After I was led into the office, I saw a painting of my mother hanging on the wall over his desk. Her dark golden hair draped around the purple velvet chair she sat on and pooled upon the blue floor in wavy rivulets. She looked serene and perfect, with a tiny Mona Lisa smile on her face. She was wearing a high-waisted, empire-style gown in lavender that had tight, long sleeves.

My mouth twisted into a sneer because it was the most inaccurate painting I'd ever seen. Mother was a presence that was too large for such a sedate pose. She had raised me alone and fiercely guarded me against all comers. She'd taught me a history of wild beings that could never be content to sit in a chair, and she was born of those same beings.

More ridiculous was the yellow-haired cherub peeking over my mother's left shoulder that I assumed was me. Painted on each of my shoulders were big, flashy, white wings! I also had the same overly long hair, which mixed with my mother's glorious golden strands. What was even more laughable was the sweet, big-eyed expression on my face -- like I thought whoever was painting us was a deity!

The artist even painted me with dimples. I wished I had dimples but no such luck. It would have been fantastic for getting away with stuff. Still, I drank in that picture of my mother and felt wistful. I'd hoped I would finally see her in the alley.

In the room, two women sat in front of a wide oak desk. The younger woman had gleaming dark hair that, under the overhead light, had the hue of a black sapphire. I imagined it would be striking under the sun, though it was muted indoors. She had it pulled up into a tight topknot and, inserted into the knot, was a jeweled comb winged with two golden, horn-like projections. Attached to the comb was a gray, fluttery veil that partially obscured her face. I could tell that she was lovely in a vague sort of way. She stood up, and I saw she was about 5'8" tall and had a regal bearing. She was wearing a dove-gray robe with a broad, vertical strip of heavy embroidery down the front. Acorns, Celtic knots, and vines made up the embroidery.

The other woman, who was unveiled, resembled my mother. The only differences were her bronze-colored hair, narrower face, and shorter nose. All the oxygen in the room fled. I put my hand over my mouth and shook my head, tears threatening to spill. She also stood, with the quick rising and look of shock of someone that had seen a ghost.

"Is that..." She stepped forward once, but the younger woman laid a hand on her shoulder, so she stopped. Her hands had raised into a hug, but they fell to her sides. I looked between the two and saw the younger woman's mouth compress in annoyance. My mother's doppelganger lifted her head regally.

I was frozen until Luke touched my shoulder to steer me to a chair next to the two women. I balked at sitting near them.

Klack pecked at Luke and hissed, causing him to snatch his hand from me. I tore my stricken gaze from the two women and stared at the surface of the desk.

"I prefer to stand, thank you."

" Very well. This is your aunt, Athalia, and your cousin, Regina." Luke was brusque with his introduction.

The two women nodded, both of them so stiff they belonged in a house of wax. It was not the Hallmark reunion I'd imagined all my life, and I missed my mother like it was a knife in my chest. Athalia still looked stricken, but Regina's harsh mouth suggested controlled ire. I wished I could see her eyes better.

Luke had a handkerchief out and was wiping the hand Klack pecked as he stared at my pets. Disgust pinched his features. Klack had been wiping its beak on my shoulder, so it shared Luke's opinions.

"Nice to meet you." I ignored the questions in Luke's eyes about my pets as I murmured insincere pleasantries to my new relatives. It felt about as lovely as stabbing my foot with a needle to meet them.

Luke threw the handkerchief he was using into the trash. After a lengthy, silent, roving analysis of my face, he finally spoke. "It took me a while to find you because we thought you were dead. When I saw a picture of you at an Italian restaurant a few months ago, I realized it was you. Although I had only seen you once before, I knew those eyes. You were standing next to Michael with no contacts or other disguise."

Stupid picture. I would have loved to wring the photographer's neck. Then I'd twist my own. I must have lost my contacts again that day. "How do you know Mike? And, I don't remember ever meeting you before." I'd remember meeting someone like him.

"Mike used to be a friend of both of our families. And, it was for but a moment that I saw you when I was a boy. It was through a communication mirror. You were sitting behind your mother, and she was speaking to Athalia."

"Oh." So he was the artist of the painting. Although Mother often spoke to a mirror in our home, I didn't remember being in the room with her, likely because I'd been so young. I must have snuck in as a child since she didn't allow me to listen to her conversations. I looked about three or four in the painting.

It made sense though, why the picture in the pizza shop would garner attention. A little curiosity about why Mike was hanging around with a human boy could dig up enough information to realize I wasn't normal and that I'd had no origin in any country on Earth. My records began with Aisa. "Were you the ones that made Mike frame me?"

His jaw clenched, and he looked offended. "I do not work that way. My plan to meet with you was supposed to have been civil. I apologize again for how you were treated.

"We have a possible suspect as to who made Mike frame you." Regina inserted. Her voice was lovely and brittle as a glass bell.

"Go ahead, Elect Regina," Luke said.

Regina nodded regally at Luke. Then she explained to me, "Mike is a devout Duirite and a dear friend of your grandfather, who is also a follower. The supplicants of Duir value purity above all else. But Mike has always struggled with the path."

I thought of Mike's dirty shop and bad habits and smirked. "Mike loves to gamble, smoke, drink, and cause trouble. Those are not lily-white habits. I don't believe he followed any purity goddesses."

Regina didn't seem surprised by my description of Mike's character. With a nod, she continued with her theory. "Nevertheless, he was. What puzzles us is how he found you on the Earth. We suppose it might have been your mother, but our evidence is thin."

Athalia cut into her daughter's explanation. "I also have doubts that the Brigid planned that. His deep friendship with your grandfather makes any argument to the contrary ridiculous. He owes your grandfather many favors, and that man hates that an impure half-breed is the only daughter of the Brigid."

My aunt ended on a flat note that made me stare at her. Was it just my paw-paw who hated me?

"Careful how you address Elect Madeline, Athalia," Luke said in a menacing tone. "She is the Brigid's only daughter."

Athalia's nod looked a bit like a shrug. Before I could ask about this 'elect' business, Luke took up the story from there. "I can't prove it, but I believe your grandfather wants you dead and thought you'd died in Brigid's escape. I believe he'd been party to a pact to kill you when you were a child. There is some evidence that Mike owed him a favor due to your old friend's gambling addiction. If your grandfather also learned that you were alive, Mike likely framed you so that your grandfather could kill you."

His words destroyed me. Mike had been like a father to me, and if his framing of me had been more than just an attempt to shift blame for a theft -- if it had been a way to murder me -- I didn't think I could accept that. I sat down finally since my legs could no longer hold me.

"But why? I was fine where I was. Why not just leave me be?"

"Your grandfather is one of the blessed Counsul of Duir in Lars and takes his station seriously. You are an insult to him." I couldn't see Regina's eyes, but it felt like she was looking at me coldly.

"Why does he hate me! He doesn't even know me!" My chair fell backward as I stood. The painting, my aunt, hateful relatives, Mike - I couldn't take it anymore.

"We believe Mike agreed you didn't deserve it. It's why he tipped you off." Athalia's measured voice broke into my tirade. "You may have noticed all the snow outside. This snow began the day of your accident when you were a child, and now, only a few pockets of Aleria are free of snow." She frowned, and it felt like she had rehearsed what she was saying. "There was an oracle that said you must come here."

"I'm really in Aleria? My mother's world? I'm not in, like, Colorado or something?" It was getting more challenging for me to breathe. "Erick hadn't mentioned where we were going when he grabbed me."

"This world is Aleria, Madeline, yes," Luke said, then he pounded on the desk once. "Erick dared to lay hands on you to bring you here. His only task was to quietly use the spell I gave him and carefully bring you back. Alone." He sounded as if he wanted to beat on Erick some more.

I shrugged, not knowing why Erick took such lengths. Maybe it was because it had been hard to get me alone that day.

Another world. If what I was understanding was the truth, I was in this Aleria place. Mother had told me stories about Aleria. We'd planned to come back here when I turned eighteen. They would be too late, and she'd said, to try to use me or kill me.

"My friends. Your goons grabbed them, along with me. I want you to let them go home. One of them was hurt."

"I will not." Luke's lips thinned. "But I will allow them freedom and complete healing if you agree to certain terms."

Okay, here it comes. "And what is that?"

"Your role is to become the Principi of this world, and you must compete in the rite of the Principi. The Principi is the faerie queen, the bringer of spring, and the avatar of Duir. If you win the trials, you become the Principi. Regina has also been marked to take part, as well as one other, Marisol, daughter of Parson Metovis, duke of the Ash court, and part of the counsul."

That sounded like a lot of 'No' to me. All I wanted was to turn eighteen and disappear quietly. Just two weeks more, and I would have had my wish! "And if I refuse?"

Luke glared at me. "You cannot. I have your friends and will use them to make you say yes if I must."

"Of course. Too bad you don't have a mustache to twirl. What else are you going to say?" I put up my finger dramatically, "I will kill you all if you thwart me!"

A hint of amusement glittered in his eyes. "You think me a villain? I saved you from whatever fate your grandfather wished on you."

"Only because you jerks need me. Sorry, ladies." I nodded at them.

The women averted their eyes. There was no argument there.

"And if I lose? I get to go home?"

"You must not lose. It is my prediction that your victory will end the winter in our lands. With that in mind, I will petition for your hand since I intend to be of your court. Doing so might ensure your victory and safety since I am the last son of my family."

"Luke!" Regina was aghast. "You cannot be in her court! You are Regent!"

"I can be as I choose! The Brigid is lost to me. I will not have her only daughter lost to me as well! As the last of both of our lines, it is only right," He said in rebuke.

I ignored the arranged marriage threat and focused on the most horrible statement he'd made.

"Brigid is lost? What do you mean?" I asked as the squeezing in my chest that had been there this whole time grew tighter.

Luke had pulled a pot of mint towards him and was clutching it. "The Brigid is dead."

I looked at the mint plant and realized that it was my mother's plant from our cottage. The yellow ceramic pot had a crack that I'd made when I dropped it one day.

"No," I whispered. I took the pot from him with shaking hands. I felt the warmth of a tear against my cheek. "How do you have this?"

"Our searchers found it with her in a satchel. The assassins had pierced her through with arrows."

I heard a ringing in my ears at this news. Someone was screaming. Oh, I was screaming. It was me. I collapsed on the ground and howled with sorrow. My heart was shattering.

I felt strong arms lift me, and I hung limp in them, my sobs and screams scraping my throat. In one moment, we were still in the office, and in the next, I was being put into a soft bed.

Luke had stayed beside the bed, laying his hand on my shoulder for a moment, at a loss of how to comfort me. There was no comfort, though, in a life without my mother.

"I had thought you had known that she was dead. My apologies for you learning about it that way."

I hugged my knees as I lay there and couldn't think of anything but how the last time my mother saw me, she was so angry that I ruined our life.

Luke left me alone finally, and I sobbed myself to sleep.