36. Mums Think They Know Everything
36
Mums Think They Know Everything
Aliza
T he human world was poison to a body fuelled by magic, or maybe the poison was the pain of betrayal oozing through my veins with every beat of my broken heart. Either way, something was slowly killing me.
For maybe the first time in my life, I couldn’t eat. Mum brought food to my room religiously, and though I tried to nibble, most of it went away untouched. Maybe it was because I’d grown accustomed to my immortal body, or maybe it was because my magic had well and truly manifested, but there was no gentle decline into mild grogginess this time. The human world’s poison came swift and strong. After three days, I understood why Idris had chosen a similar timescale to insist we return to Neath. In fact, I was surprised he’d made it that far. Even the coffees I sipped weren’t enough to get me out of bed beyond the fifth day. Now, a week after my accidental teleportation, I could barely lift my eyelids.
That first night, when I’d inadvertently materialised in the only real home I’d ever known, the only place I felt safe and loved, I’d dropped to a heap on my bed and sobbed. Mum and Dad had heard me and come tearing in. God knew what they’d thought when they saw their daughter caked head to toe in ash and blood, wearing what looked to all the world like a ruined wedding gown, but they’d barely missed a beat. Mum had gathered me into her arms like I was a little girl, rocking me and rubbing my back. Dad had stayed only long enough to be sure the blood wasn’t my own before rushing to put the kettle on and head to the late-night supermarket for all my favourite treats. I’d cried until I had no tears left to give, and then Mum had helped me out of my dress and run me a shower before tucking me into bed.
Sleep had evaded me that night. My head had been too full of Idris and the memories he’d tainted. It was sunrise when I’d finally dozed off, dreaming of ice rinks and wings.
I missed him.
I didn’t want to, but I did. I missed him like he was a piece of me that had been carved out, leaving a bleeding chasm in my chest. The pain of it left me breathless, or maybe that was the smoke inhalation. It was impossible to tell where one hurt ended and another began.
Anger would have been better, but I couldn’t even summon that. I was pathetic, and well aware of the fact, but I couldn’t seem to do anything to shake my misery. Going downstairs would have meant seeing the couch where Idris and I had snuggled, watching a movie. It would have meant remembering his disgust upon tasting coffee for the first time, and the way he’d wolfed down fajitas the way a python ate a rabbit. It would have meant remembering that all of it had been a lie. That he’d had his fun and washed his hands of me.
For those reasons, I stayed in my room where I only had one memory to contend with, but soon enough, the sickness kept me there.
It was much worse than the slightly hungover feeling I’d had when I’d visited the human world for the first time since turning fae. My mirror told me I had shadows under my eyes much worse than those Idris had had during his short stay. It told me my skin was dull and grey, my lips chapped, my eyes deadened. Every day, I spent longer sleeping, drifting between dreams and nightmares, all of them starring Idris and flames. Every day, the worry in Mum’s eyes grew more pronounced.
“Aliza.”
The bed creaked as the mattress dipped, stirring me from a dream set far away. Mum ran a hand over my limp hair.
“I made tea.”
I muttered my thanks, closing my eyes again.
“Oh no you don’t, missy. You’re going to drink this one.”
Perfect. Just what I needed. Missy always meant trouble. I shuffled higher up my pillows, slumping against the headboard. Mum pressed the mug into my hands. A little slopped onto the duvet, but I couldn’t find the strength to care.
“I know you don’t want to talk, and that’s fine,” Mum began, with a tone that implied we’d be talking whether I liked it or not, “but I’m worried about you, Aliza. You’re not right.”
No kidding. I’d been wrong about everything.
“You know your dad and I will always welcome you home, but you need to leave.”
I blinked my dry, gritty eyes and forced myself to sip my tea to avoid answering.
Mum sighed. “You’re not well. This is what you meant last time you were home, isn’t it? You can’t stay because the air makes you sick.”
“There’s no magic here,” I croaked.
“Exactly.” Mum waved a hand at the offending air. “You need magic to live now, and as much as I wish you could stay forever, I can’t sit back and watch you fade away. You need to go back. Soon. Whatever’s happened, surely it’s not worth killing yourself for?”
I wasn’t trying to kill myself, it just so happened that this was the only place I had left in the world. “This is my home.”
Mum squeezed my knee through the blankets. “And it always will be. Always , do you hear? But everyone flies the nest eventually. Some people move away, live abroad. It’s not that different really, is it?”
My laugh shrivelled to a breathy smile by the time it reached my lips. “Suppose not.”
“It’s certainly closer than Australia, and you know Lyn’s daughter flew all the way out there. She only comes back at Christmas.”
“I never wanted to go to Australia, Mum.” I’d just wanted to look after my parents, as they’d done for me. Now I’d never get the chance.
Mum smiled. “Oh, love. You’re a clever, hard-working, determined young woman, and I am so proud of you. Women like you aren’t meant for stuffy little lives. You need to be brave and take risks.” She heaved a sigh. “When you disappeared, my world fell apart. I had hope, but most of the time I was just broken. I didn’t want it to be true, but I really thought you were dead. I could see no other reason why you’d disappear like that.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying. What I meant was… I would have given anything, anything to know you were alive and safe, even if it meant never seeing you again. I’d have given my own life in a heartbeat. When you turned up on the doorstep that night, all my prayers were answered. It doesn’t matter if you go and live on the moon, Aliza. As long as you’re alive. Please go back, love. Get yourself well. ”
What was the point of being well if I had nothing and no one to live for? No family? No friends? No future? I’d rather live my days, however short, here, where I had everything I ever wanted. But Mum was worried, and I hated that. I sipped my tea, licking my parched lips.
“Just a few more days, Mum. I promise.”
A few more days was all it would take. It was already too late. I could barely find the energy to lift my mug to my lips, never mind make it to the Fairy Glen and through the Blood Gate. I couldn’t have teleported, even if I knew how. Coming home had been an accident, but not a mistake. At least I was surrounded by people whose love didn’t come with a ‘but’.