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“What?”
“Quinn, what’s happening? How does this hag change to look like your mom?” Dad sobs. “Quinn, I think I’m losing my mind.”
“No, Dad, you’re fine. I’m walking up to the house now. Go to your room and lock the door.”
“Quinn, that’s not helping,” Mom says.
“Let him be,” I snap. “I’m almost home, I’ll handle it.”
I’m half a block from the house. I run down the sidewalk, glad for the training the Druid has had me doing. When I enter the house I barely feel winded, which is a nice change.
“You can’t hide in there,” Mom says from the hall. “Now come on out and be good. It’s almost dinner time.”
“No. You’re not her,” my dad yells.
I close the door as quietly as I can and walk on my toes towards the hallway door. Sweat forms on my back and chest. I hold my breath, trying to make sure she doesn’t know I’m home yet. This is completely off the deep end, but I need to see her.
Magical energy rumbles in my core, swirling, and more trickles in, filling that pool in my guts. Mom pounds on the door to their bedroom. I pause right before I step into the hallway. I’m light-headed and my pulse is pounding in my ears. Something is telling me don’t look. I don’t want to know this. It’s like I know I’m about to see something horrible and a primal part of my brain is trying to save me the experience, but I can’t not know.
I step into the hall. Mom and Dad’s room is to the left, and when I step in I’m facing their door. The hallway shimmers, blurring for an instant, and I gasp. He’s right. That isn’t my mom.
The creature standing where my mom should be is a hulking gray monstrosity with stringy hair that reaches halfway down its back. It has broad shoulders and is wearing a rough spun shift that leaves shoulders and arms exposed. It has gray skin that is covered with warts or some kind of dark growths.
“Leave him alone,” I order.
“Quinn.” The creature turns and the hall shimmers as the glamour falls back into place. “That’s no way to speak to your mother. I thought I raised you with better manners than that.”
I blink and hold my eyes closed for a moment longer than necessary as I pull on the magical energy. It flows through my guts, crackling, then rushing through my body. It’s like blood rushing to my head, bringing a sudden and unexpected high. As it crackles through my brain the glamour blasts away.
“What are you?”
“Quinn, I’m your mother. What is wrong with you?”
I’m strangely calm, all things considered. Maybe I’ve gone past my ability to be shocked or surprised. I think part of me suspected this. The way every one of the Fae acted when I mentioned my mom, the surprise on their faces. My only question is if they knew, why didn’t they tell me? Which is a question I’m going to put to both Dugald and the Druid. One of them will answer me.
“Look, the games over. You’re not my mother. The only question, right now, is if I’m going to have to kill you or not.”
Mom/not mom laughs. “Kill me? Oh Quinn, what has happened to my little girl.”
I take a step forward, raising my right fist between us and then pointing one finger.
“No. You don’t say that. I’m not your anything.”
“Quinn, I don’t understand.”
“Don’t try to play coy. Even my poor sick dad sees through your game. Drop the glamour and get the hell out of my house.”
The thing’s demeanor changes. Its shoulders drop and it lowers its head with a heavy sigh.
“Well, Destroyer, I guess this is it after all.”
“Who or what are you?”
“Does it matter?”
“Not really, no. Where’s my mom?”
Still, the preternatural calm reigns in my thoughts. I feel like I should win an Academy Award for my cool performance.
