The Darkest Magic (A Book of Spirits and Thieves) Read Free

smiling.
    Even though she looked different tonight in her tight white bodice that showed far more of her bosom than Maddox was used to, and a long black skirt that hugged her hips, he would recognize her anywhere. Her smile, her laugh, the kindness in her eyes—even when dealing with thirsty heathens, it would seem.
    Damaris Corso quickly weaved her way through the crowd toward him and threw her arms around him, hugging him close to her.
    “My sweet boy! I’ve missed you so much!”
    “I’ve missed you too,” he said, his throat tight with both happiness and relief at finding her. He cast a look over her shoulder at Barnabas, still seated, who nodded his approval. “When you weren’t at home, I thought . . . well, I didn’t know what to think. And now, you’re here and . . . you’re a . . . a . . .”
    “A barmaid. Yes, it’s true.” She sighed, but her smile didn’t falter as she kissed both of his cheeks. “With all these celebrations, it’s the easiest way to earn my coin.” Her eyes were kind, but it wasn’t until now that Maddox saw how tired they were, and he felt guilty for feeling any shame over his mother’s new occupation. “Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come home!”
    Yes, it was possible that his heart might burst. “Me too,” he said, smiling so as not to shed a tear.
    Then, Damaris’s joyful expression shadowed. “Where is Livius?” she asked in a low voice.
    “Not here, thankfully,” replied Barnabas.
    She turned her surprised gaze to Barnabas as he rose from his seat and drew back the hood of his cloak so she could fully see his face.
    Damaris’s mouth fell open. She appeared to grapple for the right words. “You . . .” was all she managed.
    Barnabas nodded. “Yes, it’s me. How’ve you been, sister?”
    In one lightning-fast motion, she slapped him, hard, across his left cheek.
    Barnabas winced, stroking his face gingerly. “I suppose I deserved that.”
    “Sixteen years! Sixteen years without a single word from you! I thought you were dead!” Then she grabbed him into a tight hug. “I’ve missed you so much, you horrible thing!”
    Barnabas grasped her shoulders and gave her a grin. “The feeling is mutual, Dam. Now we need to get out of here.”
    “What? I can’t leave. Do you see how many people are in here? On a night like tonight I can earn enough to live on for at least a month! Go back to my cottage, stay as long as you like, and when this place closes up I’ll come home. Then we can catch up on all that has happened.”
    A man with a shaved head in a red tunic climbed on top of a nearby table and raised his tankard high in the air. “To our radiant goddess Valoria!” he slurred. “May she reign for a thousand years! And a deadly curse upon the dark goddess of the South! We would rather spit than speak her name!”
    A deafening cheer followed this toast, and patrons pounded on the tables to show their approval. Maddox watched all of this uneasily. What would they do if they knew the horrible truth about their beloved goddess?
    “More wine for everyone!” the drunken man called out.
    “I can’t talk long,” Damaris said, gesturing at the eager patrons rushing to the front with their goblets and mugs. “But I promise to return as soon as I can.”
    Maddox grabbed her wrist as she turned away. “I know, Mother. I know everything.”
    Her face blanched, and her gaze found his again. “As soon as I saw Barnabas . . .” she sighed. “If he found you, I knew it had to mean . . .” She swallowed hard. “You know
everything
?”
    He nodded solemnly.
    “So you know that Barnabas is . . . is . . .”
    “My father,” he finished, still struggling to believe it was true. “And that you’re not really my mother, even though you . . . you
are
. I’ve been thinking about this for days on end. You will always be my mother. You kept me safe my whole life, with no one to help you, even though you’ve always known who I am.
What
I