Steadfast(63)

It was amazing, the things you could make yourself forget.

She double-checked the address as she walked along the street. Stupid, she told herself. It wasn’t like she hadn’t memorized this from the moment she’d first seen it. But her hands had started trembling, and despite the cold, sweat made her skin sticky beneath her thick coat and socks.

What else can Mom do to you? Nadia told herself savagely. How could this get any worse than it already is?

The apartment building was a nice one, but there was no doorman, and Nadia was able to slip in as someone else was walking out. As the aged elevator shuddered its way upstairs, Nadia clenched her fists, spread her fingers, clenched them again. She was ready for this. She had to be.

Finally she stood at her mother’s door. Only then did it occur to Nadia that Mom might not even be home; despite the ample settlement Dad had paid out in the divorce, she might have taken a job. Or just gone out, to shop or visit the Art Institute, something like that. Her mother had a life now, a life that didn’t include her at all. Nadia hadn’t thought of it because she couldn’t imagine it. Their lives still had that jagged hole torn in the center, the place where she had been. Maybe Mom had moved on.

But she still knocked on the door.

Mom answered it.

They stood staring at each other for a long moment. Nadia didn’t feel as though she could speak. All she could think was that Mom looked awful—even haggard. Her soft brown hair, which she used to always wear braided back in complicated, impractical, romantic styles, now hung lank around her face. She’d lost weight, though she’d been thin to start with. Instead of one of her rich cowl-neck sweaters in plum or rust or gold, she wore a plain T-shirt that didn’t look very clean. Even though this was the first time she’d seen her daughter in more than half a year, her mother’s face showed no reaction save a great tiredness.

Finally Mom said, “You shouldn’t have this address.”

“Don’t blame Dad. I snooped through his things.”

That should have earned her a scolding at minimum, but Mom merely shrugged. “I suppose it was inevitable. What do you want?”

What do I want? What do I want? For you to explain yourself, you worthless, miserable, hateful—

Somehow Nadia held back the angry words. “I want to know why a Sorceress says you traded me away.”

“Dammit.” Mom ran one hand through her hair. “A Sorceress?”

“Her name’s Elizabeth Pike. She happens to be in the same town we moved to—in Rhode Island—” Did Mom even know that much, or care?

“Happens to be? There’s no ‘happens to be’ about it.” Her mother sighed and stepped into her apartment. “You might as well come in. I’m only going to explain this once, and it’s going to take awhile.”

The apartment was nothing like Nadia would have expected. Mom loved color and texture, making things beautiful; she always spent enough on decorating and redecorating their condo that Dad sometimes got annoyed. But this space was bare and joyless. The furniture seemed to have been purchased from secondhand shops almost at random, because nothing matched, and while everything was in good condition, none of it seemed pretty or even cozy. Her walls were bare, the floor uncarpeted. Her witchcraft materials lay out in the open; apparently her mom didn’t expect anyone to come in, ever.

It was strange not even to feel comfortable taking a seat. Nadia had been more at ease in a doctor’s office.

For her part, Mom didn’t seem to care whether Nadia sat or stood. She made herself comfortable on the sofa, hardly even glancing at her daughter. “It’s no coincidence that you’ve been confronted with a Sorceress. The One Beneath has more influence in the mortal world than we’d like to think. Probably He . . . aligned the forces. Smoothed the way. Made it more likely your father would wind up there, dragging you along.”

“I was brought to Captive’s Sound? On purpose?”

“You’ve been put in the way of temptation. I expect they’re tempting you now; that’s the only thing that would bring you here.”

“I’m not tempted,” Nadia insisted.

“They’ve offered you power, though, haven’t they?”

Nadia’s temper snapped. “They offered to teach me. I don’t have anyone else, not now that you abandoned our whole family. You know that. I won’t ever turn to Elizabeth—never. But it would be nice if I could actually learn everything I need to know about witchcraft. You walked off without thinking about that, didn’t you? Left me half-trained, forever. Do you have any idea how much that sucks? No, you don’t. Mom, do you even know that Cole has nightmares, all the time, and Dad—he doesn’t—”

“Stop this,” Mom said. “No, Nadia, I didn’t know any of that. And I don’t care.”

It felt like rage could actually make her head explode. “You don’t care?”

Mom held up one hand. “You can scream at me pointlessly. Or you can get the answers you came for. Which do you want?”

Nadia took a deep breath, then another, then another. “Answers.”

“I broke one of the First Laws.”

So, she could still be shocked. She’d never thought her mother would do something like that—even after leaving her family. Yes, Nadia had broken one of the First Laws herself when she told Mateo about witchcraft, but that was different; she’d had to tell him when he became her Steadfast. “What—why did you—”