"Oh, Acacia, are you sure this is a good idea?" Mum was moaning, watching me rummage through the kitchen drawers with a scowl.
Lifting my gaze long enough to glance in her direction, I turned to the window with a troubled expression. "The sun will be up soon," I told her in a sharp voice. "I want to get a head start, and if I leave it much longer, they'll see me coming."
Mum shuffled slightly on her feet, and I had to purse my lips tightly before I snapped at her. She looked awful, but since she'd staggered into the house less than three hours ago, I figured she was recovering pretty quickly. Her blonde hair was ragged and knotted, and her blue eyes shone worried as she watched me. Dressed in baggy pyjamas and a thick dressing gown, she had propped herself up in the doorway, most likely to stop herself falling over.
"Don't you attract enough trouble?" she frowned at me quietly. "Why do you have to go looking for it too?"
I snorted sourly at her. "I attract more than enough trouble," I agreed. "But I've never met a group of organised monsters before now. If I wait for them to find me, I've got no chance. If I find them . . ."
Glancing back at her, I felt a little relieved that she couldn't tell I was lying. I knew finding them would be just as dangerous as them finding me, but this way, there was no chance of Mum getting caught in the crossfire. As irritating as she was, she was my mother, and I loved her. I wasn't going to let her get killed because of me.
"You don't even know they're here for you!" Mum complained, and I rolled my eyes wryly, slamming the last kitchen drawer shut.
"There isn't another demigod for miles, Mum!" I scowled. Her expression wavered. "I'm going out there, Mum, and you're not going to change my mind. Now what did you do with my knife?"
She took a deep breath and straightened out, composing herself carefully. "I don't know what you're talking about."
My fists clenched. "Mum, would you quit it already? I'm not staying here waiting for them to kill us! Hand it over."
"And I'm not watching my only child sentence herself to death!" Mum snapped back. My face fell. "You're eleven years old, Acacia!"
"But I'm not a normal eleven year old," I persisted, taking a step closer. "Now what did you do with the knife, Mum?" She shook her head. "Oh, for the love of – Mum! Hand it over!"
"Acacia-"
"Now!"
Her eyes glistened, and my anger faded a fraction. Slowly, she reached back and pulled something from the waistband of her dressing gown – a celestial bronze knife that glinted strangely in the dim light from the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward and took it carefully from her shaking hands. Then, before she could pull back, I threw my arms around her shoulders and squeezed tightly. In the same second, she burst into silent tears.
"I'll be back before you know it," I said past the lump forming in the bottom of my throat. "I promise." Without even looking, I stepped back and rushed from the house, leaving my mother shaking in fright.
In hindsight, she had every right. I knew I could keep her safe. I should have never promised to do the same for myself.