Finnian woke to the soft sound of his mother moving around the room they'd been given for the night. The space was surprisingly comfortable—a guest chamber with stone walls softened by rich tapestries and furnished with a bed that was far more luxurious than anything they'd had at home. Seraphina, whatever her faults, apparently believed in treating her guests well.
For a moment, he lay still in the unfamiliar bed, watching his mother through half-closed eyes. She was moving with quiet efficiency, packing items into a leather satchel he didn't recognize. Her movements were careful, deliberate, and entirely too purposeful for someone who was just getting ready for the day.
"Mom?" he said softly, sitting up. "What are you doing?"
Mrs. Ravenswood froze for just a moment before turning to face him. In the soft morning light filtering through the narrow window, he could see the exhaustion etched in the lines around her eyes. She looked like she'd barely slept.
"I didn't want to wake you," she said, her voice gentle but strained. "I was hoping to slip out quietly."
"Slip out to where?" But even as he asked, a cold dread was already settling in his stomach. He knew the answer before she spoke.
"I'm going after Seraphina's artifact," she said simply, continuing to pack. "The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can start building some kind of normal life."
Finnian threw off the covers and stood up, his mind racing. "Are you insane? You said yourself last night that it was too dangerous for your current state. What's changed?"
"Nothing's changed," his mother replied, not meeting his eyes. "That's exactly the problem."
She moved to the small dresser and began selecting items from what appeared to be a collection of supplies Seraphina had provided—strange vials, what looked like protective charms, and other objects Finnian couldn't identify. Each item went into the satchel with practiced efficiency, as if she'd done this kind of preparation many times before.
"Then why are you doing this?" Finnian demanded, crossing the room to stand beside her. "Why now?"
Mrs. Ravenswood's hands stilled on a small silver pendant she'd been about to pack. For a long moment, she was quiet, and when she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.
"Because Seraphina was right," she said, the words seeming to cost her something. "We don't have any other options."
The admission hung in the air between them like a confession. Finnian had never heard his mother sound so defeated, so resigned to circumstances beyond her control. It was worse than seeing her fight that creature in his bedroom—at least then she'd been fighting. Now she just sounded… empty.
"There has to be another way," he said desperately. "We could leave, find somewhere else to go—"
"Where?" she asked, turning to face him fully. "Where exactly would we go, Finn? Those things that attacked us last night—they're not going to just give up and go home. They'll keep hunting us, and more will come. Stronger ones. And every time we run, every time we try to hide, we'll be putting innocent people in danger."
She gestured toward the window, where they could see other parts of the sanctuary complex in the distance. "Here, at least, we have Protection."
"But you could be killed!" The words burst out of him louder than he'd intended, and he saw his mother flinch.
"I could be killed anywhere," she said quietly. "At least this way, you'll be safe."
The simple statement hit him like a physical blow. She was willing to risk her life—to possibly throw it away—just to keep him protected. The guilt that had been gnawing at him since they'd arrived twisted deeper into his chest.
Mrs. Ravenswood seemed to read his expression, because her own face softened. She reached out and cupped his cheek with one hand, the gesture so familiar and comforting that it made his throat tight.
"Hey," she said gently. "Everything is going to be okay. I promise."
"How can you promise that?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
"Because I've been preparing for something like this for eighteen years," she said simply. "I may not be at full strength, but I'm not defenseless. And I'm certainly not going in blind."
She moved back to her packing, pulling out what looked like a detailed map and spreading it on the small table by the window.
"I've been studying the layout of the monastery since before dawn," she explained, pointing to various marked locations. "Seraphina provided detailed intelligence about Thorne's defenses, the ward structure, even the patrol schedules of his hired security. This isn't a suicide mission, Finn. It's a job."
A job. The casual way she said it made something click in his mind—another piece of the puzzle that was his mother's hidden life.
"You've done this before," he said. It wasn't a question.
She glanced up at him, and for a moment he saw a flicker of the person she'd been hiding all these years—someone competent and dangerous and utterly unlike the suburban mother who'd raised him.
"Yes," she said simply. "I have."
"How many times?"
"That's not important right now." She folded the map and tucked it into the satchel. "What's important is that you take the training Seraphina is offering seriously. Whatever you learn , you're going to need to develop them."
Finnian felt frustration rising in his chest. Even now, even when she was about to walk into danger, she was still keeping secrets from him.
"Forget about the training," he said, his voice sharper than he'd intended. "Forget about abilities and artifacts and all of this supernatural garbage. You promised me answers, Mom. Last night, you said you'd explain everything—about what I am, about what you are, about my father. You said you'd tell me the truth."
Mrs. Ravenswood's shoulders sagged slightly, and she sat down heavily on the edge of the bed.
"I know," she said softly. "And I will. When I get back, I promise I'll tell you everything you want to know."
"What if you don't come back?"
The question seemed to echo in the small room for a moment.
"Then Seraphina will have to be the one to give you those answers," she said. "She knows most of the story anyway."
"Most of it?"
"The parts that matter for understanding what you are and why you're in danger." She stood up and shouldered the satchel, then moved to where he stood and placed both hands on his shoulders. "But I'm coming back, Finn. I'm not leaving you alone in this world. Not after everything we've been through to keep you safe."
There was something in her tone—a fierce determination that reminded him of the woman who'd faced down that creature in his bedroom. It was reassuring and terrifying at the same time.
"How long will you be gone?" he asked.
"A few days, maybe a week at most." She pulled him into a tight hug, and he could feel her trembling slightly despite her confident words. "Just… be patient, okay? I know you have questions, and I know this is all overwhelming. But try to use this time to start understanding what you can do. It might save your life someday."
When she pulled back, her eyes were bright with unshed tears.
"And Finn? Whatever happens while I'm gone, whatever Seraphina does, do not let her get to you."
Before he could respond, she was moving toward the door.
"Wait—" he started, but she was already opening it.
"Be good," she said, giving him one last smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "And be careful. This place may be a sanctuary, but that doesn't mean everyone here has your best interests at heart."
And then she was gone, leaving him alone in the room with nothing but questions, guilt, and the growing certainty that nothing would ever be the same again.
As her footsteps faded down the corridor, Finnian sank into the chair by the window and stared out at the sanctuary grounds. Somewhere out there, his mother was preparing to risk her life for his safety. And somewhere else in this maze of stone and secrets, Seraphina was waiting to begin his training.
He was truly on his own now, in a world he didn't understand, surrounded by people whose motives he couldn't read.
The only question was whether he'd survive long enough to get the answers he desperately needed.