Page 85 of Magic Cursed


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Daimis crosses the room and opens the arched, wooden door. As soon as the door opens, I feel a familiar pull. A tugging that I’ve felt two times before, only this time it’s stronger. My heart starts to race, and I fidget with my robe.

“I came as soon as I heard. I was on a diplomatic mission,” a woman’s voice says. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you home.”

I can’t see her from where I’m standing, but her resonate voice has the hair on the back of my neck standing up. I’m anxious and I don’t even know why. I walk forward, following my instinct to see the fae woman walking into the room.

She wears light brown fighting leathers with beautiful designs etched into the polished armor over it and a beige and white fur cloak which falls in a cape from her shoulders. Her long, dark-brown hair is intricately braided, showing off her pointed ears. A circlet of gold with a blue Faestone in the middle sits on her forehead. Her eyes are a stunning blue that matches the Faestone—and, I realize, my own. Any doubts I might have had about her identity are gone. She is most certainly Laneya Tanaris—my mother.The fae queen warmly embraces Daimis. She backs up, takes his face in her hands, and kisses his forehead. I can imagine her doing it to him since he was a boy.

“Are you well?” she asks Daimis. “I was so worried when I saw everything that conspired in the sky. I just knew you were a part of it, and I prayed to the gods above and below to keep you safe.”

“I am well,” Daimis says.

“The Regent?” she asks.

“Dead. His plans thwarted.”

Her shoulders relax. She tilts her head a little, examining Daimis. “You look skinnier,” she says. “Do they not feed you in Thaaryn?” Annoyance drips from her words.

Daimis chuckles. “They fed me, but truth be told, the food isn’t as good.”

As though my mother can feel my intense gaze on her, she turns to me. That’s when I see the pendant hanging from her neck. A triple infinity knot with a blue stone in the middle. Our family symbol.

My stomach flips and my hands shake with wanting to go to her. What is wrong with me? She might be my mother, but I don’t know her. She doesn’t even know me for that matter. She still thinks her daughter died the night of the Blood Moon. She hasn’t seen me since I was a baby. She’s probably wondering who this strange human is gawking at her.

And yet Laneya Tanaris’s gaze slowly, intently runs over each of my facial features. She closes the distance, and her hand goes to her mouth, a small emotional noise escaping it.

“Laneya,” Daimis says, watching closely. “This is—”

She nods, eyes watering, and holds a hand up to stop him. “I know,” her strong voice now wavering. She reaches out and traces a finger from my temple to my chin, and even though it’s the first time she’s ever done it, it feels so familiar that my heart aches at the gesture and I don’t back out of her touch. “I’d knowmySahraanywhere.”

“I don’t know you,” I say, and pain flashes across her face at my words. “But…I think...part of me does,” I admit, confused as to how that can be.

She gives me a sad smile. “I can help you understand that, if you’ll allow me to?”

I nod and she places her hands over my temples. She whispers an incantation and all at once memories that weren’t there before flood my mind. Growing up, at every changing season my father, Daimis, and I met my mother at a house just inside fae territory and spent two weeks there together. At the end of our time, my mother would have to cloak the memories until the next time we met when she would unlock them for the two weeks all over again. It continued that way until the night of the Blood Moon.

Every memory is a treasure of joy and laughter, of lessons and insight, of cuddles and kisses on the forehead. I relive them one by one, a piece of my childhood that was hidden to keep me safe from people like the Regent who would have used me against the Queen of the fae if the truth had come out.

The memories seem to go on for a very long time but when I finally open my eyes again, I realize that it was only moments. I stare at the woman who never abandoned me, who loved me and my father, who wished she could be with me but had to rule here, who then raised and cared for Daimis as her own when she thought they had both lost everyone they loved. She watches me with such adoration and warmth, and I feel like I’m a small child once again, that we’ve been reunited like so many other times and I want nothing more than for her to hold me.

My throat tightens. “Momma?”

Tears fall down her beautiful face. “Yes, baby girl, you’re home now.”

She enfolds me into her arms, and I choke on a sob. She strokes my hair in long motions, like she had when I was small. I let her comfort me, emotions flooding me, while I cry and cry into her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she says, crying with me. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been there. I’m here now. I’m here, baby girl.”

I don’t know how long we stay like that. I just hold onto her like she might fade if I don’t, letting her warmth chase away the years of longing for a mother’s love.

* * *

Daimis and I spend the better part of the day talking to my mother on the deep, soft couches in the beautiful room. I tell them both everything that happened to me after the Blood Moon. My mother seems very interested in Desmira and asks endless questions about her and Hydenglen. But I suppose any mother would want to know more about the woman who raised her child.

My mother sits to the left of me on the couch. “It would seem all but one part of your glamour faded over time,” she says. “Would you like me to remove it?”

“I’m still glamoured?” I ask. “I’m a little scared of what it might be.”

“Don’t be, only your ears are still glamoured. They are a physical feature that defines your true heritage, which could have put you in danger in Thaaryn, which is why I placed an impenetrable glamour on them, ensuring that I am the only one who could remove it. If you want me to.”

I nod to her, and she leans forward, placing both of her hands over my ears. She says a few words in the ancient tongue. Tingling heat tickles the tips of my ears, which quickly fades.

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