Shadow Rising

I sat in the passenger seat beside Mom as she gripped the steering wheel and drove through the streets with her teeth clenched. I’d never seen her look like this before. Or at least I’d never seen her look like this in support of me, rather than as a result of something I’d done.

“So is the wedding off then?” I asked, rather too hopefully.

Mom didn’t say a word. She kept her gaze dead ahead.

I carried on. “Because if it’s over, I’ll totally support you. We could move back to Bear Mountain.” I paused, thinking of Nik and Retta. In such a short space of time they’d become my friends, providing a tether between me and this place. “Or just into an apartment, the two of us.”

Again, Mom didn’t respond.

“Maybe it’d be good for you to be alone for a bit,” I suggested, still trying to get her to see things from my perspective. “I mean, your relationship with Geiser was going pretty fast, wasn’t it? How well do you really know him?”

“Stop talking, Theia,” Mom said coldly.

Her woodpecker nipped me.

“Ow,” I muttered, rubbing my arm.

I fell silent. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to try to persuade her to leave Geiser, while the wounds were still fresh.

I changed tack. “So your parents, huh? You think they’ll be pleased to finally meet me? Looking like this?” I gestured to my stained nightdress.

Mom grimaced. “I understand this is far from ideal for you. Trust me, it’s worse for me.”

I felt for Mom. She’d not seen her parents for eighteen years. They’d barely spoken. Ever since she’d run away from New York to be with my dad, they’d only ever exchanged cards at holidays, and even then they’d been really formal, dispassionate ones. You know, “season’s greetings” and “on your birthday.” Mom could be cold with me but through their greeting card choices, her folks came across as emotionless androids. For her to turn up on their doorstep, eighteen years later, tail between her legs, was bound to be pretty humiliating for Mom.

We pulled up outside an enormous mansion that would give Geiser a run for his money. No wonder Mom missed living in New York City so much. This was what she’d been raised with. Geiser’s house was like a weird replica of her childhood home.

I whistled. “This is where you grew up?”

Mom nodded, stiffly. She looked overwhelmed.

“What did you say Grandpa did for a living?”

“Federal attorney,” came Mom’s robotic reply.

I clicked my fingers. “Okay, now the whole Geiser thing makes sense. You need a man in government. You have daddy issues.”

Mom shot me a withering glance. Her woodpecker lunged for me, but I snatched my arm out the way before it could get a second nip in.

We got out of the car. I felt a little ball of nerves form in my gut. I was about to meet my maternal grandparents for the first time in my life. This was the Mage part of me. The hidden part, the suppressed part, the person I could’ve been had Mom made different choices.

A maid answered the door. She was a pretty Daimon woman with two stubby horns and amber eyes lined with kohl.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“I’m Vivian Delacour,” Mom announced. “I’m here to see my parents.”

The maid’s eyes grew round with surprise. “Mr. and Mrs. Delacour are sleeping,” she stammered.

“Then please wake them,” Mom said. “I’ll wait in the guest lounge.”

“Of course,” the maid said.

She scurried away from the door, allowing us inside. Mom waltzed into the hallway like she owned the place.

I glanced around. Mom’s childhood house was insane. It had the same waste-of-space foyer as Geiser’s did—two stories dedicated to nothing but a sweeping staircase—only there was also a chandelier.

Just then, two tired-looking people wrapped up in fluffy nightgowns appeared at the top of the staircase.

“Viv?” the woman cried.

Her delicate sparrow familiar flapped along beside her as she hurried down the steps, tears glittering in her eyes.

When she reached the foyer, she wrapped Mom up in her arms.

“You came home,” she said.

I stood there awkwardly. It felt so intrusive to witness this reunion. Eighteen years was a long time not to see someone in the flesh. And now Mom had dropped in unannounced in the middle of the night.

The man, my grandfather, was a little more stoic. He strode slowly down the stairs, his movements stiffer than his wife’s. His familiar was a bright-yellow canary that sat quietly on his shoulder, watching everything with its head tipped curiously to the side.

When he reached Mom, he placed a strong hand on her shoulder. “How are you?”

It seemed such a lackluster thing to say after eighteen years of estrangement. I got a real sense of sympathy for Mom. She’d left all this behind because she’d thought she loved my father.

“I’m well,” she said, stiffly. “I’m back in New York City.”

My mouth dropped open. I knew Mom was a secret keeper—she’d kept her relationship with Geiser hidden from me for a year, after all—but she’d not even told her parents she’d moved back to the city? Come to think of it, there’d been no “new house” card from the Delacours. There hadn’t even been a “congratulations on your engagement” one. Maybe Mom hadn’t even told them about Geiser?

Mom gestured to me with her hand. “This is Theia.”

The Delacours looked at me. Then Gran approached and cupped my face in her hands. “You look just like Heath.”

I felt a pang of grief deep inside at the mention of Dad. My poor dad stuck in Limbo.

In a rush, all my fear and anxiety came back at me. I felt myself sway.

“Come in. Take a seat,” Gran said, looking worried. “You’ve clearly been through a lot.”

She wrapped an arm around my shoulder and guided me to the couch. The feel of her was exactly like my grandma back in Bear Mountain.

As we sat on the couches, Grandpa poured us glasses of brandy. The maid lit a fire in the hearth, making warm orange light dance about the place.

But before I even had a chance to put my glass to my lips, I passed out, falling into a deep, exhausted sleep.