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“Oh.” Ace’s attention was bouncing back and forth between the mother and the daughter. “I think we should meet and talk about the future of Pasia and what all this means now that the wards are down.”
“And there will be time for that.” Derfla remained serious despite the way her daughter started bouncing on her toes with excitement. “We can talk tomorrow if you’d like. For now, let me enjoy that my son has returned home.”
“Okay.” Who was she to come between a mother and her son?
Shelby groaned into his palms. It didn’t sound like he much enjoyed the idea. Shouldn’t he have been excited to see his family too? Or perhaps the scars on his back were too deep to truly heal.
“So I can get her ready?” Margo asked.
“Feed her first.” Derfla stepped out of the way of the door.
Small hands yanked Ace forward with surprising strength. Before she could so much as say goodbye to Shelby, Margo had pulled her through the door and into the hallway.
“Be careful with her, she almost died!” Derfla yelled before the door clicked shut.
The distance between them was already growing and fast. Margo was practically sprinting.
Other rooms came and went, one of which had Rehan still waiting in it. Ace wouldn’t know which room it was because Margo had already taken her out of the building and into the yard. What wasn’t a walkway was a withering garden. In the corner of the yard branches of a tree draped with the weight of red apples. The fruit was twisted away and tossed quickly at Ace as Margo moved to the street.
Ace nearly dropped the apple but managed to get a firm hold on it last minute. Dirt that was dusted on the peel was easily wiped away on her borrowed shirt.
“Hurry!” Margo said, excitedly.
Digging her teeth into her small snack, Ace tried to move faster while she examined what she could of the legendary, mostly forgotten, city of lost witches. It turned out Glatton wasn’t all that spectacular.
What had she expected? Some advanced society?
Glatton was far from that. If anything, it reminded her of Rivers Bend. Run down and hardly able to survive.
The buildings looked patched together and any space that was green was planted with vegetation of varying success. The majority looked like it held failing crops. Ace knew a dying plant when she saw one, thanks to all those long days playing while her mother gardened alone until Ace had fought with her sisters one too many times and had been put to work.
Women and men alike were moving quickly setting up tables and stringing up lanterns. Several of them looked up and stared as Ace walked by with the young girl. Ace couldn’t hold their stares as they shifted into something of shock, for fear of watching them transform again into that same disapproving look she’d received from so many others. They didn’t have to say it, she knew they thought she was a freak of nature.
“Do you think the apple can hold you over for now?” Margo kicked open a gate that led to a small home with windows that tilted as if the house hadn’t settled well.
“I’ll be okay.” She didn’t want to impose. Especially on a thirteen-year-old.
“Good. Because mother always says we can’t eat more than our portions and we hadn’t portioned for all of you in this last harvest. But that’s okay because you got the wards down!” Margo smiled, pushing the door open with her back.
The floors were more dust than wood, the couch was sunken, and a chair off to the side had more than one hole in the fabric. Not that she was judging because, hey, she’d been here done that. This was more furniture than she had in her little apartment! In comparison, this was a mansion.
“Is this your house?” Ace asked, unable to get a look at much else as they headed into a smaller room with a thin mattress and painted pictures stuck all over the walls. “Is this your room?”
“Yeah. I live here with my mom and dad. I have a grandma too but she’s not here. And Shelby but you’ve met him.”
A small white chair was dragged back from a vanity with a cracked mirror, and the legs drew lines on the dusty floor. The stacks of books that took up most of the vanity top were eagerly moved to give them a clean view of the mirror.
“Come sit and I’ll get you ready.”
Ace wondered as she lowered herself into the seat if she should tell her that she’d met her grandma before. Maybe that would only make her sad, so she kept it to herself.
“How old are you?” Margo asked.
“Uh, nineteen.”
Those pretty hazel eyes squinted at Ace, examining her closely. One of her hands stroked at her chin as Margo thought. “What’s your favorite color?”
Ace hadn’t thought about her favorite color in a long time. She took a moment to ponder it thinking back to the dress Shelby had put her in the day they’d met. “Purple,” she finally said.
