"Noreena? Honey?" My mother's hand landed on my shoulder and I tensed, not having noticed her approaching footfalls.
Finally looking around, I could see that the clearing was untended but not destroyed. The beauty on the surface had been peeled away to embrace what lie within like an onion peeled of layers to reach its core. It was amazing. Baffling. Conflicting.
Was this a lesson?
Was I supposed to learn from some mistake here?
Allowing my fears to rule me was giving away a piece of me: my control. Facing what frightened me gave away something different: my guilt. That was worth more.
"Hey, Nora," my mother whispered, and I finally turned around to face her.
Our gazes met. The emotional dam I'd kept at bay for four years broke. She wrapped me in her arms and smoothed my hair away from my face. The pain streaked down my cheeks to soak the front of her shirt. We sat where we stood while she held me until the sobs withered and faded.
"What are you doing here, Mom?" I finally sniffed and pulled away.
There was no way that I would be able to explain this away. What mother doesn't want to know why their child is fractured?
"I've always jogged here," she said and leaned back in the grass to rest her weight on her elbows. She stretched her legs in front of her, crossing them at her ankles, and tipped her head up so that the sun haloed her head.
For the first time, it dawned on me that the rays of light were penetrating the shadows of the clearing, no longer protected by the overhanging branches that had always cooled. The fire had disintegrated them.
"Jogging? You jog now?"
"For years."
"Years?" I gulped. "So, you know? Why didn't you...?"
"Why didn't you?" She arched her eyebrow, still staring up at the sky. "I'm not psychic, but I don't need to be able to read your mind to know that something happened out here. I just don't know what that something is."
"It's nothing."
"I don't believe that." She sat up. "You don't have to tell me."
I stared at her in wonder. How could she not want me to tell her what had happened? It would be so much easier if she demanded me to tell her the truth; otherwise, I wouldn't be able to. "You've known for four years and haven't said anything?"
"I told you I don't know what happened."
"Just that something happened."
"Yes." She nodded and then cocked her head to the side to look at me. "Do you want to tell me?"
"No." I shook my head and looked around.
"Okay." She leaned back again and neither of us spoke while she closed her eyes.
Finally, the silence that settled as she didn't elaborate grated on my nerves, prompting me to start talking again. I looked down and ran my fingers through the overgrown, lush green grass beside me. "Mom, have you ever done something that you regret? Like, something you wish you hadn't thought to try in the first place?"
"Who hasn't?" She laughed. "That's life for you."
"What about magic? Have you ever done something that went wrong with magic?"
"Sure, Noreena, nobody's perfect."
"Doesn't that scare you? To know that your abilities can get out of control?"
"Is this why you want to remain bound?" She opened one eye to appraise me and paused before asking, "Are you afraid of your abilities?"
"Aren't you?"
"I'm not afraid of your abilities." She reached out and tucked my hair behind my ear. "Four years is a long time, you know, and you've learned a lot since then."
"That's book learning."
"Knowledge is power, Nora. Every lesson I've ever given you has been towards that purpose. Do you think I enjoyed teaching you all that I have? There are things about the Craft I detest, but I am stronger for having learned about them, no matter how archaic and useless they seemed."
"So, you taught me things you hate because you think it'll make me stronger when I'm unbound?"
"Well, yes," she said and laughed, rolling her eyes. "I also taught you things that I love and that which I wished someone had taught me."
"Like what?"
"There was a lot that I had to learn alone the hard way."
"Like?"
"Like people sensing your powers, being able to mask your magical signature," she rambled and waved her hands. "I'm not prepared to list it all for you now, but what I haven't shown you, I've explained so you'll never forget."
"Uh, Mom, I hate to tell you this, but I—I've forgotten a lot."
She smiled and I felt confused. Had my mother gone mental? If I hadn't spent the morning thrust back in memory, I'd have never noticed how much my mother had truly aged over the last four years. It had been so gradual, undetectable to the daily observer.
Had Zach seen what was happening?
She was skinnier now, almost skeletal. Her skin no longer glowed. Laugh lines were now replaced with worry. There were signs of responsibility and burden etched in deep crevices across her brow and around her eyes. This woman wasn't weak but seemed frail, her body betraying her will. She was still powerful and full of grace, but she'd lost the ability to make everything she did look easy. It was more like the mere act of climbing out of bed each morning had become a chore, and everything else was just... hard.
"You will have it when you need it," she said, and I switched my focus back to what she was saying.
"How is that?"
"I can't tell you that, but I promise that it won't be a secret much longer."
"Uh-huh," I mumbled. "And to you, a long time might very well be forever. You and Zach are worse than the girls at my school, always running off and keeping secrets."
She cocked her head to the side and studied me. "When you are unbound and have accepted your abilities, you'll learn everything you need to know. There'll be no more secrets then."
"Whatever." I stood and started kicking the ground where the fire had started, the only area that bore any resemblance to the charred remains I'd thought I'd left behind. It was a calming reminder that there were more important things than secrecy and the curiosity it produced.
"Do you feel like telling me what happened now?"
"There's nothing to talk about, Mom." Except for the fact that I killed the clearing. Years from now, I imagined that I would both love and hate this day, for I would remember that the clearing had thrived with beauty but that the last four years had caused me unsubstantiated pain. All of it was my own doing.
"You asked me if my power had ever been uncontrollable. Do you still want to know?"
I sat back down and nodded. Maybe not everything would be secret after all.
"No."
"No? What?" I slumped like a popped balloon. "Why would you ask me if I wanted to know if you aren't—?"
"I mean, no, they haven't made me feel that way. They've never scared me." She watched me, but I couldn't form an intelligent response. "I am guessing that yours have. You tried to use them?"
"Just a little." I bit my bottom lip between my teeth. "They were out of control."
"How many times have you tried using them?"
"Twice? Maybe three times, if you include using it to stop what happened the second time," I conceded and sighed, not willing to tell her about what happened in the flower garden. In my mind, it didn't count. "The first time doesn't count because nothing happened."
"How old were you the first time?"
"Nine or ten, I think. Why?"
"At nine or ten, your powers are there, yet unavailable. You need to mature to a certain point before you'll be able to tap into your powers, find your trigger to activate it. Most of the time, this happens near the end of high school or the beginning of college."
"I've been unbinding myself for years, Mom."
"Never while you were aware of it," she said. "You've always done it during your sleep, except for that one time it happened when you broke your hand, but I think that was triggered by the pain."
"But I used magic four years ago and I was only thirteen."
"You never should have been able to do that, Noreena. It just... isn't done. Ever. Not by anyone."
"According to your first Book of Shadows, you used your powers when you were what? Eight? So why shouldn't I be able to do it at thirteen?"
She exhaled and dragged her hand through her hair. "That was because of the circumstances, and I was nine."
"Big whoop." I rolled my eyes. "Why can you do it, but I can't? Because we both know that I did."
"It was because of where I was, Nora. I never could've done whatever you did when I was thirteen. I couldn't even do it at seventeen," she elaborated but looked like she wanted me to change the subject.
"So why couldn't I control them?"
"I've never heard of a thirteen-year-old using their magic unassisted, but both your father and I come from the most powerful families within the community. Your lineage is strong, and I think you've inherited a special blend of us both. Our essence fused with your own makes you powerful beyond either of us.
"Only your children will be more powerful than you, and only then if you marry someone ranking high in power. Procreating with someone of lesser power will detract from your child's potential and counteract your own essence within them, making them weaker."
"Is that why you only stayed with my father long enough to get pregnant?"
"Noreena, that's immoral." She sucked in a breath and flinched as though I'd slapped her. "I loved your father when we married."
"Why did you leave him if you loved him?"
"One day—not today—I'll explain why I left your father. In short, I just found out I was pregnant, my parents were gone—murdered in their own home—and I did what I did to protect you," she told me. "I may be divorced by human standards, but we were bound in a handfasting ritual. To me, that is sacred, and something that you don't tarnish with another unless you've been separated by death."
"Even if you guys aren't together?"
"It's against my beliefs. Maybe one day you'll understand them."
"I've tried," I defended. "How does any of this relate to why you think my powers were out of control?"
"This explains the power within you." She sighed. "The rest is more or less an educated guess on my part. After years of binding you, I think I know your powers enough for it to be accurate."