The green stone caught my eye as I crossed the room to grab my jacket. Even buried in a blanket, it radiated energy. Shivering, I scooped up the blanket and stuffed it into my satchel. I stopped in the kitchen for an apple and a hunk of bread. In this anxious state, I doubted my stomach could handle anything more substantial.
I surveyed the dim street before slipping out the door. Could Louvaine’s search have brought her close yet? I would have preferred to locate the deposed mistress of fairies last night, but the hunt for her remote cottage prison would be challenging enough during the day, impossible under cover of darkness.
I darted across the road to where I’d stowed the motorized carriage behind the barn. Hoisting myself into the driver’s seat, I rubbed my eyes. Hopefully, I could drive safely on only a few hours’ rest. At least the primary obstacles on this route would be trees, not carriages drawn by unpredictable horses.
The path leading into the thick tree cover at the edge of town opened before me like a gateway to the underworld. Only an occasional ray of sparse daylight penetrated the deep shadows. Stop it, Rae. You’ve never been scared of this forest before. The carriage plunged through the trees, bouncing across the dirt until my teeth chattered. Once I’d wound along several curves and could no longer see the forest entrance, I slowed to the lowest speed. No use breaking the carriage—or myself—when there was no sign of pursuit. Was it possible Louvaine hadn’t noticed the stone’s absence yet? Or were there others she suspected might steal it?
A plump squirrel darted into view. I jumped, nearly wrenching one of the carriage’s levers out of place. Several deep breaths did little to slow my rocketing heart rate. If only I knew more about fairy magic, to have some sense of the danger I’d placed myself in. I pictured the fairies’ delicate faces, the way their wings had brushed against my cheek like a kiss from a shy child.
Whatever the danger, I was doing the right thing.
Farther into the tangles of reaching branches and twisted undergrowth, I spotted a mossy rock. My breath hitched in my throat, and I yanked the carriage to a stop. Almost square, with a dip in the middle and one copper corner adding variation to the gray. The rock from the fairies’ picture. No amount of swallowing could settle my heart back in my chest. I checked the carriage’s extra brake, then hopped down. The former mistress of fairies wasn’t likely to be held captive right along the main path.
I wandered amid the thicker trees, each rustle in the underbrush swiveling my head like a pendulum. More sunlight streamed between the leaves, and my feet grew itchy with sweat. I clutched my satchel tighter and wiggled my toes in my boots. How much longer should I search before concluding I’d chosen the wrong section of the forest?
A whiff of smoke made my nose wrinkle. I squinted, scanning for a trace of gray in the air. Either I was about to get caught in a forest fire, or I was nearing the cabin. I prayed for the latter.
A chimney peeked out from among the trees, and I broke into a run. At the clearing, I pressed a fist to my mouth to cover my squeal. The very cottage the fairies had shown me—knotted logs, rickety porch, and all. After picking my way up the sturdiest-looking portions of the front stoop, I rapped at the door. What if she couldn’t get to the door? What if she wasn’t even alive? I gritted my teeth to contain my shudder. A ghost couldn’t light her own fire.
Just as I raised my fist to rap again, the door swung open.
“Hello?” I blinked as I strode forward, willing my eyes to adjust to the cottage’s dark interior. “Please forgive the intrusion. But I’ve come to help.”
“How very kind of you.”
“I . . .” My words died in my throat as the mistress of fairies—the current mistress of fairies—stepped into view. “What are you doing here?” My voice hovered at a whisper, as though I could still keep my mission a secret.
“I might ask you the same question.” She slammed the door behind me.
“But you—you live at the palace.”
“So I do. I trust you know the very chamber.” Louvaine adjusted her beaded top hat, as though we were chatting about the weather over tea. “But a very important item of mine went missing last night. And while I couldn’t imagine who might’ve stolen it, I had a very good guess where they might take it.” Raising her eyes to me, she tilted her head. “I was so proud of you at the ball, gliding across the floor in the arms of the prince. But it seems my fairies made a poor choice after all, ungrateful girl. Did they put you up to this?”
“No, but—” I craned my neck to see around her. There, tied to a chair in the corner of the room, sat the fairies’ deposed mistress. Her clothes shabby, her face wrinkled and worn, but still sitting tall. I ran to her and knelt by her side. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to cause you any trouble. I only wanted to help.”
She leaned close to my ear. “You must call to them.” Her gaze angled to my pack.
“Call to them?”
“Now. Hurry.” She raised her voice. “Could it be you’ve made so many enemies you can’t even predict which will strike, Louvaine?”
“Not a word from you.” Louvaine marched over to us and kicked her predecessor’s bound feet.
Their argument rose in volume. I had to make use of the distraction, but how did the stone operate? Unwrapping it would be too obvious, and I hadn’t observed a single button or switch. I buried my face in my satchel. “Come to me, fairies. Please. Come save your former mistress.”
“Up.” A tug on my shoulder wrenched me to standing. “I wouldn’t bother befriending old Hattie, here, since her life won’t extend much longer. In fact, you’ll be the one to end it.”
“Me?” I stepped back until the wall blocked my retreat. “Why do you need me, when you could’ve already taken care of it yourself?”
“A curse of the fairy magic.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “If I were to kill a mistress of fairies, the fairy magic would refuse to respond to me. Otherwise I would’ve ended her ages ago.” She heaved a sigh. “Instead, I had to fake her death, remove her from the palace, and care for her myself.”
I edged toward the door. “I have no intention of hurting her, and you can’t force me.”
“I doubt I’ll need to.” Louvaine pulled a dagger from a sheath hidden in the folds of her layered skirt.
“If you kill me, I’ll be no use to you.” I willed my wobbly legs to keep moving.
She traced a finger along the blade. “Many persuasive tactics wouldn’t render you incapable of performing my task.”
I gulped. Please let her be bluffing.
“Besides, all you need to do is serve her a cup of tea and help her drink. Nothing the least bit gruesome about that.” Louvaine crossed to a pot strung over the hearth and raised a ladle of frothy liquid. Poison?
I raced to the door and tugged at the handle. Nothing. My mind galloped liked the pistons of a steamship. No lock, no barrier. How did it open?
My nemesis laughed and selected a teacup from the cupboard. “Just how simple do you think I am? Dear Hattie could’ve escaped years ago if one could merely open the door.”
One of my remaining hairpins could pick a lock if I could find a lock to use it on. I mentally reviewed the tools in my satchel. Could I remove the hinges? Or was it held shut by some form of magic?
“Time to stop playing around.” A knife tip poked at my back. “Hattie needs her tea.”
My shoulders drooped. I’m so sorry Hattie. Fairies. I’ve failed you completely.