Mother sighed. “I won’t insult you by saying that your father asked me not to, although he did. And I won’t say it was for Traveler tradition either, because the situation was more complicated. But, Zofi, whatever I think about your father’s decisions, he had a point here. If nobody knew you existed, nobody could hunt you. And people would have, believe me. Your blood alone would fetch more on the black market than our band has earned in decades.”

“Again, you always know how to make me feel better,” she muttered. Then she leaned forward. “Even now, Mother, you aren’t telling me everything.”

“If I told you every secret I have, Zofi, we’d both be sitting in this tent until we died of old age.” Mother smiled, though she sobered when Zofi didn’t join her.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re a curseworker?”

Her mother hesitated. Only for a split second, yet it was enough. Then she laughed and raised her tea mug. “Would you like some? Fresh-picked mint, from just down the swamp.”

“Mother.” Though she did take the mug and drink, deeply. It stung on the way down. Mother must have laced it with a little something extra.

“I’ve been a lot of things in my life, Zofi.” Mother watched her closely. “Not all of which I’m proud of. But first and foremost, I’m your mother. And while I hope I’m your friend as well, being a mother—it’s not like being friends with somebody. There are certain things you don’t share with your children, dangerous things.…”

“Spare me the lecture, Mother. It’s true, isn’t it?” She eyed the silver scar on her mother’s face, so familiar that to Zofi it seemed a part of her skin. Like something she’d been born with. “Didn’t you trust me enough to tell me?”

“Zofi, darling, of course I trust you. It’s the rest of the world I don’t. If someone learned what I am, I wanted you to have a clean conscience. They couldn’t arrest you for covering up an illegal business you had no idea existed.”

“So you put the whole band in danger to sell curses at black markets?”

“Some of the band know,” Mother said, and if Zofi thought the betrayal hurt before, that was nothing to the sting of it now.

“Who?” She scowled.

“A few elders. Enough people to cover my tracks and get the rest of you to safety if I was ever taken. Look, it doesn’t matter who knew, Zofi. It was never about that. Or about money. It’s about doing what’s right. Sharing knowledge, the way Travelers have always done. I help people with cursework, yes. Rarely, and only when I see true need.”

“Is that why you helped Akeylah?”

Her mother frowned. “Who?”