A/N:

ooOoo

Chapter 9: A Mother's Love

Louise stepped out into the moonlight, relief and fear both clear in her sky-blue eyes. "You leave quite the impression, Haru. All I had to do was ask round a few pubs until someone remembered you. Are you okay?" She reached out to Haru, taking her daughter's cheek in her hand and examining her face. "I never should have left you alone... How did he find you? Where is he now?"

"Who?"

"The man who kidnapped you!" Her mother brought out a familiar satchel and tugged loose the wanted poster from its depths. Baron's face – or a recognisable approximation – stared out at her. "The thief!"

Haru gently took the poster from her mother. "He… He didn't kidnap me," she said eventually. "I… I ran away. I'm sorry–"

"Why?" All the anger, all the ire that Haru had been expecting at her confession was nowhere to be seen in her mother. Instead there was only sadness and tiredness. Somehow that was worse than all the rage in the world. "You were safe, and happy, at least I thought you were – I was going to bring you paint for your eighteenth… Did I really do such a terrible job?"

"No! No, you did a great job–"

"Then why…?"

"Why do you think? I've spent my whole life in that tower, looking out through that window, dreaming of what the world is like. And then Baron… fell into the tower, into my life, and I thought that this could be my chance. My only chance. He's taking me to see the lantern festival–"

"No."

Haru halted, her wanderlust draining away at her mother's answer. "What?"

"No, Haru; we're going home. It's too dangerous to be out here anymore."

"Why? You told me that the world was a dark and dangerous place–"

"And isn't it? You've been through the forest, through a pub of criminals, chased after by guards, and goodness knows what else. And that's before anyone discovers what your hair can do – how long will it be before you see someone in pain and reach out with your magic? How long will it take after that for word to get out of what you are – of what you can do?"

"I…" Haru fought for an answer, but hadn't she done just that? At the first sign of injury – a shallow cut – hadn't she forgotten everything her mother had taught her and revealed her powers? But Baron was different. He had to be. "My hair is a gift, Mother; what good is it to anyone hidden away in that tower?"

"What good is it if you're being exploited for it? Haru, I didn't want to scare you, but there are people out there who are already looking for you – who knew of you before we had to hide away in that tower and who know what you can do – and know you're here, somewhere. We need to go – now."

Louise moved as if to lead Haru away, but Haru twisted away. "Wait, let me at least tell Baron."

"No."

"But he–"

"He's a thief, Haru. He's not to be trusted."

"He's my friend!"

"Can't you see he's using you?" Her mother whipped out the crown from the satchel. Anger finally lined her voice. "If you're lucky, this is all he's after. What did you promise? To return it once he took you to the lantern festival?"

"I was only going to return it once I got back to the tower," Haru protested. "I had everything under control–"

"No, you didn't! You have no idea what you're dealing with here! One of the people looking for you is his brother – what if he's working alongside him? What if this is a trap?"

"His brother is looking for me?"

"Haru, you're not listening to me – what if this is a trap?"

"It's not."

"And what makes you so sure?"

"I know him, Mother; I know that Baron would never do anything like that. He…" And here the word she wanted to say stuck in her throat, and she stuttered for a moment. "He cares for me, I think. Anyway, he and his brother went their separate ways; there's no way Baron could be working with him."

Sounds in the depth of the forest echoed through the trees, and fresh fear ran through her mother. "I don't have time for this. Haru, I can't make you come home, but take this." She pushed across the satchel, now with the poster and crown inside. "Give him this, and get away from him. Whatever you do, don't trust him."

"Where are you going?"

"The people who are looking for you have already seen me; if I stay any longer they might find us both. You need to leave now." She drew her daughter into an abrupt, desperate hug. "Oh, I wish I had the time to explain everything, but please believe me when I say that everything I did was to protect you. Be careful."

She melted out of the embrace and disappeared back into the shadows of the forest, leaving Haru lingering lonelily at the edge of the clearing. Haru sank slowly down to her knees. Her knuckles were white as they gripped the satchel, trembling as they felt the crown within.

"Hey… Chicky…?"

"Not now, Muta," Haru whispered. "And don't mention this to Baron. Any of it."

"Hey, can I ask you something?" As if summoned by his name, Baron's voice echoed through the forest. Haru stuffed the satchel beneath the log. "Does your hair have side-effects?" His silhouette appeared at the edge of the clearing, his form outlined by the dying fire. "My hair isn't going to start glowing too, is it? Because that would be a really unfortunate fate for a…" He trailed off as he spotted Haru kneeling down at the edge of the clearing, almost entirely cast in shadow. "Haru, are you okay?"

"Oh!" She stumbled to her feet, only to find her legs were still shaking. Baron dropped the logs he was carrying to catch her arm and steady her. "Thanks. I just… I thought I saw something out there, I guess."

"You look pale. Did something happen while I was away?"

"No. I…" For a moment, she considered telling Baron the truth – the whole truth – but the words lodged themselves in her throat. Her mind returned to the satchel and its bejewelled contents, and she feared that if she started telling even part of the truth, then her mouth would run away with her and she'd reveal the rest. And for all her claims of trust, that nagging doubt that her mother could still be proven right prevailed.

"I think there's something watching us," she settled on. "Can we find somewhere else to stop for the night?"

Baron turned his gaze to the forest, and for a moment Haru thought he was going to dismiss her request. But then he looked back to her, and the moment passed. "Sure. Better safe than sorry, right?" He smothered the half-dead fire with his boot, rendering what little was left into ashes.

"I'm sorry, I just–"

"It's fine," he promised. "Whatever you've seen has clearly spooked you. Are you okay to keep moving?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"We won't be able to make it out of the forest tonight, but…" He paused as he scuffed out the last remains of the fire, and the clearing dropped back into dappled moonlight. "But if you want somewhere safe, I think I know a place we won't be found. Pork pie?" He retrieved a small bundle of food from his jacket pocket, a little squished after travelling, but not too much the worse for wear.

"Did you steal that from the Sitting Duck?"

"Are you saying you're not going to take one?"

Haru glared, but then her stomach took the opportunity to remind her that she hadn't eaten since that morning. She grudgingly picked out half a sausage roll and pushed forward through the forest. "When we're all done here, you'd better go back and pay for this."

"Better yet, I'll bring them back the crown," Baron promised.

"Ah, well; I'm not asking for miracles."

"You really don't believe me, do you?"

"Considering that you've just stolen from your own friends, I think my scepticism is valid."

"It's not theft if you're borrowing from friends. Anyway, they run a pub. I doubt they'll even notice it's missing." Baron paused, and then added, "Well, we are talking about Hiromi here, so perhaps she will. But I think I can live with that." He offered a feline grin and his hand as they came to an abrupt ascent along the half-formed forest path. "Now you're finished berating me over my meal choices, shall we press on?"

Haru finished the stolen sausage roll and reluctantly took the proffered hand, allowing him to steady her as they clambered up the track. She glanced back into the shadows of the forest.

"Haru?"

"I'm fine." She turned back to Baron and forced a smile. "Let's go."

ooOoo

Louise stumbled down the hollow of a ravine, the sound of pursuit hot on her heels. She slipped the last couple of feet in the muddied slopes and came to an uneasy halt in a small stream. She grabbed one of the saplings lining the brook's banks before her legs could buckle beneath her.

"Giving up already, Mother?"

She looked up. "Some of us aren't as young as we used to be." She straightened, even as her limbs shook and the water soaked up through her ruined shoes. She met her son's cold gaze. "I thought I had raised you to be better than this, Auberon. You had such potential for goodness – and now look at you. I've heard of what became of you and Humbert. Thieves. Criminals. Wanted men. When did you become so heartless?"

Her son descended the gully, taking his time as she spoke. "Well, that's the kicker, isn't it? You didn't raise us. No. Instead, you decided to run off with some mewling little baby, leaving your own family – your own sons – to fend for themselves, while you raised a princess–"

As he neared, Louise stepped back. "If you knew why–"

"I KNOW WHY!" His voice echoed back across the ravine, and when it faded, Auberon continued, his voice calmer, almost dangerously idle. "After years and years of wondering, I finally discovered the truth. The cats told me exactly what had happened."

Louise glanced behind him to where the cats had appeared at the top of the gully.

"Hey, hey, don't look at them." Auberon snapped his fingers before his mother's face. "After eighteen years of neglecting your own flesh and blood, I think you owe your real family at least five minutes of your precious time."

"Whatever they told you, Auberon, you can't trust them–"

"And I can trust you? The mother who abandoned her own children?" He tutted. "You lost the right to lecture me on morality a long time ago." He leant closer. "Or will you deny the fact that you left us for the sake of some princess?"

"I did it to save her, I had to–"

"No. You didn't. You should have just let things be. Was she worth it? Was she worth what you did to our family?"

Louise was silent. And then, "I didn't realise things would get so dire. I'm sorry–"

"It's too late for that! Spare your condolences, Mother."

One of the cats – the bespectacled one – joined them, pushing his glasses back up his face as he regarded their quarry. "As charming as this family reunion is, time is of the essence. Duke," he said, turning to Auberon, "the King grows ever more impatient. You promised us a way to find the Princess."

Louise turned to her son. "Why work with them?" she demanded. "They're the reason I had to take Haru in the first place – the reason I had to stay in hiding all these years."

"Funny thing, Mother, but I don't really care what happens to the Princess. If it hadn't been for her, none of this would have happened – if you hadn't taken pity on another woman's child, we'd still be a family. And if the Cat King has promised riches for my efforts, then that makes this all the sweeter. Now, where is the Princess?"

"As if I'd tell you."

"I'm sorry, you seem to have mistaken that for a request." He opened his palm to reveal a golden ring set with a large blue gemstone. "Baroness Louise von Gikkingen, your name belongs to me now."

Her name appeared in spindly black writing above the ring, swaying in the air before plummeting down and sinking into the blue stone's shimmering surface.

"Name magic?" his mother snapped. "Where did you get such a thing from?"

"Oh, I simply borrowed it. Now, Mother, where is the Princess?"

She stiffened as she felt the answer bubble up through her and wrangle its way to her lips. She pushed the words aside. "Fight me."

The cat glanced to Auberon. "I thought you said this magic was infallible."

"My mother has been using the magic of the Princess to keep her alive all this time," Auberon replied, "so you'll have to forgive me if the multiple magicks don't mix. Regardless, she'll have to give at some point. So, Mother; where is the Princess? An answer this time, please."

The demand for the truth burned on her tongue and filled her head until she couldn't stop the words from forming. "In the forest."

"The forest is a large place–" the cat started.

"Patience, Natori," Auberon said. "All good things come to those who wait. Now, Mother, perhaps you'd be so good as to show us exactly where the Princess is? Now."

One shaky footstep. And then another. Try as she might, her limbs were working on automatic, heading back to the glade where she had last seen her daughter.