you know I only want to keep you safe.”

  “Yes, of course. But … you know I’ve been looking out for myself for a long time, right? I think I’d probably be fine out there now that I’ve got a better grasp on my magic.”

  “I’m sure you could, hon, and I know you can take care of yourself. But I’ve missed out on so many years of taking care of you. Why don’t you let me do it for a little while? Let me make up for all the years I didn’t—”

  “Mom, you don’t have to make up for anything. Seriously.”

  “Em, please. Just let me do this.”

  After a moment, I give in with a smile. “Sure. Of course.” It seems silly to me, but if this will help her feel like my mom again, then cool. I can handle that for a while.

  The silence is awkward for a few minutes as we continue preparing dinner, but soon we begin talking about other things. I don’t mention the money problem again, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think about it. What will we do when we need to buy food? I don’t particularly want to create money from nothing with my Griffin Ability. It wouldn’t be stealing, but somehow the idea doesn’t feel right either.

  The dining room is empty except for the long table Roarke built in here, but Mom and I dragged a few chairs in yesterday from other rooms. I’ll get around to furnishing it properly at some point. For now, Mom and I sit next to each other in mismatching chairs, and Bandit sits on the other end of the table in monkey form with a collection of fruit in front of him.

  “Your Griffin Ability is already so impressive,” Mom says when we’re halfway through dinner, “but I wonder what more it could achieve. I think if you had more power—if your base magic levels were higher—you could probably do even greater things.”

  “Maybe.” I finish another mouthful of food, then add, “I thought if I could save up my Griffin Ability’s power instead of using it, then once it’s replenished a second time, I’ll hopefully have twice as much power.”

  “But that would take so long,” Mom says. “It would be a lot faster to draw magic directly from another source.”

  “Okay. Like what?”

  “You know, the way the witches draw power from other beings.” She pauses to sip her faerie wine. “I can see exactly how to do it from Ada’s memories. I’m sure that would power-up your Griffin Ability much faster.”

  I laugh at Mom’s crazy suggestion. “We can’t do that.”

  “Of course we can.” She returns her glass to the table. “We’ll find some people who don’t matter. Some humans.”

  I slowly lower my fork, realizing that she might not be joking. “All people matter, Mom. Including humans.”

  “Not the bad ones. There are humans who’ve done terrible things. We’ll look for those ones. Raid a police station or something.”

  I stare at her for several moments. She continues eating as if nothing is wrong. As if she hasn’t just suggested something horrendous. “You’re not serious, are you?”

  Confusion colors her expression. “Of course I am.”

  “We can’t do that, Mom. Seriously. It’s not happening.”

  It’s her turn to lower her cutlery. “I don’t understand what the problem is, Em.”

  “The problem is that we can’t kill people just to get power.”

  “Em, we’re talking about people who are going to die anyway. You know, people who’ve been sentenced to death. Their energy may as well be of some use to us before they die.”

  “I … I can’t …”

  “I’m sorry, Em, I didn’t realize you’d have such a problem with this.” She places her hand over mine, and her thumb rubs back and forth across my skin. “We can wait a bit longer until you’re okay with it.”

  I pull my hand away. “I’ll never be okay with it.”

  Her expression slowly becomes stern. “I don’t remember you talking back to me like this before.”

  “Probably because you never suggested we go out and kill people together.”

  “Em, I’m your mother. You need to trust that I know better than you about certain things.”

  “I don’t think you do, actually.”

  “Emerson!” Mom smacks her hand down on the table.

  Bandit shifts rapidly into a dragon and snarls at her, letting loose a small stream of flames.

  “Down!” Mom shouts, sweeping her arm through the air. A flash of sparks swipes him across the face and knocks him backwards. He tumbles off the table, shrinks into a cat as he hits the floor, and whimpers.

  “Bandit!” I jump up and rush to end of the table, dropping onto my knees beside him.

  “Em, I’m so sorry,” Mom says. Her chair scrapes the floor as she rises. “I’m still getting used to having magic again. I don’t know my own strength. I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

  Bandit crawls into my hands as a mouse, where he repeatedly licks his front paws and rubs them over his ears. “I think he’s okay,” I say quietly. I stand and place him inside my hoodie’s front pocket. Then I look at Mom.

  “I really am sorry, Em. Please come back to the table and finish dinner.”

  “Yeah,” I say quietly, still trying to make sense of the highly unpleasant turn our discussion has taken. “Okay.”

  I
sit and pick up my fork, and Mom says, “I’m sorry I lost my temper. I’m just trying to do what’s best for you, and I don’t know why you’re fighting me on this.”

  “Because you’re talking about mur—”

  “We’ve had horrible lives, both of us. You lived with that awful human sister of Macy Clarke’s. And I suffered with the changeling spell tormenting my mind for years. And then I almost ended up unconscious for the rest of my life because—” She cuts herself off, closing her eyes briefly and biting back the words I imagine she wants to say: Because I gave up her location to her dangerous other half.

  Sickening guilt twists inside me once again as I press my lips together and stare at my remaining dinner. My hand clenches around my fork.

  “My point is, Em, that this is our chance to make everything so much better. So you need to stop questioning me. I’m your mother, and I know what’s best for both of us. So we’re going to increase your power, okay? I’ll give you some time to get used to the idea and to understand that it’s a totally normal part of our way of life, but then we’re doing it. No more arguments, okay?”

  I force myself to look up at her and nod. I even manage a small smile and a resigned sigh. But inside, I can’t stop shaking.

  Forty-One

  I manage to pretend everything is fine until we’ve finished eating dinner. After cleaning up, I give Mom what I hope is a cheerful smile and tell her I’m going to relax in the pool in my bathroom for a while, now that I’ve learned a few spells for changing the scent and color of bubbles. But the moment I’m up the first flight of stairs, I run. My feet don’t stop pounding the floor until I reach my room. My hands shake as I pull a jacket on over my hoodie and snatch a candle and stylus from the drawer beside my bed. I double-check to make sure Bandit is still in my pocket.