Chapter 24
Chapter
Twenty-Four
My mother stood at the edge of Caelan’s property, a ball of light floating in her hand. She wore a gown of pale gossamer silk, her dark hair streaming away from her face.
“I told you to stay inside,” Caelan snarled.
“Do I need to remind you how bossy you are?” I murmured as I stepped up to stand by his side.
“Evangeline,” my mother said. “Still lying down with the dogs, I see.”
Oh. So this was how my evening was going to go. Awesome. “And you’re still a massive bitch, I see.”
Caelan’s lips twitched.
Mom’s nostrils flared. “Congratulations, Caelan. You’ve finally landed a worthy mongrel.”
“Ooh. Ouch, Mom.” I clasped my hand to my chest like she’d shot me.
“I’d argue,” Caelan interjected coolly, “that no one has successfully landed Evie yet.”
“It’s true. I play hard to get.”
“So hard it’s like trying to drill through an adamantine wall.”
“Funny boy,” I murmured to Caelan.
We both smiled at my mother who stared at us like we were a strange-looking bug.
“What do you want?” Caelan asked when Mom stayed silent.
“I need access to the tree.”
A fine tension racked the Lord’s frame. I stepped closer and looped our arms together. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
I hadn’t seen Mom since I’d traveled to her lands, and we’d left things weird between us. So weird I’d been thinking about it almost every day. For once she’d seemed almost human—or at least like a woman who’d made terrible parenting choices and regretted them.
Glad to know I was wrong. Cliona seemed just as frosty and impenetrable as she always was.
“You are on the edge of my property trying to break my wards,” Caelan finally said. “Why should I grant you access when you haven’t stepped foot on my land and have already proven yourself a terrible guest?”
Mom’s gaze turned cold. “The tree is fae property. You are not authorized to keep us from it.”
I shook my head. “I know you can access your lands without the tree. Why are you being weird about it now?”
“Who said I was going to my lands?” Mom responded.
“The tree allows fae to travel to multiple lands. It is the only way we can access some of those places.” She returned her attention to Caelan.
“I have already given you the courtesy of not tearing down your wards. If you do not open access, you will feel the might of the fae.”
“Big words,” Caelan mused. “Would you risk starting a war with our kind? You might have magic, but we have teeth and claws and vast numbers.”
My fingers tightened around Caelan’s arm. We could not get involved in a war, especially not since this situation was my fault. I wouldn’t bring that down on the shifters.
Mom’s eyes flicked to me. “You still carry remnants of the seed’s power.”
Was she just going to ignore Caelan’s tense threat? “Maybe it will wear off now that I don’t have the seed anymore.”
Mom’s faint smile said fat chance.
“You could probably still act as an anchor.” Mom’s eyes narrowed as she focused on my healed abdomen. Something flickered over her face before she schooled herself into stillness once more. “If you don’t wish me to enter your property, allow my daughter to come to me. She can help me cross.”
Caelan liked that idea even less than letting my mother onto Keep property.
“I’ll go to her,” I whispered.
“But Lord,” my mother said, “I suggest you figure out a way to allow fae to cross here. For most, Evie won’t be an option.”
Say one thing about Cliona, she’d never sold me out when it really mattered. Try to kill me? Yep. Although she denies it. But she’d never sold my secrets to the highest bidder.
“Noted,” Caelan said, a snarl in his words.
I stepped away. “Once I help Mom, I’m heading home.”
His jaw tightened. “I’ll come with you.”
Mom bristled. “Evangeline is my daughter. She is perfectly safe with me.”
Caelan laughed. “Just like she was a few months ago when you tried to kill her?”
“How little you know, wolf,” she snapped. “Come.” Mom crooked her hand. “It will only take a moment. I will escort you home beforehand and you can send me on from your property.”
Caelan opened his mouth to argue, but I shook my head once. “I’ll let you know when I’m home.”
“I don’t like this,” he said, the words brimming with anger.
“She’s not lying. Mom had multiple opportunities to take me out.”
“And she tried last time.”
“Did I, Lord? Or did you see what you wanted?”
“I can’t believe she might be my mother-in-law,” he muttered, making me laugh.
“And I can’t believe my daughter would settle for someone who’d leave fur all over the furniture,” Mom retorted.
“Please stop,” I said to them both. Reaching up, I kissed him on the jaw and headed toward Cliona, lifting my hand in a wave right before I passed through the wards.
Mom stared at Caelan for a long moment before she turned and took me by the elbow.
One second of dizzying disorientation, and I was back at my property, just on the edge, inches from the wards.
“One day,” Mom said, “you will realize I’ve always had your best interests at heart.”
“Mmm. I’m not dropping the wards for you.”
Mom snorted. “Honestly, Evangeline. This is ridiculous.”
I never met someone who could play the victim as well as my mother could. “You keep ignoring whenever someone brings up the fact that you betrayed me just a few months ago.”
“Because it wasn’t like that.”
“Even if it wasn’t, you haven’t explained anything.”
Mom’s eyes tightened. “You wouldn’t believe me anyway.”
I studied her, the pale, proud, staggering beauty who shared genetic material with me. “You’re probably right.” Shaking my head, I brushed my annoyance away. “Tell me why you think I can act as a gate.”
“You won’t even offer me a cup of tea?”
I crossed my arms over my chest and stared, suspicion bubbling in my gut. Mom was trying too hard to get past my wards. She might be able to rip Caelan’s apart, but she couldn’t tear mine down. “You can have one when you get to where you’re going.”
Mom clicked her tongue. “Fine. Magic doesn’t leave our bodies when we’re exposed to something as powerful as the World Tree Seed.
Not exactly. What you fail to understand is most fae magic holds at least a small amount of sentience.
All our magic is based on the world’s power in some way, shape, or form.
” Something like sympathy flashed over her face.
“The seed left you with a…gift, if you choose to look at it that way.”
Horror roiled in my gut. Beware the fae who leaves a gift behind. “What kind of gift?”
Mom tilted her head and watched me. “I recognize enough to know you can act as a gate.”
“Will everyone else?”
She shook her head. “I’m your mother. We’re bonded in a different way than every other. Other fae will sense something not quite right, but they shouldn’t piece it together unless you tell them.”
“Or you do.”
“When have I ever spilled your secrets?” she asked, a flicker of hurt in her eyes, there and gone.
“There’s a first time for everything.” When Mom stayed silent, I waved my hand. “Anything else I should be aware of?”
“You’re the only one who knows your magic inside and out. You’ll know when you sense something different.”
“And there’s no way to get rid of it?”
Mom’s amused chuckle sent a chill down my spine. “Have you ever heard of a fae gift that disappeared voluntarily?”
That’s what I was afraid of. “Tell me how to send you on.”
“Quite simple.” She held out her hand. “Touch me, think of the tree, and open yourself to the magic. You don’t need to know where the other person is going. You only need to act as the conduit.”
A thought occurred to me as I took her hand. “Can I go wherever I want?”
Mom’s grip tightened. “Yes, but I urge you to think long and hard before ever venturing into any of the other worlds unless you have to. Far more dangerous things prowl outside of the realms of your world, Evie.”
That might be the first true warning she’d ever given me. “Noted.”
“Ready?” Her grip was cool and tight. Magic pressed against me, the feel of it familiar and as staggering as it ever was.
I glanced up at her. “Mom?”
“Yes?”
I chewed on my lip for a moment. “You should come to lunch with me next week.”
Mom’s lips parted in surprise. “Err. Yes. I—I will. If you’re sure.”
I wasn’t sure of anything these days. “I am,” I lied. “Meet me in town at Marnie’s restaurant. How about Wednesday at one?”
Mom nodded. “I will be there.”
Our identical gazes met. “Good,” I said and spiraled down into my magic.
Like she said, it was easy enough to find now that my power had refilled.
The seed’s magic had mixed within my own power easily…
too easily. I thought of the world tree, standing at the edge of Caelan’s property, the massive low-hanging branches and the strange ethereal glow.
A slight tug and a pop, and Mom was gone, disappeared into thin air.
I blinked in surprise. “Cool trick,” I murmured to myself as I wondered how it might benefit me in the future.
A rustle in the brush had me stepping quickly through my wards.
Cernunnos stood there in stag form. One quick flash of light and my father appeared, dressed in his preferred casual wear—joggers and a t-shirt. “Evangeline.”
“Want some coffee?”
He inclined his head. “I would.”
“Come on in.”
As he passed through the wards, it occurred to me that maybe I shouldn’t blindly trust him. My mother didn’t have access, and she’d been in my life forever. I’d only known Cernunnos for a few months.
“You’re thinking so hard, I can almost see your thoughts,” he said as he held the screen door open for me.
When we were inside, I started up the coffee pot. “How do you trust anyone?” I asked.
My father blinked and settled into his favorite chair, my oversized reading lounger. Every time I sat in the thing, it felt like a warm hug.
“A loaded question,” he murmured. “What would you say if I told you I don’t?”
My hands stilled. “Not even me?”
“You are different,” he acceded.
“There’s no need for flattery. If you don’t trust me, it’s okay. We haven’t known each other that long.”
Cernunnos’ eyes swirled. He curled his massive bulk into the oversized chair and smiled. “I’ve known you since before you were in the womb, daughter. There is no other I would trust more.”
My breath caught. No one had ever said something so kind to me. Tears swam in my eyes and caught in my throat. I swallowed hard and still couldn’t say anything.
Cernunnos rose in a liquid movement and stood next to me in a heartbeat. He gathered me in his arms, holding me close. I dragged in a ragged breath, my face pressed to his chest.
It was the first time he’d openly embraced me. My hands gripped his shirt tightly.
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I shook my head. “That’s not it.”
“You are touch starved, Evangeline. Such is anathema to one born of the soil of the world.”
I thought about Caelan and almost laughed.
“Not in that way,” he said dryly, rightly sensing where my thoughts had gone. “People like us need the constant contact of our family, friends, and lovers. Casual brushes, touches, hugs, those are almost required for us to retain our sanity.”
I was able to drag in a normal breath and tilted my head up to study him. “What about you?”
“I am…different.”
“But not much different.”
“I am able to survive without such touches, though I do crave them.”
I hugged him tighter, and we stood like that for quite a while, our arms wrapped around each other. My father always smelled like ancient forests and magic, and this time, even aware of what he could do, I was no longer afraid.
When we let go, the coffee pot beeped. My father went to the cabinet and pulled two mugs down. “I will bring you another coffee contraption,” he said as he poured us both a cup.
“This one works fine.” Did he know something I didn’t?
“Your machine is plastic on the outside, but the inside has plastic components. The water temperature causes the plastic to weaken every time, sending thousands of tiny microplastics into your bloodstream.”
I gaped at my father. “How—” I started. “How do you know about microplastics? Is that a topic of conversation among the fae?”
“Anything that pollutes this world is a topic among us.”
“Interesting. You don’t need to bring me one. I can find one without plastics, though I didn’t think the fae needed to worry about those.”
“We should all worry because those tiny plastics are destroying the world. You will find it difficult to source such a machine without resorting to manual means.” He smiled when he saw my wince. “Allow me to provide this for you.”
“Soon?” I asked hopefully.
“Soon,” he agreed. “Now. Come sit with me and tell me how you’ve been since we extracted the seed.”
My father left a few hours later, and I felt more centered than I had in years, his words about being touch-starved resonating deep inside me. I wasn’t as touchy with my friends as they were with me. I wondered if they knew something I didn’t and were trying to help in their own quiet ways.
Sighing, I shook my head and went back inside, planning to ask them first thing in the morning.
Yet another lesson, I, Evie Quinn, had managed to learn the hard way. At least this one hadn’t tried to kill me.
Small favors.