She didn't want to tell Tuck that she could understand Norah's fear. Theirs was a scary world and not everyone could accept. She'd heard so many stories of humans who couldn't handle it, who had learned about gods and gone crazy or killed themselves or killed others. The human mind wasn't always built for this knowledge.
"Of course that killed you," Marian told him. "That's your kids." Tuck with kids: Marian could picture it so easily. He'd always been good with children.
Marian herself had only ever had one child, back in the early 1800s. It had been an unwanted creature she'd never asked for, given to her unwillingly, but even with such terrible beginnings she had loved that little boy. Despite the fact that motherhood never felt like it sat quite right on her bones, Marian would have done anything for her son, would have fought and killed anything that tried to take him from her. As it was, the thing that ripped him away from her was not something Marian could take up arms against, but a bout of measles that came when he was six years old.
"I've never tracked anyone who didn't want to be found before," Marian said, wanting her skills not to be overstated, "but I do have some ideas where to start."