Midnight Wonders

5.3.1. The Collector of Lost Children

"What's with her mood today?" Cora hissed, glancing at Symphora pacing in the corner of the room as she waited for Cora to get dressed.

Tulla and Opellia shared a wide-eyed look. "Stop squirming," Lavinia said behind Cora, tightening the laces at the back of her dress. "Or I'll cinch you in to a toothpick."

"We have visitors," Symphora announced suddenly, making them all jump. Cora looked up at where the Queen had stopped tracing circles into the floor and was now standing sternly in front of the door, arms crossed. Something about that made her look funny, like a petulant child.

"Visitors?" said Cora, suddenly registering what she'd said. Someone else? Someone other than Tristan? Could it be...?

"Yes," said Symphora. "So hurry up. Our guest is waiting in the nursery."

A guest. Lavinia tied off the laces and Cora hurriedly splashed her face with water, patting it dry with a towel offered by Tulla. "Ready!" she said, and Symphora returned a severe look. Usually she at least pretended that she wanted to be there.

"You three," Symphora said, addressing Cora's ladies, "go tend to the Red Garden." The three of them nodded and, sparing Cora a final glance, left. Cora, left by herself, followed Symphora down to the nursery, where there was a woman attending to one of the cradles. She looked up as they entered.

"Hello," she said, with a slight bow. Her hair moved with her: it was long, golden, straight as a pin, but it swished back and forth like a curtain in the wind. There was a slight ringing of bells. "Hello, Symphora."

"You are as insolent as ever, I see," said Symphora, looking at her reprovingly. "Concordia, this is Amabilia. She is the Collector of Lost Children."

"Oh," said Cora, a little disappointed though trying not to show it. "Hello." She gave Amabilia a nod of acknowledgment and a smile to ease the atmosphere. "You can call me Cora. It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to see you, too," said Amabilia.

"Wait." Cora frowned at her wording. "Have we met before? You know, before I...forgot? Or left? Or whatever?" Amabilia nodded, and Cora sighed. It wasn't even surprising at this point. How old had she been when she'd left? There must have been dozens of people she could no longer remember. "Oh. I'm sorry I don't remember you, then."

"It's all right," Amabilia said pleasantly. "I didn't expect you to."

"Just a visit, then?" Symphora cut in with her cold voice. "Nothing more?"

"Just a visit," Amabilia said. "I want to see how the babies are doing. It seems like you've gotten them settled already." She tilted her head in the direction of Lilias's and Tam's cradles.

"They're taking to lambhood as well as they should, and as well as the children always do," Symphora said. "You are the only one we've ever had any trouble with."

"I am just attached to my true self, I suppose," said Amabilia.

"And how unfortunate that you were one of those who stayed!" Symphora went on. "It seems all the good children always want to leave."

"The naughty children are the only ones who can handle being here, and the good children know only how to say no by leaving." Amabilia played with the bells around her waist. "Still bitter that Kay chose to go to the Sycamore, aren't you?"

"Why would I be bitter about him specifically?" Symphora snapped. "Most of the children leave. As if he were ever truly a good child either!"

"Yes, but he's the only one who ever told you that he left because he didn't like you," said Amabilia. "Isn't he?"

Both Symphora and Cora blinked in surprise. Whoever Kay was, Cora didn't know if she disliked him for being outright rude (even if it were honest), or if she liked him for even daring to say anything of the sort to Symphora, of all people.

Amabilia glanced at Cora, who had all been pushed out of Symphora's attention, out of the conversation. Cora was glad to be acknowledged after standing there awkwardly through the rising tension, and she started walking down the aisles of cradles, leading Symphora away. She tipped her head slightly towards Cora as she passed, some sort of secret signal Cora felt she was supposed to understand.

"I have no reason to let his words bear any weight upon me," Symphora said, pursuing Amabilia with barely-contained rage. "It's not as if he's known for saying kind things to anyone. Or for his honesty. And as if I could even remember, considering how long it's been."

"He's honest about what he hates, at least," Amabilia said, sounding amused.

"Wait, why are we talking about him?" Symphora said. "He's not even here anymore; he hasn't been around for the past two Midsummers. It's not as if he's my son. Tell me about my true child. Where is my daughter?" Cora looked up, watching Symphora agitatedly follow Amabilia, who floated breezily through the nursery, stopping at a cradle here and there to tend to the babies. Lavinia had said that Cora had a sister, but it had never occurred to her that her sister might not be in the Yew at all, especially considering her father had been there for a while before she even knew he existed.

"Why do you ask me?" Amabilia said, tucking a blanket up to one of the babies' chins. "She's your daughter."

"I know you know where she is," said Symphora.

"How so?"

"Because she's always with you. She tells you things that she would never tell me. For whatever reason," Symphora huffed.

"Hm. I guess she does like me more."

"Annabel—!"

"Hush," said Amabilia. "You'll wake the children." She gave Symphora a placid smile. "Anyway, I thought that wasn't my name anymore."

"If you will only listen to someone who calls you by that name then I will do what I must," said Symphora. "You know Midsummer is approaching, and she must be here for that."

"She knows; she'll be here," Amabilia said dismissively. "She just doesn't want to be around here any longer than she has to. And you know why."

Symphora huffed. "I know why, but I can hardly understand. She has the strangest convictions."

"As do you." Amabilia shrugged.

"I know what is right. She convinces herself that her falsehoods are true."

"No one knows everything, and neither do you. What's one of her lies?"

"That I hate her."

"She doesn't think that."

"You don't know her as I do."

"I might know her better."

It was a little satisfying to see Symphora's fury directed at someone who seemed to brush it off completely. Cora could think herself doing very well in keeping Symphora from getting under her skin, but Amabilia seemed well-trained to turn any barbs back upon Symphora. "I'm her mother," Symphora snapped.

"At some point you were mine too." Amabilia looked up at Cora, still standing there, unsure of what to do with herself. "I want to see how they're getting along in their usual selves," Amabilia said, suddenly changing the subject. "Is there a wand in here?"

Symphora didn't seem upset about the change either. "We don't keep one in the room. Obviously." She looked at Cora. "Go get—"

"Oh, don't make her do it," said Amabilia. "I will."

Symphora frowned. "I don't want you wandering around in here by yourself."

"You really distrust me so?"

"I trust you the least."

"Thank you," said Amabilia. "I'm flattered."

Symphora huffed. "I'll go get it. Don't do any scheming in here, now." She left, and Cora stared at Amabilia with wide eyes.

"Let's get to scheming," said Amabilia. "Call me Annabel, not Amabilia. I'm here to get you out."