Page 71 of Shadows of Perl

“There’s no need for that, Irish wolfhounds are complete pushovers,” Beaulah says. “Please sit. I’ve asked Della to have my personal Healer visit you tomorrow, after you’ve had some rest, to make sure you are truly alright.”

I hesitate, unsure how to respond. I was expecting her to greet me with anger…But the lines carved into her expression are relief, not irritation. I may have been wrong to judge her so harshly.

I sit on the edge of the bed, the last hours whirring like a hurricane in my head. And now I’m back here, no closer to finding my mother than I was before. I pull a blanket over my legs and resist the urge to curl into a ball. Maybe Charlie missed her. Abby said she didn’t see her either, but how can I trust anything she’s told me now? The more I ponder, the more I spiral. And I realize Beaulah’s still staring at me.

“Did you find her?” She strokes her pet.

“What?”

“At the Veil of Mums. You were so determined to get there, it wasn’t hard to figure out what you must have been after.” She holds up the stack of invitations that I left under my mattress. “A little digging confirmed my suspicion.” She crosses her legs. “Was she there?”

“You’re smart enough to know the answer to that question.”

“Quell, I want to keep you safe.”

“I told you, I don’t need you to protect me.” I get up from the bed, kick off my shoes, and remove my earrings and bracelet at the vanity. But the necklace won’t unhook.

“Don’t you, though?” She rises from her chair and gestures for me to turn. She works at the hook of my necklace. “Had I not sent Charlie, would you have gotten out of there unscathed, without making a mess of things?” She sighs. “Quell, I knew your plan before you left. And I admit I was upset by it. Because it tells me that you still do not understand that I wish you no harm.”

“Not wishing me harm isn’t the same as wishing me help.”

“How have I refused to help you?”

“You’re keeping details from me about my mother’s time here.”

“I am just focused on what really matters. You’re at a critical stage of development.”

She isn’t going to convince me that reuniting with my mother is a bad idea. “Tell me about the day she left again. Did she even hint at where she might be going?”

“There’s not much to tell. I was traveling.” She circles me. “Your focus on your magic right now is a much better use of your time. The first several months after binding with toushana are vitally important if you’re to reach your full potential.”

My full potential. My whole life, I’ve only been a girl with the wrong kind of magic. Beaulah sees something in me beyond who I was, or who I am now—some fugitive in hiding. And the thought unsteadies me.

Everyone focuses on my toushana. Yagrin wanted me to train. Adola can’t separate who I am from what I can do. Beaulah wants me reading her old books. My mother wants me to live as if I don’t exist at all. But what if I want to be more than my magic?

The truth cuts: I am my toushana and I always will be. And I’ve been trying to separate it from who I am, trying to be something else.

Beaulah pulls out the vanity’s cushioned seat. “If I may?”

I sit, and her dog finally settles on its paws and lies down. She takes my hair down and pulls a wide comb through it. Her gentleness surprises me. Perhaps Beaulah is more misunderstood than anything.

“You’re distracted.”

“I’ve never been more sure of what I really want in my entire life.” My mom and I, back together.

“That’s what you tell yourself. But it’s obvious you haven’t even taken a moment to consider what you want from life, Quell. Who you are.” She parts my hair into three pieces and starts braiding it.

“You mean a Darkbearer.”

“That label has such a negative connotation. But yes, Darkbearers embraced their dark magic. And lived in full command of it. That didn’t make them evil. Why did you bind with your toushana, Quell?”

“Because I wasn’t willing to erase part of who I am.”

“And what was your plan after that? You find your mother and then what?”

A house near the beach. A life away from this madness, from the Order, from magic. My stomach twists. But is that what I really want? To have my magic but keep it in a box as I have been? To leave this world of possibility behind? I hated wearing that fake diadem tonight. I hated the way I had to walk into that ball as someone else to survive.

I refused to live a life at my grandmother’s without my toushana.

---