Jenna Black - Glimmerglass

To the Deadline DamesDevon, Jackie, Kaz, Keri, Lili, Rachel, Rinda, and Tonifor support above and beyond the call of duty

A novel is rarely written in a vacuum, and this one is no exception. Many thanks to my critique partner, Kelly Gay, for all the valuable input she gave me along the way, and for reading multiple drafts without a word of complaint. Thanks also to Dame Kaz for helping me make sure my Avalon Fae didnt speak too much like transplanted Americans, and to Lauren Abercrombie for helping me make sure my teens came out sounding like teens. Thanks to my editor, Jennifer Weis, and her assistant, Anne Bensson, for making this book possible in the first place. And last, thanks to my fabulous agent, Miriam Kriss, for believing in me, and for helping me believe in myself when my confidence wavers.

The absolute last straw was when my mom showed up at my recital drunk. I dont mean tipsyI mean staggering, slurring, everyone-knows drunk. And as if that wasnt bad enough, she was late, too, so that when she pushed through the doors and practically fell into a metal folding chair at the back, everyone turned to glare at her for interrupting the performance.

Standing in the wings, I wanted to sink through the floor in embarrassment. Ms. Morris, my voice teacher, was the only one in the room who realized the person causing the disruption was my mother. Id very carefully avoided any contact between my mom and the students of this schoolmy newest one, and the one I hoped to graduate from if we could manage two full years in the same location just this once.

When it was my turn to perform, Ms. Morris gave me a sympathetic look before she put her hands on the piano. My face felt hot with embarrassment, and my throat was so tight I worried my voice would crack the moment I opened my mouth.

My voice is naturally prettya result of my ultra-secret, hush-hush Fae heritage. Truthfully, I didnt need the voice lessons, but summer vacation was going to start in a few weeks, and Id wanted an excuse that would get me out of the house now and then but wouldnt require a huge time commitment. Voice lessons had fit the bill. And I enjoyed them.

My heart beat hard against my chest, and my palms sweated as Ms. Morris played the introduction. I tried to concentrate on the music. If I could just get through the song and act normal, no one in the audience had to know that the drunken idiot in the back was related to me.

Finally, the intro was over, and it was time for me to start. Despite my less-than-optimal state of mind, the music took over for a while, and I let the beauty of Voi che sapete, one of my favorite Mozart arias, wash over me. Traditionally sung by a woman pretending to be a young boy, it was perfect for my clear soprano, with the hint of vibrato that added a human touch to my otherwise Fae voice.

I hit every note spot on, and didnt forget any of my lyrics. Ms. Morris nodded in approval a couple times when I got the phrasing just the way she wanted it. But I knew I could have done better, put more feeling into it, if I hadnt been so morbidly aware of my moms presence.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I was done. Until the applause started, that is. Most of the parents and other students gave a polite, if heartfelt, round of applause. My mom, on the other hand, gave me a standing ovation, once more drawing all eyes to her. And, of course, revealing that she was with me.

If lightning had shot from the heavens and struck me dead at that moment, I might have welcomed it.

I shouldnt have told her about the recital, but despite the fact that I knew better, thered been some part of me that wished she would show up to hear me sing, wished shed applaud me and be proud like a normal mother. Im such a moron!

I wondered how long it would take the story to make the rounds of this school. At my previous school, when one of the bitchy cheerleader types had run into me and my mom when we were shoppinga task she was barely sober enough to manageit had taken all of one day for the entire school to know my mom was a drunk. I hadnt exactly been part of the popular crowd even before, but after that Well, lets just say that for once I was glad we were moving yet again.

I was sixteen years old, and wed lived in ten different cities that I could remember. We moved around so much because my mom didnt want my dad to find me. She was afraid hed try to take me away from her, and considering she isnt exactly a study in parental perfection, he just might be able to do it.

Id never met my dad, but my mom had told me all about him. The story varied depending on how drunk and/or depressed she was feeling at the time. What Im pretty sure is true is that my mom was born in Avalon and lived there most of her life, and that my dad is some kind of big-deal Fae there. Only my mom hadnt realized who he was when she started messing around with him. She found out right about the time she got pregnant with me, and she left home before anyone knew.

Sometimes, my mom said shed run away from Avalon because my dad was such a terrible, evil man that hed be sure to abuse me in horrible ways if I lived with him. That was the story she told when she was sober, the story she built to make sure I was never interested in meeting him. Hes a monster, Dana, shed say, explaining why we had to move yet again. I cant let him find you.

But when she was drunk out of her gourd and babbling at me about whatever entered her mind at the moment, shed say shed left Avalon because if Id stayed there, Id have been caught up in some kind of nasty political intrigue, me being the daughter of a high muckety-muck Fae and all. When she was in one of these moods, shed go on and on about how great a guy my dad was, how shed loved him more than life itself, but how her duty as a mother had to come first. Gag!

I wanted to slink away from the recital before it was even over, but I didnt dare. It was possible my mom was dumb enough to have actually driven here, and there was no way I could let her drive back home in the state she was in. I had the guilty thoughtnot for the first timethat my life might improve if she got herself killed in a car wreck. I was ashamed of myself for letting the thought enter my head. Of course I didnt want my mother to die. I just wanted her not to be an alcoholic.

Ms. Morris took me aside as soon as everyone was done, and the sympathy in her eyes was almost too much to bear. Do you need any help, Dana? she asked me quietly.

I shook my head and refused to meet her gaze. No. Thank you. Ill take care of her. My face was hot again, so I made my escape as quickly as possible, avoiding the other students who wanted to either congratulate me on my brilliant performance (yeah, right!) or try to get the full scoop on my mom so they could tell all their friends.

Mom was trying to mingle with the other parents when I walked up to her. She was too out of it to pick up on the subtle youre-a-drunk-leave-me-alone vibes they were giving her. Still feeling like everyone was staring at me, I took hold of her arm.

Come on, lets get you home, I said through gritted teeth.

Dana! she practically shouted. You were wonderful! She threw her arms around me like she hadnt seen me in three years and gave me a smothering hug.

Glad you enjoyed it, I forced myself to say as I wriggled out of her hug and began heading for the door with her in tow. She didnt seem to mind being dragged across the room, so at least that was a plus. This could have been worse, I tried to tell myself.

I didnt have to ask Mom whether shed driven, because the minute we stepped outside, I could see our car, parked so crookedly it had taken up about three spaces. I said a silent prayer of thanks that she hadnt managed to kill anyone.