Page 70 of The Never Queen

“I never bothered to think about what you might have wanted for your life before me,” I admit.

“You were a child. It wasn’t for you to worry about.”

But how tragic it is that she wasn’t able to follow her own dreams.

“What do you want to do now? And Hansel…”

“He told me…she…a witch…ummm…” She frowns, her gaze going unfocused. “Who were we talking about?”

“Hansel,” I remind her.

“Right. He told me that he knows a witch who might be able to help my jumbled mind.”

“Really?” The hope that floods through me takes me by surprise. And I realize in this moment how desperately I wantedmy mother to be well. But just as quickly as the hope springs up, a bit of suspicion breaks through. “A Witch Killer knows a witch that will help him?”

“He told me that since meeting me, he’s started to question the mission of the Order and sometimes he would help the witches escape. One of them told him to come see her, if he ever had a need, that she would repay his kindness.”

“That’s great, Mom. I really hope it works.” I squeeze her shoulder. “You deserve to be well.”

She nods. Her chin wobbles and a tear steals out. She quickly swipes it away. “It would be nice. I think. I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

“Lots of impossible things are possible in the Seven Isles.”

She nods again. “We should get back. It’s getting late. Or early, I suppose.”

“Yes. We’ve all become night creatures with Pan sleeping during the day. But…let’s sit here just a few more minutes so we can see the sunrise.”

“I’d like that.” She stretches her arm out, inviting me into an embrace. And I sink into her side, tears burning in my eyes. All I ever wanted was the warmth of my mother.

When we return to the treehouse, Hansel greets us on the balcony. Vane is nowhere to be found. Pan is already in his tomb. And the twins pull my mother into the living room with the promise of a sweet nightcap. It’s a treat they make me often enough nights and contains chamomile tea, a splash of fairy wine, and valerian root. It’s calming, soothing, and makes me sleepy, and I think it’s exactly what Mom needs after what she went through.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” Hansel asks me.

“Sure.”

We sit in the lounge chairs that overlook the ocean in the distance where twilight is giving away to morning in soft shades of pale blue and lavender.

“I just wanted you to know that I don’t expect anything from you,” Hansel starts. He’s still in his bloody clothes looking every bit the woodsman witch hunter from the fables.

And yet, I sit beside him as his daughter, just as equally entwined in fables as he is.

“I ran from you and your mother,” he goes on. “That’s a choice I made that impacts you and Merry, and I’ll do what I can to make amends, but please know that if you want nothing to do with me, that’s your right and I will respect it.”

“I would like to get to know you,” I tell him. “I feel like I already do from the bedtime stories. Mom used to read it to me all the time. It was my standing favorite for an entire year.”

This seems to make him happy. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Though Gretel was my favorite. Clearly I was a delusional kid.”

“Ahhh. Well.” He sighs, long and low. “She had her moments.”

We’re quiet for a beat and then:

“I want to help your mother, if you’re okay with it.”

“She said you know of a witch who might be able to heal her fractured mind?”

He nods. “She’s a powerful witch who lives in the upper highlands in Summerland now. I helped her escape my sister a few years back.”