Page 98 of Search for the Lost

He knew that the whirling gray and silver bands twisted and writhed inside the fierce circular wind, battering the house and tumbling it hither and fro. And yet inside, it seemed as if it was the tornado that was tumbling. Only an occasional tremor and soft groan of the house’s wooden frame gave away the game. Nice bit of magick, that.

Watching the tempest was easier than looking at his mother. She seemed… ancient. Something he had never expected to see.

She was old, certainly—at least nine centuries, if what she had told them was true. His brother Aspin was at least two hundred years old. But to hear it… no, to see it—especially in the wrinkles etched into her face like the gullies and ravines of Septus Prime after the floods—that was something else again.

Leo was in the kitchen, “whipping up a little something,” his way of giving Crispin a little time alone with his mother.

A hand squeezed his shoulder. “You seem… hurt.” Her touch was tentative. Frail. So unlike the strong monarch she’d been all of his life, and for so much longer. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated. “It all seemed necessary at the time, but I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He gathered his courage to ask the thing that had been bothering him for days. “How could you use those shadow-puppets like that? It’s perverse, letting them have a life and then snuffing it out.”

She sighed. “It was… wrong. I see that now. But you have to understand, it was the only way. I had to send that Chaos baby as far away as I could, as fast as I could. It was my only choice.”

Crispin took in a deep breath and sighed, not sure just how to respond. He decided on “It’s… a lot to take in.” Although he wanted to be angry with her, to rail at her for what she had done, he was tired, and he could see that she was too. They had both done things they regretted. And she’d confessed to everything. Setting up a test for Leo and for their love for each other. Involving Aspin in the invented quest without his knowledge. And running to hide so they’d have to come find her. Putting us to the test.

“Why did you do it?”

He knew why. He wanted to hear her say it.

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand what he was asking. “Come sit with me. These old bones don’t agree with standing so much anymore.” She chuckled, a self-deprecating laugh. “I didn’t count on being cut off from my own magick. That’s never happened before, in all these long, tiring centuries.” She led him across the room to a faded yellow-and-orange couch covered by a hand-quilted chocolate-brown blanket, neither of which would have been out of place in Leo’s old apartment.

Have to make sure Leo doesn’t try to sneak out with that blanket. Crispin felt an incipient chuckle at the thought and stopped it with a couple of fingers against his lips. He remained standing.

Cerillia patted the edge of the couch. “Please. Sit.”

Crispin sighed, then sat, but at the edge of the cushion. He wasn’t ready to relax around her, not just yet.

The fact was, he’d never relaxed around his mother, Queen of the Fae. Not once in all his long life. Always on his toes, always striving to show he was good enough. Worthy of her love. Like his older brother Aspin.

The brother he’d hated, until they’d been forced into this journey together and he’d learned some things he’d never known, especially about how Aspin had taken care of him. Maybe that’s the lesson here.

She folded her hands in her lap as gently as if they were forged of brittle glass. “When you were born, you were the perfect child. You never cried. You would smile up at me as if I were the sun and moon combined, and grab my pinkie finger with your hand as if I were your entire world.” She looked down at her gnarled fingers, her face beaming with wonder. “I was so frightened for you.”

Crispin blinked. Come again? “Frightened? You were scared of me?”

Her mouth opened in an O of surprise. “No, not at all! I was scared for you. For what you might become. Like me, you were the embodiment of Order, and Order can be cruel, capricious, and uncaring about the needs of the imperfect.” She took his hand between hers. Her palms were icy, devoid of their usual warmth. “I wanted more for you than that. When you looked up at me with those trusting eyes, I knew I had to do better with you than I did with Aspin.”

He stared at her. “Who are you, and what have you done with my mother?”

She laughed, a genuinely pleasant sound that disconcerted him even more. “My time here is coming to an end, and I am seeing things more clearly than I have in a long time.” She patted his hand.

What does that mean? “Why isn’t Aspin in line to be King?” It had been bothering him for a long time. Aspin was older. Braver. More handsome. Everything Crispin wasn’t and would never be.

“Aspin is… flawed in his own way. He is the son of one of the Red Dukes.” Her brow creased with memory. “Aaran, I believe, though there were so many of them that night.” Her voice held a mixture of pleasure and regret.

“Holy crap!” One of Leo’s favorite phrases came out of his mouth without him even thinking about it. Minkis popped up his head at the outburst, and then put it down again. “Does Aspin know?”

She shook her head vigorously. “No, and he never will, if I have my way. The Dukes are cold and calculating, and Aspin… I did my best with him. He is more caring than you know.” She frowned, the lines of her forehead deepening. “Once you leave this place—if you find a way—you’ll have to go after them and⁠—”

He closed his eyes. “They’re dead. We killed them all.” The memory tugged at him. He hated ending the life of any creature. But the Red Dukes had threatened his family, and had gotten what they deserved. Her yelp of surprise got his attention.

Her eyes had gone wide. “They’re… gone?” Again, that strange blend of satisfaction and… longing? “Then Aspin must be told. He’ll be the new Duke of Vespertine. How did you do it?”

“I’ve made a family of my own, it seems. We fight for each other when it matters.” It sounded bitter when he said it. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean….”

In response, she pulled him close to hug him. “Oh Crispin, if you could just see yourself now. You’ve become the man I always hoped you would. Leo… he’s been good for you.”

Hearing her say it, while she held him in her arms—just like he’d always wished she would, warm and close, not cold and aloof—melted something inside of him.