Page 8 of Practical Boots

She couldn't have been more than three or four; young enough that had she been fully of the World, she might not have remembered her mother at all, and at best, would have held a handful of hazy recollections.

Not so for a child of the Torn. Cat remembered so much of those early years, of her laughing, lively mother, whose vibrancy and quick-burning humanity made her seem vastly morealivethan those around her. When she left—when she disappeared—Cat's own personal world had become darker and much, much more confusing.

Her mother hadleft, according to her father. Simply left, without saying goodbye or wanting to bring Cat with her. Cat had known, even then, that her father didn't—couldn't—lie, but many years passed before she realized not lying didn't mean he told the whole truth.

Lilibeth Rose, daughter of the World, had whispered storiesofthe World to Cat, and promised they would someday go there together. That broken promise had become the foundation of Cat's life. Not that she had turned against her absent mother, or been brought closer to her cool, remote father after Lilibeth's disappearance, but it had left an empty certainty that the only person she could rely on was herself. And for all of that, she hadn't been wrong, but neither, exactly, was she right.

It was someone else's slip of the tongue that hinted at what had really happened.Banished, someone said, a word that ghosted by the edge of Cat's hearing. A word that had no meaning, at the time.Sent away, someone else said, anddo you remember how she screamed, before he put the sleep upon her. Phrases that meant nothing when they were spoken, but gradually put together a picture very unlike the one her father had painted for her. It had been, in the language of fairy tales, long and long and long again before Cat had understood.

Lilibeth Rose had notlefther daughter behind, norleftthe Torn at all, not willingly. She had been ejected by her lover, by Cat's father, and it had taken both might and magic to send her from her daughter's side. It was true that she hadn't said goodbye, or wanted to bring Cat with her, but it was true because her father had taken great pains to make sure shecouldn'tsay goodbye or want, in the moment, to bring her daughter with her.

It was known, in her father's part of the Torn, in the woodlands that he ruled over, that Lilibeth had been banished; it was also known that to suggest such a thing to the abandoned daughter would make an enemy of the father. No one cared about, or feared, earning Cat's enmity. And indeed, no one needed to, save the one person who would never lower himself to have such concerns.

Abandoning her to the Waste had been the greatest good her father had ever done for her. It had offered Cat a chance to find her mother again, and she seized on that with both hands.

But her mother's World was not the same one Cat had found her way to. Time separated them, and perhaps distance.Thatwas why she mapped the Waste, using her gifts sparingly in hopes of avoiding her father's notice, but trying to learn all she could in the moments she dared the in-between place. She'd charted leagues of pathways, learning to move reliably between some places. Knowing those paths allowed her to step off them and explore other locations, hoping she would find what she was looking for.

But she'd gotten careless. She'd gotten caught. And she had probably lost her mother forever, because of it. Her father would be able to trace her journeys through the Waste, now. He'd know if shesteppedsomewhere out of time; every trip she took through the Waste left contrails, faint paths that could be followed. Cat was certain that was how he'd bloody well caught her in the first place, by finding the paths that shone more brightly because she used them too much, like the one between New York and Los Angeles. It would be much, much easier for him to follow them now. If she somehow found her way across the space that separated her from her mother, he would know, and he would not be forgiving. He certainly hadn't banished Lilibeth just to allow Cat to find her again.

And there wasn't a single goddamn thing Cat could think to do about it.

* * *

"I've been looking for her for seven years now," Cat finally said. She didn't want to hear her own voice, but some things had to be said. "I've looked and looked, and I can't find my way to her. She might be too far away, Kal." She met Kallie’s gaze, finding empathetic sorrow in her friend’s eyes. "It's always changing, you know that, right? The Waste? It's always getting bigger. It might be that I missed her exit by one step, because the Waste changed under my feet while I walked. I don't know. And I don't want to give up."

Kallie held a horrid silence for a little too long, then prompted, "But?"

Cat shrugged roughly. "But I know where this kid is. And I know if I put myself between Dad and them, then at least somebody will be safe from him. I think…" She faltered and her shoulders drooped. "I think Mom would rather I protected an innocent kid than found her again. If it had to be one or the other. I think…I think that's what she would want."

Kallie sat back with an explosive scowl. "Well, yeah, I guess so, because unless you were a real asshole, that's what anybody would want. And from what you've said, your mom doesn't sound like she was an asshole."

A faint smile twisted Cat's mouth. "I could be wrong. It's not like I was an adult who could see her and her faults clearly when she left. But no, I don't think she was. And I don't want to be. I mean, my dadisan asshole, Kal. He's demonstrably the kind of person who would kidnap a freakingembryoand—"

"He kidnapped you, too," Kallie said in a soft voice.

Cat's heart clenched, lungs tightening until they seemed empty of air. She stared toward the human woman, her vision blurring as blood rushed in her ears and her face heated. Kallie's expression, so challenging a moment ago, was shockingly gentle now. "He did, Cat. Maybe not in a way we think of as a traditional kidnapping, but the truth is he stole you for himself."

"He…I…don't think of it that way."

"I know. But you're pretty much a picture-perfect changeling story, Cat. The human child taken from the mother to grow up a powerful figure in Fairyland?"

"I'm not human." Cat's vision wouldn't clear, and her voice sounded wrong. Too thin, almost remote, like it belonged to someone else.

"Not entirely, no, but you're also splitting hairs and you know it. Listen to me, Cat." Words rushed from Kallie like she'd been holding them in for a long, long time. "I don't know what he expected of you, or what he thought your mother might stop him from making you. A powerful asshole, probably. You think he didn't expect you to survive the Waste—"

"Practically nobody does."

"—but I think he must have believed you would. I'm sure he didn't expect you to bolt for the World instead of going back home to the Torn, though, so whatever he thought he was making of you, he failed. Instead of getting a pawn, he got a queen. You canliterallymove in any direction, Cat. I get that you've sworn an oath to him, but don't let him trick you into thinking you're trapped, okay?"

"Pretty sure I am." Cat could finally focus again, but moved her attention from Kallie's impassioned gaze to the pile of food on the table between them. After a long few minutes of looking at it, wondering if she wanted to eat and knowing she didn’t, she said, "Okay," much more quietly. She glanced up to find Kallie still watching her with concern. "Okay. I'll try to remember that."

"Good woman. Now get another one of your watches before you finish dinner. I don't want you out there without one and I don't know how your jackass dad will summon you, so no risk-taking, or else."

"What are you, my mother?" Cat rose to do as Kallie said, though, mostly because it gave her an excuse to move. It wasn't exactly running away, but it was better than sitting still with the thoughts Kallie had injected into her mind. The way Kallie interpreted Cat's life, the perception that she had been kidnapped, just as her half-sibling almost had been…hurt. She didn't want to deal with it. Not now. Ideally not ever.

And the other thought, the suggestion that she might be a queen, not a pawn, was maybe even more frightening, or upsetting, or—something. Cat wasn't even sure what word to use for it. She wanted to dismiss the whole idea.

Shecouldhave dismissed it, if it hadn't been so apt. A queen, able to move in any direction.

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