Chapter 13
That night, I dreamed of islands floating in a purple sky, and a new realm taking shape beneath my hands.
In the dream, my mother breathed easily, my father crafted beautiful things from crystal, and Cypher stood beside me, the crown on his head catching the light of a sun that had never existed before.
When I woke, the dream lingered, its possibility hovering just beyond my reach.
The meeting with Gideon had gone too smoothly.
That thought kept nagging at me as I prepared to take Vic to see my mother the next morning.
Gideon wasn't the type to simply accept what he was given without verification.
He would have people examining the codex already, trying to understand its secrets.
How long before he realized it wouldn't work for him? How long before his suspicion turned to anger?
I pushed those concerns aside as Vic, Jask, Kora and I made our way through the Hollow Market district toward my family's shop. The streets were busy with morning trade, merchants calling out their wares as we navigated the crowded thoroughfare.
"Your mother doesn't know we're coming?" Jask asked, his eyes scanning the crowd with habitual wariness, noting where every single Assembly guard patrolled.
"I sent a courier last night," I replied. "But I didn't mention Vic's interest in her condition. Just that I was bringing friends."
When we arrived at the shop, the closed sign was still hanging in the window, but the door was unlocked. I led them inside, the familiar scent of metal and polish wrapping around me like a hug from my father.
"Mom?" I called out.
We found her in the sitting room, wrapped in her favorite shawl despite the warmth of the day. Her face brightened when she saw me, though the shadows under her eyes spoke of another difficult night.
"Junie," she said, her voice thin but warm.
I made the introductions, watching as she lit up, watching how closely Kora and Jask stood to one another. She met my eyes and winked, and took all of my control not to giggle like a little girl.
Kora excused herself to make us all some tea while we set up in the front parlor.
"This is your father's workshop?" Jask asked, gesturing toward the door at the back of the room.
"Yes," my mother answered. "Feel free to look around. Marv would be pleased to know someone appreciates his space."
While Jask wandered into the workshop, I knelt beside my mother's chair. "How are you feeling today? Honestly."
She sighed, the sound rattling in her chest. "About the same. The new tonic helps, but..." She trailed off, her gaze sliding to Vic, who stood respectfully a few paces away.
"Mom, Vic is a healer. A good one. He's traveled to more realms than most people even know exist."
Vic stepped forward. "I'd like to examine you, if that's all right. I might have some insights your previous healers lacked."
I saw the flicker of hope in her eyes before she suppressed it. "You're very kind, but I've seen many healers."
"I understand," Vic said gently. "But sometimes a fresh perspective can make all the difference. At the very least, I might be able to suggest adjustments to your current treatment."
After a moment's hesitation, she nodded. "Alright."
Vic opened his satchel and began his examination with meticulous care. He listened to her breathing, checked her pulse, examined her eyes and throat. He asked questions about when symptoms were worst, what triggers might exacerbate the condition, how the illness had progressed over time.
I watched his face carefully, looking for any reaction that might betray his thoughts, but his expression remained professionally neutral. The only sign of his concentration was a slight furrow between his brows.
"Have you ever coughed up any unusual substances?" he asked.
My mother glanced at me before responding. "A black fluid. Thick, like ink or oil."
"May I see some, if you have any samples?"
She hesitated, then nodded at me. "In my bedroom, the small cabinet by the window. There's a jar I keep for one of my local healers to examine my progress…or lack there of I suppose."
I retrieved it, a small glass container holding what looked like dark sludge. Vic took it carefully, holding it up to the light.
"Fascinating," he murmured, almost to himself.
From the workshop, I heard the sound of Jask moving things around, examining my father's tools and projects. The kettle whistled in the kitchen, and soon Kora appeared with a tray of steaming cups.
"Tea's ready," she announced, setting the tray on the small table. "I found some honey in the pantry, I hope everyone likes windroot"
"Perfect," my mother said. "Thank you, love."
Vic continued his examination while we sipped our tea. Finally, he sat back and pulled out a journal, beginning to write. The scratching of his quill was the only sound for several minutes.
"What are you thinking?" I asked, unable to contain my curiosity any longer.
He looked up, his expression thoughtful. "I've seen something similar to this before, but in a different context. The symptoms resemble a condition I encountered in miners who worked with certain types of void-touched crystals."
"But I've never worked with such things," my mother protested.
I noticed something shift in her expression as she said it. It was a flicker of her eyes away from mine, a slight tensing of her shoulders. She fidgeted with the edge of her shawl, pulling it tighter around herself despite the warmth in the room.
"Mom?" I leaned forward, studying her face. "Is everything okay?"
"Of course." Her voice was too bright, too quick. She wouldn't meet my eyes, instead focusing on adjusting the teacup in her hands. "Just tired, that's all."
Vic cleared his throat. "Perhaps I could ask about your husband's work? Did he ever bring home unusual materials? Anything with properties similar to anchor crystals but... different?"
My mother's hands trembled slightly, causing tea to slosh against the rim of her cup. "I wouldn't know about such things. Marv kept his work separate from our home life."
That was a lie. My father had always shared everything about his work with us, often spreading components across our dinner table to get our opinions on his latest designs. I frowned, watching as my mother's gaze darted toward the workshop where Jask was still rummaging around.
"Mrs. Farren," Vic said gently, "anything you can tell us might help. Even small details could make a difference in understanding your condition."
She opened her mouth as if to say something important, then seemed to think better of it. "I'm sorry I can't be more helpful," she murmured, setting down her cup. "Perhaps another day when I'm feeling stronger."
The conversation stalled after that, my mother deflecting further questions about her illness. But I couldn't shake the feeling that she was hiding something—something important. Her eyes kept drifting to the workshop door, and whenever Jask's movements grew louder, she tensed slightly.
After another fifteen minutes, Vic packed away his equipment. "Thank you for allowing me to examine you, Mrs. Farren. I'll review my notes and consult some colleagues."
"You're very kind," my mother said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "Juno, could you help me to my room before you go? I think I need to rest."
I helped her stand, supporting her slight weight as we made our way to her bedroom. Once inside with the door closed, I expected her to say whatever she'd been holding back. Instead, she simply squeezed my hand.
"Be careful, Junie," she whispered. "Just... be careful."
"Mom, what's going on? What aren't you telling me?"
She shook her head, her expression pained. "Not now. When your father is home. Please understand."
I wanted to press further, to demand answers, but the exhaustion etched into her face stopped me. Whatever secret she was keeping, forcing it from her now wouldn't help her condition.
"Alright," I said reluctantly. "Get some rest. I'll come back tomorrow."
She nodded, squeezing my hand once more before settling into her bed. I tucked the blankets around her, feeling like I was ten years old again, except our roles were reversed.
When I returned to the sitting room, Jask had emerged from the workshop, his expression oddly thoughtful. Kora was cleaning up from tea, and Vic was making final notes in his journal.
"Ready to go?" I asked, trying to keep my voice light.
As we stepped outside into the afternoon sunlight, I glanced back at the shop window. My mother stood there, watching us leave, her face half-hidden by the curtain. When our eyes met, she quickly stepped back, disappearing from view.
"Your mother is hiding something," Vic said quietly as we walked back toward the docks.
"I know." I kicked at a loose stone in our path, watching it roll down the cobbled street. "She's never kept secrets from me before. At least, none that I've noticed."
Kora fell into step beside me. "Did she say anything when you took her to her room?"
"Just to be careful. And that she'd tell me when my father is home."