by Nora Lee
Again.
Unable to relax, she cleaned up a bit until Maddock urged her to bed—“it can wait until we get some sleep,” he’d said—and she’d gone with him. He had fallen asleep quickly wrapped around Keene’s unconscious form. She didn’t manage more than a couple of hours of fitful sleep.
Not wanting to prolong her unease, Kimberly rose before the sun and did some clean-up on her own.
The problem was, she wasn’t upset about not sleeping. She just looked around the farm, at the footprints in the dirt and the remnants her friends and family had left behind, and saw her mother’s lack.
Mary should have been there.
Why would she have been so desperate to get in contact with Jason, and why would she have talked so earnestly with Kimberly, if she hadn’t wanted to be part of their lives again? Did she enjoy making everyone around her miserable?
No, the answer was probably the same as it had been since Kimberly was a kid: Kimberly cared more than Mary ever would, and it had just gotten her hurt. Again.
When the sun started to rise as much as it would through the clouds, Kimberly didn’t really have the pretense of cleaning anymore.
The coven was pretty good at tidying up after themselves—a benefit of having several witches around whose abilities were magical homemaking. A few waves of their hands, and they could assemble the dishes, brooms, and dustpans into a self-tidying army. After that, the remaining work was mostly sweeping up magical residue.
Kimberly did the last of it and probably finished a good hour before sunrise. With a sigh, she put her broom away. It was the one that Nana Winterblossom had enchanted to fly the night before, and it was looking a bit worse for wear; autumn leaves still clung to its twigs.
After that, there was nothing for Kimberly to do except brood.
Probably because of everything the night before, it still took another hour before there were any signs of life from the other members of the house. Even Thorn was absent from her head, besides the occasional sleepy stir. He’d slept in the barn to be available for her and had been awake far too late for a day-dwelling eagle.
Alone, Kimberly took a cup of coffee and sat in the living room. She couldn’t really will her unhappiness away, and while she didn’t want to stew in it, she didn’t seem to have many other options.
Through the front windows, she could see the fairy garden that she had built in honor of Beltane. The fairies were still enjoying it. They didn’t take a single night to celebrate sabbats: they took many days, many weeks, possibly months depending on their mood. If they approved of the garden, they might even remain until midwinter.
From that angle, she could only see the glittering of their lights and the occasional puff of dust, which looked very much like glitter. The ring of oversized mushrooms concealed everything else.
If Kimberly focused, she thought she could almost hear the sweet strains of their music.
When Maddock and Keene appeared, she wished them a good morning, but she didn’t join them for breakfast. It was less about dragging them down and more about…just needing her space.
The house didn’t necessarily feel like the best place for feeling like she did.
And yet, somehow, that left her feeling like she should stick closer to home than ever. Keene needed his mom. She heard the thought like a chant in her head: Keene needs me, Keene needs me…
“Mommy?”
Kimberly broke from her reverie. Her coffee was cold in her hands, and Maddock and Keene were standing in front of her, dressed for their day.
“I’m taking Keene to school,” Maddock said.
Kimberly frowned. “What?”
“You obviously need some time to yourself. It’s fine. Keene had so much fun with Fern last night. He wants to see the kids again, and—”
“No.”
Maddock frowned. “Hon.”
She stood, feeling suddenly, fiercely protective of him. “He stays here. I want him to stay here.”
“Keene,” Maddock said, not looking away from Kimberly. “Why don’t you go to your room to get Poke? Fern will want to see him again.”
Keene looked uncertainly between them, and Kimberly felt a stab of guilt. He was so little still. Parents disagreed, but it didn’t seem fair that it happened while he was still too young to understand why.
She and Maddock usually agreed on that. They never quarreled where he could see.
Kimberly must have been really out of sorts if she had picked a battle with her husband while their wee bairn was in the room.
“Go get Poke, sweetie,” Kimberly told him gently. “If you want to.”
He nodded and went, but he paused once on his way, waiting for both Kimberly and Maddock to nod reassuringly back.
“I’ve told you,” Kimberly said quietly, as soon as Keene was in his room, “that I didn’t want him going to school.”
“He likes it there, wife of mine. And you need the time. A lot is happening right now, and you need to focus on yourself. There’s no shame in that!”
“No shame,” Kimberly echoed.
“I’m not joking when I say that you could use a few days to yourself. You’re always running yourself ragged, keeping Keene close, refusing to take time alone…”
“You want me to leave!”
“That’s not what I—”
“You do. You keep telling me to leave.”
“I say you can—”
She held up a hand. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all of this. You’re right.”
Kimberly strode out of the room, clutching a shawl around her, and burst into the cloudy day.
Everything hurt, but she could do this with a little dignity, at least. If there was any dignity to be had when you were leaving your family.
“Kimberly!” Maddock yelled after her.
He never called her by her name. She was “wife of mine,” not Kimberly.
Things were indeed dire if he were calling her by name.
She felt the direness of it all within the marrow of her bones.
Her hollow bones, lightened by the magic of the eagle.
Maddock wanted her to leave? He wanted her to focus on herself, like Mary O’Malley, who couldn’t even come to one accursed sabbat to meet her grandson?
Very well.
Kimberly would take some alone time.
All of it.
She closed her eyes and embraced her magic. It was so easy with the remnants of the coven’s magic from the night before still dancing in the air. She took flight like she normally took breath.
It was probably the first time Kimberly hadn’t felt relieved to be flying.
She wasn’t alone. She felt Thorn take off from where he was in the farm; she hadn’t even noticed him arriving. He wanted her to go back, and if he’d caught her, she knew she would have probably listened. But she used her magic and everything she’d learned, as well as the desperation of someone who didn’t want to be caught.
Before long, Thorn was nothing but a sad echo in the back of her head.
Kimberly was soaring over the forest alone. Just like she’d always known she would.
17
Kimberly flew and flew, but no matter how far she went, she couldn’t shake her anger, her grief, her sadness.
Mary O’Malley hadn’t come.
She hadn’t come.
And now Maddock wanted her gone.
The thing was, both Kimberly’s instinct and Maddock were right. She had been wrong to think that leaving would make her feel better. If anything, it made her feel a thousand times worse to be away from her son. Each flap of her wings put a few more feet between Kimberly and her son. Her husband. Her familiar. And every few feet hurt worse than the last.
But as Maddock had insisted, it was also true that she had needed the space to focus on herself for a little while.
She didn’t feel like she was burdening anyone else with her grief, with her anger at herself, or with her anger at her mother. She was just…flying. There was nothing
but Kimberly and the sky.
It was amazing how freeing it was to just exist as herself, the eagle that she had spent so long denying.
And it was amazing just how horrible the thought left her feeling.
Kimberly kept going.
She plunged into the depths of the mountains outside of Secret Hallow.
The village was located in the Pacific Northwest, as far as mundane geography went. It was accessible by a road not too far from Seattle, at least.
That meant that it shouldn’t have been far for Kimberly to fly before running into civilization.
But she didn’t.
And it wasn’t exactly like she was flying in circles, either. It was merely that the forest and ocean coastline was endless.
It wasn’t long before sunset that she saw the wolf.
One wolf. Solitary.
For all the talk of lone wolves, Kimberly knew it wasn’t common to see them by themselves, especially one looking in good condition. She thought that she recognized the white-gray shaggy fur and the lean body of the beast.
And actually…she knew the markings on the wolf, too.
At least Kimberly didn’t have to worry that an injury or some kind of problem had kept Mary away from the farm.
Kimberly’s instinct—or maybe fate—had led her toward her mother.
Mary went to drink from a stream, and Kimberly landed on a branch noisily, rustling the branches together with her wings.
It worked as an attention-getting gesture; Mary looked up, tilting her head quizzically.
Kimberly hadn’t told Mary that she could shapeshift into a hawk, so she hadn’t expected her mother to recognize her. But there was knowing in her eyes. Mary saw the magic in Kimberly, and she recognized her kindred.
Kimberly took to the air again, doing a circle around the clearing they were in before landing on the same branch again. Once she was sure her mother’s eyes were on her, she nodded toward the east where there was a large break in trees.
Mary nodded like she understood, and they both took off in the same direction.
The open air gave Kimberly the opportunity to get a great view of the wolf. She had never gotten much of an opportunity to see her mother as a wolf before. On the rare occasions that Mary had been around during Kimberly’s childhood, she had been in her human form, wishing that she were a wolf. The instant she took on all fours, she’d gone into the wild.
But now Kimberly got to see her mother as a wolf. She was indistinguishable from the real thing. Maddock had chased a few wolves away from their livestock before, and the only difference between those and Mary were the brightness of her fur. Even in her animal form, the magic that allowed her to change all but poured from her flesh.
No wonder Mary had recognized her.
Now that Kimberly knew what she was seeing, she believed that she would recognize a fellow shapeshifter anywhere.
She swooped to the side as the wolf ran, watching the muscles in Mary’s legs flex and her fur flutter as the breeze moved through it.
Kimberly wondered if running felt as incredible to Mary as flying did to Kimberly.
If it did, then could Kimberly really blame her mother for running away from her life, her children, her home?
Wasn’t that what Kimberly had done that day, too?
There was no judgment left in her. Only despair, and the deep, driving need to be with her son.
After they crossed the field, Mary continued to run. She took them through forest with a high canopy and widely-spaced trees. It let them both weave through trees and get protection from the outside world, something that Kimberly needed acutely even with her human instincts.
It didn’t feel like there was anything else in the world at all besides the occasional flash of an insect or a smaller bird in the corner of Kimberly’s vision. She could tune out the distant sound of cars all too easily.
But it didn’t last forever. Before too long, Mary slowed and walked to a set of rocks, changing into a human.
When her mouth returned, Mary was laughing, her breath heavy.
“You…you put me through my paces,” she said, wiping at her forehead. “Aren’t you tired yet?”
Kimberly landed on the ground at the same time she shifted back. It was easier than ever, just as easy as taking on her eagle form had been when she had been angry at Maddock.
“Very tired,” Kimberly said.
“It’s strange to see you here,” Mary said. “I thought you were in Secret Hallow.”
“And I thought that you were going to come to see me there.”
Mary’s smile faltered.
“Let’s walk,” she said.
Kimberly felt fragile as she followed her mother to the closest part of the stream. Being in her human form made the emotions she felt more intense somehow, and turning back into the bird and flying away…well. She’d done that enough.
Despite Mary’s nice dress, Kimberly’s mother had no compunctions about kneeling on the leaf-covered forest floor and leaning forward to grab water out of the stream. After a couple mouthfuls, Mary looked at Kimberly, raising a questioning eyebrow. Kimberly shook her head, and Mary continued to drink.
When she was done, Mary asked, “So what were you doing this far out? Looking for me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” Kimberly gazed in the direction of the farm. She wasn’t sure where she was, exactly, but she couldn’t have lost the farm if she’d wanted to. Wherever she had been going, and no matter how long it had taken, Kimberly would always be able to find her way home. “I left them.”
“Who?”
Kimberly’s throat felt tight. She swallowed thickly and said, “My family. I’m just like you. I couldn’t control the eagle anymore.”
“What?”
“Do I have to spell it out for you?” Kimberly uncrossed her arms. “I was upset you didn’t show up for Beltane. I was overwhelmed. The magic…it keeps calling to me, just like it was calling to you, so I left. Sound familiar?”
Mary looked…upset? Her chin was wobbling a bit like she wanted to cry.
Kimberly’s breath caught. She’d never seen her mother upset, and there was a part of her that felt an awful lot like her childhood self that wanted to hug her.
“I caused this,” Mary whispered.
“The animal caused this,” Kimberly said. It felt important that her mother should know that she just wasn’t that important. That being out of Kimberly’s life for twenty years meant that she didn’t have a right to lay claim to anything that Kimberly was dealing with, whether good or bad. “It’s our magic. The shapeshifting thing. It makes us run away from our families.”
“Oh, daughter,” Mary said. She rose to her feet. “It wasn’t the wolf.”
Kimberly frowned. “What wasn’t?”
“Why…why I left. It wasn’t the wolf.” Mary was shaking as she said it, and Kimberly felt herself beginning to shake, too.
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s one of the things I’ve wanted to tell you and Jason, in case you inherited this magic. Which you obviously did.” There was something that resembled pride on Mary’s face, quickly replaced by another stricken expression. “I didn’t love your father anymore, and raising you and Jason…it’s not that you weren’t wonderful children. But I was at home by myself, and I didn’t have a coven like you do, and…”
She paused, watching Kimberly’s face like she was expecting some kind of reaction. When she didn’t get one—Kimberly felt like she was frozen—Mary went on.
“I was weak,” Mary said. “It was too much for me, and I was weak. I couldn’t handle any of it. I didn’t leave because of the wolf. I left because…”
She didn’t finish the sentence.
Kimberly filled in the blanks for her, though.
Mary had left because she hadn’t loved her children as much as she’d loved her independence.
That was something else that Kimberly had been wrong to think—that her mother had no power over her
anymore.
But the way that her heart was shattering made it clear that wasn’t true at all.
It felt like being abandoned all over again.
“I can’t get that time back,” Mary said, eyes brimming with tears. “I’ve gotten all the alone time a person could want, and it’s…it wasn’t all that I hoped it would be. And I tried to go to your ritual. I swear I did. But when I reached the borders of Secret Hallow, I was filled with uncertainty. I wasn’t sure if my presence would make anything better.”
“Did you consider what would happen if you didn’t show up at all?” Kimberly asked.
Mary’s blank look said enough.
She hadn’t thought that far.
In fact, she probably hadn’t been trying to decide if her presence would improve Kimberly’s life at all. She’d probably only been thinking of herself. What it would do for her life to have family in it again.
All the freedom she would lose if she was expected to show up for family events, spend time with her grandchildren, join the coven in spells.
“I don’t know that I deserve another chance,” Mary said. “And now…” She cut off with a strangled noise and turned away, raising a hand to her mouth.
I’m not like her.
The thought was loud and clear in Kimberly’s head, and with it came rolling relief.
She wasn’t like her mother.
She loved Keene and parenting him, even if homeschooling was a bit of a disaster. She loved Maddock and their farm. She loved the coven, even if all their power scared her sometimes.
Kimberly thought of very little except how she could be with them and help them.
Mary O’Malley did not.
And the allure of Kimberly’s eagle must have been the normal allure of magic, nothing more than the search for an outlet to her power, which was entirely natural to witchlings coming into their abilities. But since Mary’s transformation had coincided with leaving her family, Kimberly had simply assumed that hers must, too.
Maddock had been right all along. About everything.
“I’m not like you,” Kimberly said aloud, sounding confused.
Mary sniffled. “I was scared. Still am, really. You…I don’t know much about where you’re living, but you have so much love. I can tell. It radiates off you. I’ve never had that love.”
