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"I thought all information on Anea was lost forever," Mara said, her hands shaking a little as she touched the saint's disgruntled and beautiful expression.
"All except that book and what the family carries by oral tradition," Athanasius answered, scratching at his ear. "Your grandmother used to say that was the only copy ever made. One of the other saints commissioned it, and it's been passed down. I think it was to go to one of your younger aunts, but Sophia made off with it because she wanted you to have it."
Mara hummed disbelievingly. "If that were true, she would have given it to me earlier."
"Maybe Sophia thought that you would be smart enough to go through her things once she died, not lock them up and sulk for years."
"It's called grieving," Mara argued.
Athanasius gave her the deathly bored stare that cat owners all over the world were familiar with. "I know how much you grieved for your mother, and that is not at all,cioara."
Mara ignored him and picked up the other book. It wasn't so carefully treasured as the other one. Its leather was scratched and battered and ink-stained.
Mara flipped it open to reveal a series of notes written in different handwritings. It reminded her of an accounting book, but she knew from experience that such a thing as bookkeeping was seen as a waste of time by her mother and aunts.
Mara flipped to the first page where someone had written in Latin, 'Lives of the Crow Saints', and underneath that in a messier hand and in French, 'And all their curses and deaths.'
It was a logbook of lives. Mara's cheeks were wet with tears though she wouldn't have been able to articulate why she was overcome by emotion.
"Don't cry, little crow," Athanasius said, jumping to the floor so he could brush his warm body against her.
"Why haven't I ever seen this before?" Mara sniffed.
"Sophia was complicated even for a Corvo. She saw too far in the future sometimes for her own good, and there was much that haunted her. Maybe she wanted to spare you some of the burdens of it all. She came to Australia so that you both could start again, free of the confines of the old traditions," Athanasius replied.
"But we didn't! We've just hidden away like we would have back in Europe. She wanted to come here, not to start a new life, but to run away from her old one," Mara said viciously, shutting the book with a snap.
"You can't outrun your blood and your destiny. She tried, and she died in pain, screaming at ghosts, alone and bitter and full of hatred for everyone and everything!"
Mara kicked a pile of letters across the room and snatched up the books off the floor. Athanasius just made it out the door before the rage and magic swirling around Mara slammed the door shut, locking the painful memories of her mother away once more.
If Mara had bothered to calm down and ask him, Athanasius might have told her that it was the loss of love that made Sophia sail to Australia.
And it was because of the remaining love that she tried to keep Mara as safe as she could, even though it would mean Sophia's own broken heart would eat her away to feathers. But Mara didn't ask, so he didn't tell.
* * *
Mara returned to the front of the shop and opened theSayings of the Blessed Crow. She was still there two hours later when the door opened unexpectedly, and Augustus walked in.
"How did you do that?" Mara demanded.
"Do what? Walk through a door?"
"It was locked."
"Not for me. Why is it locked? Hello, by the way. What's wrong?" Augustus asked, taking off his coat.
"I—" Mara felt the lie on her tongue, but something about his expression killed it. "I found some books my mother hid from me, and I'm upset about it."
"That could explain why the magic on this side of town has been pulsing strangely all morning." Augustus looked at the books in front of her. "Anything good?"
"Sayings that are apparently attributed to Saint Anea." Mara closed the book. "She didn't think too much of sorcerers either by the sounds of things."
"There are bad apples in every bunch, I suppose," Augustus said. His frown deepened as he studied her face, his strange eyes taking in every part of her.
"You know what? I am going to make you a cup of tea, and you can tell me why these interesting books have upset you so much." Augustus went behind the counter and pushed the sleeves of his shirt up.
"I don't think it's going to help in the same way," Mara said, trying not to smile as he put the water on to boil.
