“Rise, everyone,” the Lady said.
All around us, the Fayte Guardians stood.
The Lady turned to Mrs. Crossey and placed her hand on the woman’s shoulder. “I owe you my gratitude as well, Master Scryer. You believed in me when you had no reason to believe. You believed in our purpose, even when it put your life at risk. I commend you, and I am grateful to you, Supreme Elder of the Windsor Fayte.”
Behind her Mr. MacDougall cleared his throat.
Mrs. Crossey seemed to blush and in a timid voice, said, “Thank you, my lady, but I am not the Supreme Elder here.”
The Lady turned to Mr. MacDougall and gave him a withering look before turning back to Mrs. Crossey. “Yes, Sylvia Crossey of the Windsor Fayte, you have earned the title and my admiration.” She turned then to gaze on each robed figure. “And I am grateful to all of you who have remained steady and true in your service as Fayte Guardians. My brother is no longer a threat to this world. And while I must leave for a time, I will return soon and often. You may again rely on me.”
She reached out to me then and touched my forehead. A tingling sensation passed through me, from that spot down to the tips of my toes. I felt lighter, happier.
I looked at her in surprise. “What was that?”
“A parting gift.”
My chest tightened. I didn’t want to say it, I didn’t want to have to, but I did. “Goodbye, my lady.” The words cracked in my throat.
She tilted her head to me as streaks of violet light wrapped around her. “Not goodbye, dear one. We shall see each other soon enough.”
I thought I could see that look of amused mischief again as she faded into the violet light.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
After the ceremony, the Fayte Guardians made their way back to the castle. I hung back, lingering at the edge of the crystal pool, trying to absorb all that had happened and marveling at my new Faytling—my own Faytling. I suppose I was one of them now. Truly one of them.
“I thought you’d be off to bed by now.”
It was Mrs. Crossey, returning from the Library, where the last stragglers were saying their goodbyes.
“I suppose I should. It’s just so much to take in.”
“I suppose it is. I’m glad you’re here, however.” She clutched her fingers and stared into the misty pool, still imbued with the Lady’s lavender glow. “Since you have fulfilled your part of our bargain, it’s time for me to fulfill mine. That is, if you still wish to learn about your parents.”
That promise seemed so long ago. Before the Gray Wood. Before Krol...
“I’ve inquired with the Elders at Balmoral,” she continued. “They safeguard the old records, and a visit may render more useful information.”
“A visit?”
One of her thin eyebrows notched higher. “I have spoken to a cook there, a Fayte. She’s in need of a temporary assistant, and I’ve recommended you.”
“Me?”
“It might help you in your search. That is what you want, isn’t it?”
But it wasn’t. Not now. What would I do without Mrs. Crossey or Marlie? I belonged here. I didn’t want to leave.
“Aren’t you pleased?” The crease between her eyebrows deepened.
“I’ve never traveled so far,” I said.
She flipped her wrist as if to bat away such a frivolous concern. “It won’t be so difficult, and you won’t be alone.”
“You would come with me?”
“No, not me. Our Balmoral visitor plans to return home tomorrow.”
“Mr. Wyck?”
A sheepishness came over her. “Yes, Mr. Wyck, if that’s what we’re still calling him. I always knew something was off with that young man, but I rather thought he was here to spy on me, not you. Well, hindsight makes fools of us all.” A mischievous glint flashed in her eye. “You don’t object to the companion, do you?”
Was she serious? “I can’t travel with a man.”
She rolled her eyes. “Such silly notions. But yes, I suppose you’re right. Perhaps if…”
My heart leapt. “If what?”
She walked to the door. “I’ll think of something. Just be at the kitchen gate at the first bell.”
“Six in the morning?” Even I could hear the irritating whine in my voice.
She faced me again. “I remember a time not so long ago when you packed your things on much shorter notice.”
I opened my mouth to argue but snapped it closed again. She was right, and she knew it. And I knew I had to go. Not because I wanted to—I didn’t. But there were questions that needed answers, now more than ever. About Krol. About my mother. How many secrets were hiding in my past?
That Mr. Wyck would be my companion on this journey, well, maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen.
~ ~ ~
Early the next morning I slipped out of my room with every one of my belongings stuffed into my carpet bag save one.
The golden locket I’d stolen from Abigail I held tightly in my gloved hand as I made my way to her door. I meant to hang it from the knob, knowing she would find it and surmise the link between its reappearance and my departure.
But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. That wasn’t who I was anymore, at least it wasn’t who I wanted to be. I tapped on the wood.
After some rustling, a sleepy Abigail cracked open the door. “Jane, for Pete’s sake. It’s so early.”
I held up the locket, its chain draped over a finger. “I want to return this. You were right, Abigail. I took it, and I’m sorry.”
She stared at it for a moment before taking it. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything. You were right to accuse me. I was…” Stupid? Jealous? I was both of those things, but instead I said, “I regret it. Perhaps one day you’ll forgive me.”
I left then. It might have been the wind outside or my own wishful thinking, but I thought I caught the soft whisper of
