"Would you like to come with me to work today?"
My head whipped up to stare at my mother. "What?"
She repeated her question, but I was still confused. "I thought that I wasn't allowed to enter the village."
Mother smiled brightly. "Smitta Farlin has said that everyone is welcome in our village."
I stared at my mother for a moment. I couldn't tell if she was joking or not. "I don't think that includes me," I finally said.
She took a deep breath, looking as if I was making things difficult for her on purpose. "Things are different now, T'phani. Smitta Farlin is helping to change the hearts of everyone in the village."
I rolled my eyes. "You don't really believe that, do you?"
Mother pressed her lips in a thin line. "Is it so wrong to believe that people can change?"
"Oh, they can change," I muttered. "Think of how quickly they threw you out when I was born."
"Theophana!"
I jumped at the sharp tone of her voice. I felt a twinge of guilt from my harsh words, but I was tired of her pretending that everything was fine now. "Mother, I'm glad that you are able to go work in the village, but that doesn't change anything. All it means is that there's work to be done and they don't care if you do it."
She shook her head. "You haven't seen what it's like now," she insisted. "You've just been here, reading your lessons. You don't know how kind everyone has been to me."
"Yes, to you," I emphasized. "Because I'm not with you. They can pretend that I don't exist as long as you are doing the work that they don't want to."
Mother crossed her arms tightly over her chest. I could see that she was upset. She wanted so much for her life to be like it once was, and I was telling her that it was all a lie.
"Come with me today," she insisted, her jaw set. "You'll see that I'm right."
I was starting to feel upset, myself. "I don't want to."
"Don't be obstinate, T'phani," she scolded. "There is lots of work to be done, and you should learn to help."
My mouth worked silently for a moment before I could find my words. "You were the one who said I had to stay home and focus on my studies."
"Well, now I'm saying to come help earn our living," she retorted.
My thoughts immediately turned to Budding, who would be waiting for me. "I…I can't! I have things to do."
Mother scoffed. "What things? It's just learning history and sums. You can do that later."
Her eyes had a steely glint to them, which usually meant that she had put her foot down. Unfortunately, I was also unable to budge on this matter.
"I don't want to," I fumbled. "Also, we promised Chief Westerly that I wouldn't go into the village. He'll kick us out of this house if he finds out."
"Your grandfather has even been letting me do work at their home," Mother announced impressively. "He may not have said so, but he's forgiven us enough to let the past go."
My eyes widened. "You've been working at his house?"
She busied herself making the bed. "Yes," she answered with less confidence, "on the property."
I rolled my eyes. They were probably having her wash laundry or tidy the garden rather than enter the house itself.
"Even so, I'm not going," I retorted.
Mother's voice began to grow louder. "This isn't a discussion."
"Why do I have to go with you?" I demanded. "You won't get paid more with me there, but you know that they'll give you more work to do. The people in the village don't want to see me, and I don't want to see them either."
"Why are you being so stubborn?" Mother exclaimed.
I jabbed my finger in the direction of the mountain forest. "Because I have lessons to go to instead of wasting my time around people who hate me!"
She stopped and stared at me. "What do you mean?"
I made an exasperated noise. "It's not a surprise, Mother. Everyone knows that they hate me."
She shook her head. "No, the other part. You aren't studying at home?"
I froze. "Oh."
"Where have you been going?"
I smoothed the legs of the linen trousers I was wearing that morning. "I've been going to our old home."
Her brow furrowed. "You've been walking to the forest every day? That doesn't seem safe. And why would you carry your books so far?"
My eyes darted around the room. "It's not very far. Why wouldn't it be safe?"
"There are rumors of dangerous creatures on the outskirts of the village," my mother said as if it were obvious. "I don't want you going there anymore."
I waved a hand dismissively. "That's just Shin. He's harmless."
Time seemed to stop for a moment as we stared at each other. I silently cursed my careless mouth.
"Shin?" she asked quietly. "Who is Shin?"
"He…" My mind scrambled for a plausible answer but drew a blank.
"Theophana," Mother said in a low voice, "what have you been doing while I'm gone?"
"Just…my lessons," I answered weakly.
She marched into the living room and snatched up one of the school books that had belonged to my great-aunt. Then she returned to the bedroom, flipping open to a random page.
"Tell me about the Hillan Insurgence," Mother commanded.
I rubbed my hands together uncomfortably. "I haven't learned about that yet."
She snapped the book shut. "You said you had."
"When?"
"At the very beginning," Mother responded icily. "I suggested it to you because Aunt Theophana experienced it personally and she wrote notes in the margins of the account. I said you'd find it interesting, and later you said that it was the best story you'd ever read."
I felt my heart sink into my stomach. "I did?"
She pointed the book at me. "What have you been doing since I started working in the village? Have you been wasting your time playing in the forest?"
"No," I defended. "I wasn't wasting time. I was-"
I cut myself off sharply.
"What?" Mother snapped. "What have you been doing?"
I couldn't mention my lessons with Budding. My mother would skin me alive! I strained to think of an acceptable excuse—any excuse—for why I'd spend each day on the small mountain, but my creativity betrayed me.
"Never mind," I backtracked. "You're right, I've just been playing."
Her eyes narrowed. "You know I don't like it when you lie," she warned.
My situation was precarious and I knew it. No matter what I said, I wouldn't be making it to my lesson that day. Mother was determined to get to the bottom of it. She wouldn't let me go unless I told the truth, and I wouldn't be allowed to go once she learned the truth.
I closed my eyes, preparing for the storm. "I've been meeting Budding to learn about magic."
Silence.
No tirade of angry words, no strong fingers pinching my ear. It didn't even sound like she was breathing.
The quiet stretched out so long that I opened my eyes to see what was happening. Mother stood rigid as a statue. Her hands were clenched into fists, pressing on the sides of her thighs. She was ghostly pale, staring at me with blazing eyes.
I'd never seen her that angry before.
With great effort, she wrestled her feelings under control. She spoke as if squeezing every word through a laundry wringer. "Am I to understand that you've been spending all of your time with the people who are causing harm to the villagers?"
I hurriedly shook my head. "No, they haven't hurt anyone! Shin says that sometimes people are frightened, but he never hurts them."
"Who is Shin?" she barked as her emotions slipped.
I cringed at my mistake. Why had I mentioned him again?
"He's a…kag…" I murmured.
Mother clutched the front of her dress. "A kag? Here?"
"It's not like the stories," I rushed to insist. "They aren't bad!"
"They feed on humans," she exclaimed. "Are you saying that they're good?"
"No, they-"
"What is Budding doing about this?" Mother cut me off. "How could she let a kag come here?"
"It's not like they're enemies," I tried to explain.
My mother wasn't listening to me. "Tiernan are guardian spirits," she drove on. "How could she allow danger to be so close to the village?"
I laughed incredulously, causing her to stop and stare. "Mother, tiernan aren't guardians of humans. It's not their responsibility to protect you."
"Us!"
The word was so sudden and forceful that it made me jump. I looked at my mother in confusion at her outburst.
"Us," she repeated. "We are humans, you and I. You are not separate from the village, Theophana. If there is a danger for them, there is also a danger for you."
"But there isn't danger," I insisted. "Shin doesn't hurt anyone!"
She lifted a hand to stop my words. "You can't know the intentions of that creature's heart. You may not understand this now, but there are good beings in this world and there are evil ones-"
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Is that what that Smitta has been teaching?"
Mother set her jaw and crossed her arms. "It's a simple fact, whether you want to hear it or not."
I threw my hands in the air. "You can't say that an entire species is fully good or evil," I argued. "You're the one who taught me that."
"I know," she acknowledged, "but some are more harmful. I wouldn't want you to befriend a tiger, and I certainly don't want you befriending a kag."
"I hardly see him," I yelled. "He's busy teaching Tsuki. I spend most of my time with Budding, and you can't tell me that she's someone to fear!"
Mother made a sharp motion. "She may not be dangerous, but what she's teaching you is."
"What are you talking about?" I howled.
She matched my tone. "The more you distance yourself from humankind, the more you put yourself at risk!"
I gaped at her. "What?"
Tears started to well up in her eyes. She spoke with a shaking voice that was trying to be firm. "I am working so hard to earn our place in the village, Tiff. I want them to see us as belonging. How can I do that when you are going to the forest every day to learn magic?"
I felt my insides deflate. "I'm not…I don't deny that I'm human, but I'm also tiernan. How can it be wrong to learn about both parts of me?"
"You can learn about something without being immersed in it," she pointed out.
I wanted to laugh, even though I wasn't amused. "How?"
Mother sat down on the edge of the bed. "There are books you can read. Also, Smitta Farlin knows quite a bit about the magical community. He could teach you if you ask."
My expression became incredulous. "You want me to learn about tiernan from Smitta Farlin instead of Budding?"
She closed her eyes briefly. "All I mean is that you have other resources. You don't have to run wild in the mountains in order to learn about the creatures that live there."
I knelt in front of her, clasping my hands on her knee. "I don't want to learn from books. I want to see for myself."
Mother's lips pressed together as she smoothed my hair. "You are still young, T'phani. You don't fully understand the weight of the choices you are making right now. You need to trust that I'm doing what's best for you."
"But, Mother-"
"We are done talking," she cut me off. "You will not go to any more lessons with Budding. You'll stay with me and help with my work. We can finish faster by working together, then I'll help you with your studies in the evening."
My eyes widened. "No more lessons with Budding? Ever?"
"Ever," Mother confirmed. "I don't want you leaving the house unless I'm with you."
"Why are you doing this?" I exploded. "How could you be like them?"
She had to raise her voice to be heard over me. "I'm doing this to protect you!"
"No, you're not," I shouted. "You're just being stupid and hateful, just like everyone else in that horrible village!"
Mother slapped me.
I was stunned. It wasn't the first time that I'd been slapped, but it had been a long time since she'd done it. Tears overflowed from my eyes, running down my cheeks in wavering lines. In the past, I'd always eventually understood why I was being punished—and I'd usually acknowledge that it was right—but I didn't think that would happen this time. I knew I wasn't wrong this time.
There was a hint of regret on Mother's face, but she squared her shoulders and spoke with conviction. "I should blame myself," she nodded. "I didn't teach you compassion and forgiveness. I should've helped you to understand that good people will still sometimes act out of fear. I should've taught you to love our neighbors instead of viewing them with disdain."
"You didn't teach me that," I muttered. "They earned it on their own."
Mother raised her hand as if to slap me again, but she stopped herself. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "It's not too late for you to learn," she said, mostly to herself. "I'll help you to love and forgive."
Not likely, I retorted silently.
She walked over to the chest where we kept our clothes and pulled out a simple work dress. It was made of gray linen but had a brown apron attached to the front. "Put this on and braid your hair. You'll spend the day with me."
I desperately wanted to argue, but there was nothing left to say. Mother would keep me by her side, even if she had to use a rope to tie me there.
I did as I was told, grinding my teeth as I went. Getting dressed was a simple matter, but braiding my hair was a chore. Mother eventually grew weary of watching me struggle and took matters into her own hands.
I flinched as she mercilessly combed the tangles from my wild locks and plaited them into submission. "For today, just follow me quietly and do what I tell you," she instructed. "Don't draw attention to yourself."
I was tempted to make a sarcastic comment about how it wouldn't be a problem since everyone was welcome in the village. I clenched my jaw tighter to stop the words.
She tapped my head. "Did you hear me?"
"Yes, Mother."
"I promise nothing bad will happen to you," she finished softly.
I nodded, but I knew that was a promise she couldn't keep. She'd never been able to in the past, and she never would in the future.