Claire had donned the blindfold once again the next evening as the elf led her through the crowded streets. This time she was glad that she couldn’t see the stares that she was surely getting.
But the embarrassment was overshadowed by the pounding of her heart. The blend of nerves and excitement made her hands shake. Why was she so anxious to see her own mother? Was it because she had learned of Marion’s past? Or the simple fact that she knew her mother and how tough she could be with her own daughter?
The commotion of the town was suddenly muted as the door closed behind her. Farron’s warm buzzing presence was at her back and he untied the piece of cloth. Claire blinked a couple times to get used to the dim surroundings. They stood in a hallway, the walls painted deep red with dark wooden floors and accents, all richly decorated with paintings and rugs and knick-knacks. Simple oil lamp sconces lined the wall, illuminating islands of light in the darkness.
She glanced at Farron, but his face remained blank. Per her wishes, he refused to give her any sort of detail of where they were. It still drove her mad.
Farron held up an arm to motion for her to go forward. She took a deep breath and walked down the hall, following it into the depths of the building, all the way to the back where a door stood open, leading into a private garden surrounded by high walls. A stone path led through trimmed hedges, around a pond filled with orange fish, little lanterns lighting the way. It was beautiful, calm, an oasis.
And then Claire saw her.
Sitting on a bench at the rear of the garden was Marion.
“Mother,” she whispered before rushing to her.
Her mother barely had time to stand before Claire wrapped her arms around her.
“Claire,” Marion said softly. She hugged Claire tight. After several moments she pulled back to look her daughter over. “You look well. Are you well?”
Farron’s words played through her mind, but she nodded. She still didn’t want to tell her mother. Not now, not ever if she could help it. Marion had enough to worry about.
Claire looked her mother over. She wore a plain off-white dress, her wild hair tamed into a messy updo. The bags that had been there the last time she’d seen Marion had lessened, although the gray strands peppered into her red waves seemed to have multiplied. Still, they didn’t detract from her beauty. “How about you?” she asked. “Are you well?”
“I’m well when you’re well.” She brushed a strand of hair from Claire’s face, her fingers lingering. Her eyes held a smile that Claire hadn’t seen in far too long. “Though, I am a bit tired of hiding out here,” she said, her eyes filling with the fire Claire had admired all her life. “He told me it was for my safety.” She nodded her head behind Claire.
Claire followed her gaze to the elf standing at the edge of the pond several paces away. His back was to them, giving them some privacy.
“It is,” Claire said. “It’s a long story.”
“Well then,” Marion said, “you better get started.”
The look on her mother’s face told her that she was going to get a story out of her daughter no matter what. So, Claire relented and sat on the bench next to her mother and let it all out, starting with that fateful night in Stockton to the elves and the journey, the places she’d seen, the General, Derenan, meeting the king—more than one actually—all the way to when she’d met her in Linesbrough. She was careful with the details so she didn’t give anything away that she didn’t want to. As for her current mission, well, she was vague there, as well. What would Marion think about her daughter returning magic to the world? Would she think of her as a traitor? She’d been in the Syndicate, after all. It had been her duty to prevent her from doing just what Claire had set out to do.
Marion was quiet for a long stretch when Claire finished, her face almost as unreadable as the elf’s. “Well…” she said, letting out a breath. “You’ve always dreamed of an adventure.”
Claire smiled, grateful for the levity. Telling her story had drudged up some memories that she liked to keep locked up deep in the back of her mind.
“Oh, Claire.” Marion took Claire’s hands into hers, her eyes traveling up her hand, hesitating at the long scar the General had carved into her skin, the silver chains and bands. “All that you’ve been through. It was the last thing that I wanted for you. I hope you know that.”
Claire nodded.
“I only sent you away from me that night to protect you.”
“I know,” Claire said softly, “it’s all right. I’m fine, really.” She squeezed her mother’s hands.
“But you’re not. You’ve been caught up in the web that I was supposed to keep you out of,” she said, sadness in her eyes. “I’ve not only failed as an agent of the Syndicate, but also as a mother.”
“No,” Claire said. “Far from it.”
A smile touched the corner of her mother’s lips.
“I’ve had a taste of the Syndicate’s hospitality. Now I know why you sent me away into a dark forest, it’s much more preferable.”
“They’ve always been a dour lot.” Marion frowned.
Claire could think of much stronger words to describe them.
“So, Deliah’s…” Marion muttered.
Claire nodded. “The madman, the one I’m trying to protect you from, he destroyed the whole fort. There was nothing I could do.” A lump formed in her throat, tears stinging her eyes. “Did you know her well?”
“I did,” Marion said, her eyes hazed over with the past. “Years ago. She used to be a good woman before the Syndicate got their fangs deeper into her. And the boy? The others?”
“They’re safe,” Claire said. “Lianna and Razi are looking after them in Derenan.”
Marion gave a short snort of laughter. “Now, there’s a woman. That Lianna gave even me a good run for it.”
Claire smiled. Somehow she knew Marion and Lianna would hit it off. “I think she liked you as well.”
“Although it gave me pleasure to raid those Syndicate hideouts, I have to know, Claire, that it was all for good. I did it to help you, to set them free from their prison, not deliver them to a new one.”
Her sentiments exactly. But it was unfortunately what she had ended up doing. But hopefully for not much longer. “It is,” she said, trying to reassure her mother. “It will be.”
“And this mission that you’re on now,” she said, giving Claire a sharp, studious look. “I feel like you’re hiding things from me.”
Claire swallowed, the lump returning.
“Out with it.”
“I don’t want you to be disappointed in me,” she said, her voice falling along with her gaze, “to hate me.”
“I could never do that, Claire.” She touched Claire’s chin and tilted her face back up to face hers.
“Well,” Claire said, hesitantly, “I’m going to try to restore the magic back to the land.” Her pulse picked up as the words left her mouth. She watched her mother carefully. Waited for the disappointment, the anger, but it didn’t come.
Marion opened her mouth, then closed it. Claire had never seen her mother speechless before. She had always had something to say, regardless of the situation.
“Is that possible?” she finally said.
“I don’t know, not for sure. But I have to try.”
“But why you?” She ran her fingers down Claire’s cheek. “My innocent Claire taking on such a mission.”
Claire hesitated. She could see Farron shift from the corner of her eye. “Why not me?”
“It’s just such a big task…”
“I can do it, Mother. You did raise me, after all.”
“Well, I’m glad to see your confidence has finally grown. After all that you’ve been through, how could it not?” She smiled, a proud look on her face. “Although, I suspect he might have something to do with it as well.” She nodded toward Farron. “You say he’s your lover? He’s a long way off from the sweet little farm boy you last brought home.” A sly grin tilted her lips.
Claire could feel the heat creep up her cheeks.
“Does he treat you right?” Marion continued, her face growing serious. “I’ve heard stories of his past. He’s quite notorious, I believe.”
“He does,” she said, “A little too well, at times. I wouldn’t be where I am now without him.”
“Can you trust him?”
“More than myself.”
Her mother narrowed her eyes, studying her, then glanced at Farron. Her trust was hard won, and rightfully so.
Claire leaned close and lowered her voice, but she was almost certain he would hear her anyway. “Believe me,” she said, “it surprises me still.”
Marion laughed, a rich hearty sound. “Well, I suppose love can be found in the strangest of places, in the people you least expect. Or elf.” She gave Claire a considering look. “Perhaps I need an elf lover myself. Human men are a hopeless cause.”
Claire laughed. She knew that all too well after years of experience. She was young enough to still dream of knights in shining armor and hadn’t grown as jaded as her mother. Yet.
“Trust me,” Claire whispered, “it’s not all it’s made out to be.”
Farron shifted again but remained quiet. Served him right for listening in.
“Well, I will trust your judgment,” Marion said. “The last one wasn’t bad either, the farm boy I mean.” A spark flashed in her eyes. “I have half a mind to hunt down that General and carve him up with an ax.”
“I’ll get you the ax,” Claire said, not sure whether or not Marion would actually do it, or if she cared if her mother really did.
Marion’s face softened. “I really wanted you to marry that farm boy,” she said. “I’m sorry that you never got to. For what I had to do. For all the things that I couldn’t give you.”
A tear slid down Claire’s cheek. “You’ve done more for me than anyone,” Claire said. “You gave me a normal life, love, a home. You only did what you had to do to keep me safe, to keep me out of the Syndicate’s grasp for as long as possible. And I may not have a farm boy, but I do have a rather intimidating elf.”
Marion’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Selene would have been proud of you,” she said, “just as I am. I am sad that she is no longer with us. I wish you could have known her as I did.”
“Me too.” Claire’s meeting with her birth mother had been all too brief.
“She was a good, gentle woman,” Marion said. “She loved you as much as I.”
“I saw the letters you wrote,” Claire said. “I can’t believe you did that.”
“Well,” Marion said, looking up to prevent tears from falling, “it was the least I could do.”
Claire hugged Marion, burying her face in her shoulder.
Marion stroked her hair. “It’s all right,” she whispered. She held Claire until they were both able to hold back their tears successfully.
Claire drew back to look at Marion. “I know you don’t like being holed up here, but I have to know that you’ll be safe. I don’t think I could bear anything happening to you.”
Marion raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that my job? I used to be a Syndicate agent, remember? They didn’t let just anyone in. I can handle myself, young lady.”
Claire had no doubt that she could. But still…
“I hate just sitting here not knowing what’s going on,” her mother said, “while you’re out there risking yourself. I don’t know how I feel about your mission, but if you think it’s a good idea, then I’ll do what I can to help.”
Claire shook her head. “I can’t have you come with me,” she said. “As much as I want to, I can’t. I can’t even know where you are. Bahkar, that madman, he can get into my mind, see where you are. I can’t know.”
“I see,” Marion said, sighing. “What about your friend over there?”
“He’s tougher than he looks.” Yet, she still worried about him.
“The rumors about him are true then?” Marion asked, her interest piqued.
“Mostly,” she shrugged, “but he’s not as scary as he seems. Not all of the time, at least.” She gave her mother a sly look. “Like someone else I know.”
Marion tickled Claire on her sides where she’d always been sensitive, making her jump and yelp, giggling like a little girl. Then she drew Claire into her arms once again, holding her tight. “When will I see you again my dear, sweet, child?”
Claire hesitated. “Soon.” She hoped.
“Be careful, Claire. I’ll find a way to help you, somehow,” she whispered.
“I just want you to be safe,” she said.
“That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, Claire.” She pulled back and looked down at Claire. “And ever will. Be careful. I know you’ve grown strong, but I still worry. And know that no matter what, I will always love you.”
“Me, too, Mother,” Claire said, hugging her once again, trying to soak in all she could in case it was the last time she ever saw her, hoping dearly that it wasn’t.