sorry, Vicky. I ask you to help with Maria, and you do a great job, and then I act like a resentful bit—” She glanced at Justin. “A resentful witch. I don’t mean to. Things are hard right now.”
I sat down across from her. “Puberty is a rough time, even when there’s no shapeshifting involved.”
“I suppose that’s true. Lucky me—I get twice the fun.” She rolled Justin’s truck back and forth. “I suppose it’s my own fault. I was so worried that Maria would develop shapeshifting abilities, I know my anxiety has rubbed off on her. I just want my baby to have a normal life.”
I wanted to ask Gwen what she thought “normal” meant. For a Cerddorion girl, Maria was doing fine. In fact, she was way above average. If only Gwen could accept her own heritage, she’d be bursting with pride.
But I didn’t have to ask Gwen that question, because Maria appeared in the doorway and asked it for both of us. “‘Normal’? What’s ‘normal,’ Mom? Because if you want me to be like Kelsey or Megan, it’s already too late for that.” Kelsey and Megan were Maria’s best friends—and one hundred percent human.
“Maria—”
My niece held up a hand to show she didn’t want to hear whatever her mother had to say. Gwen bristled, then sagged.
“Aunt Vicky,” Maria said, “can you give me a ride to school?”
“Um, sure. If it’s all right with your mom.”
Maria didn’t wait for Gwen’s answer. She swept past her and through the door to the garage. Gwen jumped at the slam.
“Go ahead, take her to school. Wait, though.” She opened a drawer under the tabletop, took out a pad of paper, and scribbled something on it. “She’ll need to give this note to the office. And here’s some lunch money.” She almost knocked over her chair as she got up and went to the counter. She reached into a canister and then handed me some crumpled dollar bills. “If you hurry, she’ll be in time for third period.”
I took the note and the money, not knowing what to say. Gwen was a great mom. She and Maria would work things out. But it wouldn’t help for me to say so right now. I gave my sister a hug and headed for the door.
“Vicky?” I stopped with my hand on the knob. Gwen’s voice sounded thick. When I looked back, her eyes were shiny withheld-back tears. “Can you come over some day next week? School’s out for April vacation, and I think it would help if you and Maria spent some time together.”
“Of course. I’ll give you a call tomorrow to work out a time.”
“Thanks. I’ll talk to you then.” She turned away, loading breakfast dishes into the dishwasher.
5
YOU KNOW HOW AFTER A NICE, LONG, RESTFUL SLEEP, YOU wake up to find that things don’t seem so bad after all?
Me neither.
While I slept, I’d tried to contact Mab using the dream phone, a special Cerddorion method of communication that operates through the psychic passageways that open in sleep. Mab doesn’t own a real phone, the kind that goes
ring ring
and you pick it up and say “hello.” At three hundred years old, she’s not impressed by modern technology, even something as basic as a telephone. And she’s skilled enough to answer a dream-phone call at any time of day. But today she hadn’t answered.
There could be a million reasons why Mab didn’t answer. It was afternoon in Wales when I’d tried to call. My aunt has a life; she doesn’t sit around waiting to hear from me. And the call wasn’t really urgent; I’d survived the Harpy attack, and the book hadn’t told me anything new. Still, her silence concerned me. Mab had been badly weakened in our battle with Myrddin, and although she’d recovered, I worried about her sometimes. So I’d gotten up, gone into the kitchen, and called the pub in the village near Mab’s home. Mr. Cadogan, the publican, told me Mab was fine as far as he knew; he’d spoken with her at the post officethat morning. He took my message that I was trying to get in touch with her and
I sat down across from her. “Puberty is a rough time, even when there’s no shapeshifting involved.”
“I suppose that’s true. Lucky me—I get twice the fun.” She rolled Justin’s truck back and forth. “I suppose it’s my own fault. I was so worried that Maria would develop shapeshifting abilities, I know my anxiety has rubbed off on her. I just want my baby to have a normal life.”
I wanted to ask Gwen what she thought “normal” meant. For a Cerddorion girl, Maria was doing fine. In fact, she was way above average. If only Gwen could accept her own heritage, she’d be bursting with pride.
But I didn’t have to ask Gwen that question, because Maria appeared in the doorway and asked it for both of us. “‘Normal’? What’s ‘normal,’ Mom? Because if you want me to be like Kelsey or Megan, it’s already too late for that.” Kelsey and Megan were Maria’s best friends—and one hundred percent human.
“Maria—”
My niece held up a hand to show she didn’t want to hear whatever her mother had to say. Gwen bristled, then sagged.
“Aunt Vicky,” Maria said, “can you give me a ride to school?”
“Um, sure. If it’s all right with your mom.”
Maria didn’t wait for Gwen’s answer. She swept past her and through the door to the garage. Gwen jumped at the slam.
“Go ahead, take her to school. Wait, though.” She opened a drawer under the tabletop, took out a pad of paper, and scribbled something on it. “She’ll need to give this note to the office. And here’s some lunch money.” She almost knocked over her chair as she got up and went to the counter. She reached into a canister and then handed me some crumpled dollar bills. “If you hurry, she’ll be in time for third period.”
I took the note and the money, not knowing what to say. Gwen was a great mom. She and Maria would work things out. But it wouldn’t help for me to say so right now. I gave my sister a hug and headed for the door.
“Vicky?” I stopped with my hand on the knob. Gwen’s voice sounded thick. When I looked back, her eyes were shiny withheld-back tears. “Can you come over some day next week? School’s out for April vacation, and I think it would help if you and Maria spent some time together.”
“Of course. I’ll give you a call tomorrow to work out a time.”
“Thanks. I’ll talk to you then.” She turned away, loading breakfast dishes into the dishwasher.
5
YOU KNOW HOW AFTER A NICE, LONG, RESTFUL SLEEP, YOU wake up to find that things don’t seem so bad after all?
Me neither.
While I slept, I’d tried to contact Mab using the dream phone, a special Cerddorion method of communication that operates through the psychic passageways that open in sleep. Mab doesn’t own a real phone, the kind that goes
ring ring
and you pick it up and say “hello.” At three hundred years old, she’s not impressed by modern technology, even something as basic as a telephone. And she’s skilled enough to answer a dream-phone call at any time of day. But today she hadn’t answered.
There could be a million reasons why Mab didn’t answer. It was afternoon in Wales when I’d tried to call. My aunt has a life; she doesn’t sit around waiting to hear from me. And the call wasn’t really urgent; I’d survived the Harpy attack, and the book hadn’t told me anything new. Still, her silence concerned me. Mab had been badly weakened in our battle with Myrddin, and although she’d recovered, I worried about her sometimes. So I’d gotten up, gone into the kitchen, and called the pub in the village near Mab’s home. Mr. Cadogan, the publican, told me Mab was fine as far as he knew; he’d spoken with her at the post officethat morning. He took my message that I was trying to get in touch with her and
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