Page 16 of Keldori By Daybreak

“I would never.”

Pain blossomed in my side, and I jerked away from Sorcha’s touch.“What the hell, Sorcha!”

“Oh, stop.”

“You needed me?” Aoife crowded into the kitchen. Her gray hair frizzed and frayed, escaping from the disheveled braid she kept wrapped around her head like a crown.

“No, I need Eliza.”

Apprehension mounted in my gut. While I missed my mom so badly it hurt, the version of her I missed was the one I didn’t know was a Magician. I wanted the mom who hadn’t lied to me about Skalterra.

When I’d seen her Nightmare a week ago, I got the feeling she felt the same about me. There was a new, unwelcome awkwardness between us, as relieved as we’d been to see each other.

Or maybe it was all in my head, and I was just projecting after discovering she’d spent my life reaching out to my father, inviting him to events and graduations only for him to say no every time. She still didn’t know I’d met him the night before the Rift opened.

Sorcha’s hands burned hotter, and her matrix shifted and expanded within my ribs, bridging the cracks my volatile magick and Sabrina’s rough training had left in the bones.

“Remember to breathe, Blue.”

I glared at Ciarán, and he stepped around Aoife to return to the hall to deliver more soup.

“Eliza is going to be annoyed I’m calling her,” Aoife said, but she took a sip of Skal from the bottle on her belt, and her outstretched hand glowed orange. “You know she hates leaving the harbor unattended.”

Dust rattled across the cobbled floor to pool itself at her feet, swirling and expanding until it stood a proud five feet tall. Legs, torso, arms, and head took shape, and long, blonde hair fell over slight shoulders.

“Make it quick, Aoife,” the Nightmare said as she settled into her magick-formed body. She wore her favorite bathrobe and slippers, which made sense, as this was her idealized version of herself. “I need to watch the harbor.”

“Oh, it’ll be quicker than you like, I think,” Sorcha warned. “Things are getting complicated.”

“More complicated than my mother sitting on the top of the Rift, trapped in a storm? That smells amazing. Is that you, Siobhan?” The Nightmare blinked, adjusting to the flickering firelight as she peered around the kitchen. Her eyes locked with mine before flitting to Sorcha’s hands pressed against my bruises. “What’s wrong with Wren? Wren, is it your ribs? Your ulcers? Sorcha, her ulcers. How are they?”

“I’m okay, Mom.” I wanted to look away from my mother’s Nightmare form but was transfixed. Having now seen Gams’s younger self, the similarities in their appearance was disarming.

Sorcha pulled my tunic back into place and straightened up to face Mom. “Your daughter will live. It’s your mother I’m calling you about. Apparently she and her friends rigged the local volcanoes to blow and reseal the Rift if it were ever opened.”

Mom threw back her head as she laughed.

“That’s ridiculous,” she said when her guffaws subsided. “Why would you think that?”

Sorcha made a sweeping gesture in my direction, and the mirth in Mom’s eyes died.

“Gams told me,” I said. “She summoned me as a Nightmare last night and—”

“You were just dreaming.” Mom shook her head. “She would’ve told me about the volcanoes if it were true.”

“I know the difference between a dream and being called as a Nightmare,” I said quietly.

Mom stared at me through narrowed eyes, and I wondered what could possibly be going through her head. She’d been similarly stoic a week ago when I’d told her about my misadventures in Skalterra.

“Then we go through the storm and reseal my mother,” Mom finally said. “It’s the only option.”

“It’s not an option at all,” Sorcha tutted. “Soldiers from Breachriver and the Shogunate passed through earlier, all on their way to the Rift, and there’s sure to be more on the way.”

“What’s a bit of extra traffic?” Mom turned away to stare through the double-side hearth and watch the shifting silhouettes through the flames.

“We already can’t get through two armies and your mother’s storm,” Sorcha continued. “More armies will only make it more difficult.”

“You’ll have to find a way if the alternative is volcanoes,” Mom scoffed.