I liked to think I could make just about anything if given a clear recipe. I generally knew my way around a knife and stoves hadn't scared me since I was five. And that had been more about the sound they made than about the flames.

I wondered if other people thought my lack of fear around fire was concerning.

I was helping Dad by chopping the vegetables. Mom wasn't technically banned from the kitchen, but all three of us preferred it when she stayed sitting on the other side of the counter. Her elbows rested on the granite and her face rested in her hands.

I kept my eyes on the carrots in front of me on the cutting board. "So…Mom. There's something I've been thinking about and I want your opinion."

With a tone that was trying way too hard to sound casual she responded, "Anything. What's on your mind Serafina?"

I was hyper aware of Dad behind me. Stirring the pot of stock and picking out the chicken bones. The smell of rosemary lingered in the air.

"I want to learn healing magic." I explained, "Self-healing." I hoped she didn't ask why. If I was lucky, which I generally wasn't, she'd assume it was curse related.

Mom was quiet for a moment. Prompting me to look up at her once the carrots were all in bite-sized pieces. I set my knife down on the board, blade facing away from me.

Her hands had dropped, laying flat on the counter and her head perked up as she stared at me. Those golden eyes seemed to see right through me. Like she was some kind of sphinx trying to figure out what riddle to test me with.

But I must have passed her test.

She smiled, a bright beaming thing that was genuine. "Of course!"

Something unwound in my chest. A tightness I hadn't fully noticed. She wasn't pushing for answers, which I didn't know how to give without lying to her. And I was not good enough at lying to her to not get caught.

"Is it safe for you to be practicing magic? With that curse and all?" Dad asked behind me.

"We'll be careful. And we just have to time our training right," Mom said with a wink. Like I was in on whatever she was talking about.

I picked the knife back up and started chopping the celery. Larger pieces than the carrots, but still small enough for soup. Fingers tucked inwards, blade angled away from hand, steady movements.

"I was a little worried you would ask for a spell you weren't ready for."

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I wondered if she had a specific spell in mind. "Like Fae Fire?" I prompted, just to see if my guess was close.

"Something like that." A near perfect confirmation.

"You said that spell was beyond me," I explained. Both to her and to Dad. "And I passed out both times I tried it so it's hard to argue against that point." All of which was true, but it wasn't the reason I'd asked about self-healing. I didn't know if Red meant to plant the idea, but it was there now.

"It absolutely is. Hells, it would be beyond you even if you'd been practicing magic since you were five. I couldn't do it at your age."

"And you were some kind of prodigy," I mumbled as I set the knife down again. Looking up at her just in time to see the wince.

"You weren't supposed to find out about that."

"Apparently teleporting three thousand miles in a single go in unheard of for everyone else."

She had that look on her face. The one where she clearly wanted to swear but was minding her language around me. I don't know why she was bothering now.

"I take my eyes off you and you find out all my secrets," Mom complained.

"You could have said no and not sent me there."

"But you wanted to go, and you looked so sad after the expulsion I couldn't say no."

That was a lie. Not an outright one, but she was doing the thing where she used a different related fact to dodge answering my question, or accusation in this case.

But how to call her out on it? Play along? Ask a different question?

"I'd have gotten over it," I said once I settled on my strategy. "But I'm glad to be going there."

"That's good. It was a lot of work to get you ready."

Or as close to ready as I could be without magic. Mom couldn't have known that sending me there would wake up my ability to cast.

So what did she expect to happen?

Mom's grin went from genuine to forced with a bit of panic. She knew I'd caught her lie. The fake innocence she tried to portray was a dead giveaway that something was up.

I rolled my eyes. A cue that I saw through her, but didn't want to make a thing out of it. I wasn't in the mood for a fight or a verbal runaround.

The false innocent smile was swapped for something softer and genuine. Something closer to an apology.

Dad came up behind me and grabbed the bowl of chopped celery and carrots. Mom winked at him.

I ignored it, for my own sanity.

"Anything else you need Dad?" I asked instead.

He glanced between Mom and me. Probably judging if saying anything about what he definitely heard was a good idea.

"We're good. Actually I wanted to ask you something."

"What's up?"

"Think you'll be up for a trail this weekend?" He asked.

"Yes please," I told him.

"You two have fun," Mom was grinning again. But it was genuine enough that if she was planning something it probably wasn't a big deal.

I would have to make a snack mix. That was always fun. "Did you have a trail already picked?"

Dad let out an amused huff. But that was fine, it meant I got something I desperately needed without having to ask.

(*********)

That night was quiet and calm. There was a light chill from the window next to my bed. The weight of my favorite blanket resting around me. It was too cloudy for light, not that we got nearly the same amounts as back at school. But it was familiar and comfortable. My favorite way to drift off to dreamland.

An abandoned warehouse. In full color. Dark grey bricks mingled with light brown ones on the walls. The floor was black with flecks of yellow light. Boxes and crates made of an overly saturated red wood. They stood tall in stacks that towered up above me. All sizes too. Something pink glowed on the tallest stack of boxes.

The boxes weren't nearly as intimidating as rock walls, and my curiosity wasn't deterred by them. So I began to climb. The boxes were covered in some kind of dust that lingered on my hands, staining them a strange red color. The lower boxes were smaller, they got bigger and bigger as I climbed up.

As I got to the last box, my last obstacle between me and that mysterious pink light, the box beneath my feet crumbled, causing me to fall into an endless void.

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