Her mouth hung agape as she took my books. I didn’t realize I had accidentally put one of my art portfolios in the stack until she opened it and leaves of my most recent illustrations began to flutter, threatening to fly away on the wind.
“Oh!” I said, and reached for it. “Sorry. These need to stay with me.”
Elle handed me the portfolio and I held it close to my chest as she continued to admire the books.
“Thank you, Miss Clem,” she said in a reverent tone. As she hurried inside to share the news with her sisters, Spruce Fielding appeared on the threshold.
“I’m afraid we cannot pay you for the books.”
“I don’t want payment,” I replied. “I give them freely to your daughters.”
When Spruce merely stood there, blank with surprise, I bade him good day. I was striding to the gate when he hurried after me.
“Miss Clem! Wait a moment, please.”
I tarried, wiping a smudge of charcoal from the cover of the portfolio. “Yes, Mr. Fielding?”
“We’re very sorry to hear what happened last night,” he said, and removed his cap, wringing it in his hands. “Your father is an excellent warden, someone we trusted. And we’re sad to see both of you go.”
“Thank you, Mr. Fielding.”
“Must you leave? You can continue to reside here,” he said. “In fact, we could build you a cottage on my lands, if you like.”
This caught me by surprise. It only made my tears surge, and I at last realized why my father and I couldn’t stay in Hereswith, why Papa wanted to leave so swiftly. “That’s very kind of you, Mr. Fielding. But my father and I feel it’s best to leave at once, so Mr. Vesper can begin to settle in and get to know all of you.”
Spruce nodded, but he didn’t look convinced. “I understand. But if you do change your mind . . . you and your father and Imonie will always have a home here.”
The emotion welled in my throat. I smiled at him as I passed through the gate.
It took me a moment to cast my charm again, to go unnoticed as I walked through the heart of Hereswith, back through pockets of gossip and dismay and curiosity. I had just come upon the square when a strange, long scuff on the cobblestones caught my attention. It was a thin mark, as if caused by the tip of something sharp, and it led to a wagon parked not far from me.
I paused, chilled when I recalled Elle’s nightmare. The knight had let the point of his sword drag over the stones. He had walked to the wagon where Elle had been hiding. Surely, this scuff mark was just a coincidence.
I crouched down to study it closer, rushing my fingers over the mark on the cobbles. I looked at the wagon, and I began to imagine perhaps the knight had been here last night, walking the streets and hidden beneath the water. But that would mean two different nightmares had descended last night—Archie’s and Elle’s—and that had never occurred. At least, not as far as I knew.
Before I could let that revelation unfold, someone tripped over me.
The impact knocked me down, and my charm of stealth broke as my portfolio went flying. Leaves of my drawings danced on the breeze, and I rushed to gather them before they were carried farther into the market. And through the cascade of parchment, I saw him kneeling on the cobblestones, also hurrying to gather my stray illustrations.
Phelan.
My face warmed when I saw him holding my drawings, these intimate pieces of my heart. He paused to study one, transfixed, and I snatched it from his hands.
He scowled, lips pursed as if he wanted to say something snide until he realized it was me and his expression softened. “Forgive me, Miss Madigan. I didn’t see you.”
I made no response but folded my now wrinkled papers back into my portfolio. When I continued to walk up the street, he rushed after me.
“May I walk with you?”
“I suppose,” I said, and quickened my pace. He noticed and kept perfect stride with me, and all the people of Hereswith seemed to freeze, watching the two of us pass by.
“I know you must think very ill of my brother and me,” Phelan began, slightly out of breath as the street took a steep turn. “But I do hope in time that you will come to understand why this happened.”
His words infuriated me. I halted and spun. “I think I already understand, Mr. Vesper. You and your brother were raised wanting nothing. Two rich, spoiled brats of the aristocracy. And now that you are grown, you wanted a town to be warden of, so you rolled a die and landed on Hereswith. Quite a challenge, I might add, since it’s rather far from your home and resides in the shadow of mountains. But I commend you both for your noble sense of duty and obligation, and while I don’t think you will fit in well here, I hope I’m wrong, for the sake of the residents.”
The shock in his eyes and the flush of his face were delicious to behold. I smiled as I continued on my way, thinking he would leave me alone. But he was far more stubborn than I anticipated and caught up to me again.
“I’ll have you know, Miss Madigan, that I’m not staying in Hereswith.”
“Oh, I see! So you assisted your brother in stealing the town and now you are abandoning it?”
“I have responsibilities elsewhere,” he said in a near growl. As if I should care.
“Then don’t let me keep you from them,” I said, my father’s cottage coming into view. Phelan relinquished me, coming to an abrupt halt in the street, and I walked the rest of the way home on my own.
But it felt like I was treading an endless nightmare, and it would end if only I could wake.
8
I didn’t know where Papa planned to take Imonie and me, and the uncertainty gave me a stomachache as I waited in the yard, holding a mewling Dwindle in my arms. The wagon was parked at our gate, packed to the brim with boxes and crates and burlap sacks of our possessions. Most of the furniture remained behind in the cottage, as did the framed artwork and the endless pots of plants, all of which Papa used a scouring charm over, to ensure no trace of us remained. I had ensorcelled nearly everything from my room into one bag, using Mama’s shrinking spell.
A crowd had gathered to see us off, most of them dear friends who had known me for half my life. Lilac Westin brought a bag of pastries, her eyes rimmed red. The Fieldings were there, the girls holding my books. And to my great shock, Mazarine. The disguised troll wore a modest dress of thick brocade and wielded an umbrella, to shield her skin and hair from the sunshine.
Papa was the last to emerge from our cottage. He carried the book of nightmares, and I watched as he delivered the tome to Lennox Vesper, who waited by a patch of daisies in the yard, Phelan at his side. My father gave him the book and the key to the cottage, and it was officially done and over. Papa was no longer warden of Hereswith, and we were homeless.
I buried my face in Dwindle’s fur, to hide the tears that burned my eyes. I felt Imonie’s hand on my shoulder, and her attempt to comfort me only made my emotions spin harder. I could feel the weeping in my chest, threatening to rise.
Oh gods, I thought. Please don’t let me cry here. Let me at least get out of sight of the Vespers.
Despite my resolve, a sound slipped from me. The strangled sound of a girl trying to swallow a sob, and halfway succeeding.
Dwindle let out a disgruntled meow. I was squeezing her too hard, and when I lifted my face, my nose was running. A few tears had escaped, and I hurried to dash them away before anyone but Imonie could notice.