Spellcaster series #5: The Sage

Identity

TRISTAN

Heidi read the name card that Captain Bells had printed for me. She had to make me seem legitimate with my alias printed on it. A wry smile formed on her lips.

"Travis Easton?" Heidi asked, handing me back the card.

"It's easy to remember and it shares the same initials as my actual name." I pocketed it in my coat.

Heidi leaned against the kitchen counter while my mother stood beside her. They glanced at each other and snickered.

"What's wrong?" I asked, confused.

Heidi shook her head. "Nothing, you just don't seem like a Travis, that's all."

I stared questioningly.

My mother added, "She's quite right. Before your father and I settled with Tristan, I wanted to name you Timothy. But heaven knows how many Timothys there are already walking about."

I frowned. A toothy grin broke across Heidi's face.

"Yeah! You're more of a Timothy, or a Thomas."

I raised my eyebrows. "You're telling me I can't pull off a Travis?"

She went on, "Well, when you hear Travis, you think of a hot, tattooed drummer who walks around without a shirt on."

My mother agreed. I narrowed my eyes.

"Your imagination, Heidi, is absurdly detailed."

She blinked. "Imagination? That's actually a real—never mind."

I tilted my head and my mother tittered.

"Whatever it is," I said dismissively, "I'm only letting you know of my alias."

After breakfast, Heidi lifted Ada from her baby chair and brought her into her bedroom. I turned to my mother who bustled about the kitchen quietly as we cleaned. She couldn't eat, she told me, neither was she able to sleep. All she could think of was Ada's safety and Heidi's. She didn't admit it at first but I knew she was cross with me.

"The stakeout took longer than expected, mother," I explained to her. Or at least tried to.

My mother washed the dishes while I dried them. She kept her gaze onto the sink like she couldn't look at me. I noticed the wrinkles in her eyes and on her forehead. The sun beamed into the kitchen that morning, bright and brilliant. The planes of her face were more angled and deeply shadowed. She seemed sallower and smaller, aged by grief.

"Your wife and daughter almost died," she went on in her quiet frustration.

I sighed and leaned against the counter. I stared at the wooden floors with a kitchen towel in my hands. Guilt was eating me. My mother might not know of the extent of Heidi's capabilities as a Spellcaster and fighter, but that wasn't her point.

"Sometimes," I said slowly, "these things make sure to separate us in order to weaken us. That was the point."

My mother scrubbed one of the plates in silence, her nostrils flared. So I continued.

"I'm doing all I can to make sure they're safe."

She handed me the cleaned plate and I dried it with the towel. Her green eyes flickered to me.

"I know you are. I'm just...just—"

Her voice choked and her eyebrows knitted. She held a hand to her mouth and tears spilled from her eyes. I held her.

"The whole time," she spoke into my shoulder, "I thought about your father. Heidi would have the help she needed if he was still around."

I didn't move. My mother had a small frame and I was at least a head taller than her. I felt her tremble as she wrapped her arms around mine.