"Where have you been?" Mother demands as soon as I come inside. Already, she looks ten years younger, the red highlights vibrant in her auburn hair. Her skin, too, is blushed, no longer chalky.
I love my mother dearly. She's the only family I've ever known. A mention of my father would send her into tremor so I stopped asking. She never pestered me, never stood over my shoulder to make sure I was behaving. She would tell me what she expected and would express her disappointment if it wasn't. Her demand startles me, it's so unlike how she was.
"I was selling eggs at the market, Mother," I explain gently. "We still need coin. We lost a lot paying for doctors. I've been trying desperately to keep up so we don't lose the farm."
"Well, I hope you tried talking to men while you were there. Since you made a deal with a devil."
Her sharp tongue surprises me. It's so unlike her to rise to anger that suddenly. I shift my weight between both feet. "I did talk to a man," I try. "He invited me out to a party tonight, with a few others."
"Tonight?" She falters, glancing around the now clean room. The dishes are done and the floor is swept. It's the first time it's been clean in over a week. "Tonight's the full moon."
"No it's not," I lie. She's been comatose for months. How could she know?
"I can see the moon in the sky, Cara. And there's something in the air, something not right. Something dark."
"Mother, I think your illness has affected your brain. It's just a party." I go into the kitchen, pulling out dishes to prep for supper. "And besides, you're the one who said I needed to have a baby within a year. That means either this month or next. Possibly the one following next. How am I going to get pregnant if I don't socialize with the townsfolk?"
"Not tonight, you're not, Cara. I forbid it. I've been lenient in the past and look at where that's brought us. You owe a faery your firstborn. And now you want to go out on a full moon? Not under my roof."
"But--"
"No. The only person you have to blame is yourself. What were you thinking, making a deal with a faery? Didn't I raise you better than that?"
"I was going to lose you!" I cry. "Do you want me to be an orphan, lonely for the rest of my days?"
"You're twenty-four, Cara. Old enough to be married with children of your own. You wouldn't be alone if you had conversed with a few men years ago." She comes over to me, grabbing my face. "You're a beautiful young woman. A man should've already asked for your hand. Many women in town are married for a few years now."
"I've been tending the farm and maintaining your health, Mother." I jerk my face from her hands, going over to the pantry to grab some vegetables. "Do you remember how to make lamb stew?"
"Lamb? That's awful expensive."
I retrieve the lamb meat from the ice box. "I traded for it, don't worry. No coin was exchanged."
She bustles over, surveying the lamb. "A good chunk," she murmurs to herself. "I'll take care of the stew. But that will not change my mind. You're not going."
"Of course, Mother. I no longer wish to argue with you this evening. It has been too long since we've been able to interact properly."
I assist her with supper, reminding her on ingredients she's forgotten, and we don't speak of faery deals or illnesses. We joke as we did years ago, talking of everything and nothing at the same time. I inform her of most things that happened in town while she was sick, so we may share in the joke together. She laughs heartily, asking after a few people whom she remembers.
After supper, we wash the dishes together. By the time we're finished, the full moon is high in the night sky, casting the farm in a silvery glow. Silver, like Kailan's hair. My stomach twists. I don't even know where the faeries are, let alone how to find them.
Mother stands in the kitchen, smiling as she looks over the clean counters. I stand beside my bedroom door, watching her. I don't regret healing her. I don't regret using faery magic, or however Kailan healed her. I love her deeply, and I know she has more life to live, despite her insistence of being ready for Death. She may have been but she seems alive now.
I want to spend the entire night talking to her, but I can't. Not tonight. "I'm turning in," I tell her. "Try not to stay up too late." But I smile at her. I can't boss around my mother and she knows it.
"I won't, my child," she replies, sounding happy. "Oh, and Cara? I'm sorry about how I reacted earlier. I can't imagine the trouble you went through to care for me, and I do appreciate what you've done. I don't agree with the how, but I can understand the why. You're my daughter, my only child, and I regret never taking you to see the rest of the family. Perhaps we can make a day of it, in the future?"
"I would like that. Good night, Mother. I'll see you in the morning." Words I never thought I'd say again, and they sound so wonderful.
Mother smiles. "Good night, dear."
A rock settles into the pit of my stomach as I close my door. I've never liked lying to my mother but this one feels particularly vile. I open my window first and then put enough pressure on my bed so it squeaks, standing upright after a moment. I stay still, listening for Mother's movements.
She shuffles around the house for a while before I blessedly hear her own bedroom door shut. Her bed shifts, the strings pulling taut. Her gentle snoring soon sounds throughout the house.
Without thinking twice, I sneak out the window.