“What does your sister think?”
It’s a struggle to maintain my composure at the mention of Amelie. Mother has no idea what has happened to her. Has no idea where she is or whose thumb she’s under. The same questions from yesterday pound at my head.What if she doesn’t come to the trial?
I force a look of nonchalance. “You know how she is, Mother. So long as a favorable marriage is an option, she’ll be happy. I’m sure the sheer number of eligible bachelors on the mainland will be more than enough to keep her spirits from sinking too low.”
Mother holds my gaze but gives no other sign that she can see through my ruse. “Perhaps you’re right.”
I approach the cell and take Mother’s hands through the bars, entwining our arms. It’s as close as we can get to a hug. “As long as we have you, we will get through this.”
She nods.
We shed a few tears as we break apart, and I try not to crumble as Lorelei and I return to the carriage. Behind the closed doors, the two of us maintain silence, and the carriage rolls into motion. Lorelei says nothing about what I did to the bars or gives any indication she’d been listening to our conversation. But she had to have seen and heard everything. I can feel it in her silence, in her burning stare.
I lean back in my seat, analyzing the conversation with my mother forwards, sideways, and back again. No matter what conclusions I try to establish, one question repeats again and again.
Where in the blazing iron is my scientific explanation for all of this?
11
Ihave magic.
I havefiremagic.
The concept isn’t any easier to comprehend now than it was at my mother’s cell. I stand at the window in Mr. Meeks’ parlor, chewing a nail as I stare out at the trees surrounding Mr. Meeks’ property.
Lorelei’s soft footsteps come up behind me. “Are you all right?”
I shrug. “As all right as I can be.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“What’s there to talk about?” I turn to face her.
Her expression is hesitant, a look I’ve seen her wear around Aspen but rarely with me. “There’s a lot to talk about. Your mother. Her trial.” She nibbles her bottom lip. “What you did at her cell.”
“You saw.”
She nods. “If you want to talk—”
I skirt around her and walk to the middle of the room. “I don’t want to talk.”
“But I know about magic. I don’t personally utilize fire, but I can help you make sense of it.”
Part of me wants to smile. She’s come to know me well if she understands that making sense of things is my primary aim. Still, I’m not ready to verbalize what I experienced. Not when it matters so little considering I’ll be leaving the isle, magic, and these strange powers behind so soon.
I open my mouth to give her an excuse when the parlor door opens.
In walks Mr. Meeks with a tray of tea and cookies. He sets it on the tea table, then faces me with a warm smile. “I thought you might want some refreshments.”
“Thank you kindly,” I say, hoping my words don’t carry the turmoil I’m hiding.
He nods, then turns to Lorelei. “I apologize, miss, but I admit I don’t know what refreshments your kind desire.”
She looks from him to the tea table. “Tea and cookies are fine.” Her tone is brusque, reminding me of how she spoke to me when we first met. I bristle, hoping Mr. Meeks doesn’t take offense, but he doesn’t seem perturbed in the least.
He takes a few steps closer to her. “Are you implying the fae eat human food?”
“Seelie fae prefer human food, yes. We are also fond of fae fruit and wine, though, and that goes for the unseelie too.”
