She's also wearing every single piece of quartz in the shop. Her head glitters with a mix of duct tape and quartz stuck to a headband, and her sweatshirt is covered in bands of more tape, all with crystals of various sizes underneath.
"Ma," I breathe. "I'm so glad to see you." Some people don't get along with their parents, but despite my disdain for psychic everything, my mother and I are best friends. I love her and I've been worried sick about her. Not having my phone with me and being able to check in via text has been harder than I realized. Seeing her in front of me, bedecked in crystals and no worse for the wear, has taken some of the stress of the night off of my shoulders.
"Oh honey," my mother breathes, her gaze horrified. "Your face."
"Is it that bad?" I touch my bruised nose.
"Yes," Kassam says helpfully. "But nothing is broken." At my mother's wordless sound of protest, the god adds, "There was a fight at the bar. Carly was pulled in despite my efforts. I made sure they paid, though."
"Good." My mother gives me an assessing look, and I know she was worrying over me, too. "Are you okay, Carly honey? You look rough. Not just the bruises. Tired, too." Her gaze flicks to my bare feet and then over my dirty, wrinkled clothing.
"I didn't get much sleep," I admit. "Long story."
She closes her eyes and holds up a hand. "Say no more. I'm your mother and I don't want to hear details." She points at Kassam. "You—stay across the room. Both of you, actually. Much as I'd love to hug you, I need to remain clear-headed if we're going to do this."
Biting my lip, I nod. Of course it makes sense for us to stay as far from my mom as possible so she doesn't get pulled into Kassam's hedonism spell…but it still hurts. "You didn't use your cards, did you?"
Mom shakes her head, pulling out a few books she had in the break room. "Spent most of the night researching, actually. I looked up Lachesis and various rituals." Her gaze gets wistful. "What was she like?"
"Lachesis?" I have to struggle to recall. "Really…average. She smoked a cigarette and looked like she'd just gotten off work. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought she was just an average person."
"She's the middle fate in Greek mythology," my mother says, clutching the book to her chest, a dreamy expression taking over. "I can't believe she knows who I am. That she was looking out for me. I'm going to have to light a candle and thank her."
"If she's fate, she knows you're grateful," I point out, worried that my mom's going to start futzing with things she shouldn't. I've ignored and humored her spell-casting and rituals all my life, because I thought they were about as legit as Bigfoot or Nessie. Now that gods are real, it's casting a whole new light onto things, and I'm worried. "Just stay off the spells for a bit, maybe? Until things die down?"
She looks disappointed, but nods. "I can't stop seeing auras, though. Yours looks more web-covered than ever." She gestures at Kassam. "And all your threads and webs are stuck to him."
I blanch. "So which one is the fly caught in the spiderweb, me or him?"
My mother looks worried, casting a glance back and forth between me and Kassam as if she can't decide. "That wasn't what I meant—"
"It's okay," I manage, as Kassam puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "I know things are a mess right now. I'm just hoping they all get straightened out soon."
"Yes!" my mother says emphatically. "I do, too. I want you safe."
My skin prickles with awareness and I think about the dark presence waiting at my apartment last night. I put my hand over Kassam's, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze and silently asking him not to say anything that might alarm my mother. "Let's get this show on the road, then. We probably shouldn't linger."
I want nothing more than to hug my mom and have her help me with all of this, but I worry if she gets pulled in, it'll be dangerous for her. Better to stay away.
"Yes, of course," my mother says, opening her book again. "While I was preparing my clothes last night, I also looked up handfasting rituals. And I registered to be an official priestess of one religion and a minister of another, so I figure we can make this ceremony stick. A handfasting is just as legitimate as a wedding, and you don't need a license for that, which solves your problem." She gives us a firm nod, flipping open a book. "Give me just a moment and we can get started. No time to waste. The sooner we get you protected, the better."