“They are. They will paint the sunset as well. It’s their job.”
“Beautiful,” she says, her voice trembling with emotion as she watches a world of beauty unfurl itself to her and welcome her inside.
“How do you feel?”
She wipes a tear that has escaped from her eye, the salt of it stinging her soft skin. She thought perhaps that she would feel heavier in this moment—cursed, trapped, even damned.
But she does not. Her feelings could not be more opposite.
“Whole,” she says. “I feel finally whole.”
Althea pulls her into a soft embrace, the powdery scent of her hair masking that of the honeyed air for a moment. “You were born for this, darling. Wait until you see Innisfree again after all these years. There are many landvættir there who rely on you to care for them and their home, just as you will rely on them for protection and divination.” She pulls back and takes her granddaughter’s hand. “Shall we return to say our goodbyes?”
“Might Lunasia come with us?” As Marigold makes her request, Lunasia leaves her palm and flies behind her.
“She is the spirit guardian of this meadow, Marigold. The same way that you will serve as a guardian of Innisfree.”
“I see. So, the goodbyes have already begun.”
Althea gives her a sympathetic look. “I’m afraid it will get worse before it gets better, but I can promise you it is worth it.”
Marigold smiles. “I believe you.”
Chapter Four
Frankie, breathless and drenched in sweat, meets them halfway through the woods on their walk back to the estate.
He places his hands on the top of his head and stands very straight to support the flow of air to his lungs. His blue eyes squint in the morning light. “We have a slight problem.”
Marigold scrunches her nose. “Mother?”
“Mother.”
The three of them move as quickly as they can to get back to the estate. Once inside, Marigold sees Aster and her father getting scolded by her mother.
“… after Iclearlysaid that she should never—”
“Mother,” Marigold says. Her mother gasps as she looks up.
“Marigold, tell me you did not do this,” she says, rushing over and taking Marigold’s face in her hands.
Her mother surveys her, and Marigold can see the moment that her mother realizes it is too late.
A darkness comes over her mother. “How could you?”
“I had to,” she says. She does not turn away. She does not look down. She stands tall and proud and certain that she did the right thing for herself.
“And you?” her mother says as she turns her head to Althea like a viper. “You betrayed me. Every person in this room betrayed me.”
“You were trying to control a fate that was not yours to decide, Raina,” Althea says, taking a step toward her daughter.
“Don’t you dare come near me right now, Mother. I mean it. You clearly understood my position on the matter. You knew why I forbid this to happen. And yet, you did it anyway, with no regard for my feelings or Marigold’s safety.” Her mother steps back, gasping, as if she is drowning in her own words.
“Her safety is the exact reason why I am here, Raina. You think that after I’m gone, if Marigold had no access to her magic, she would stay safe for her entire life? You think that it is a coincidence that your estate has remained hidden from the Ash Witch all these years? No. It was me. It was magic. Always magic.”
Her mother’s hands turn to fists at her side. “You’re lying. I protected her myself.”
“I am not. And you know that I am not. You forget, Raina, that you are not powerful like you used to be. You gave it up. That was your choice, and yet you continue to believe that you can protect her from evil on your own,” Althea says as she moves into the sitting room toward a gallery wall of Lord Claude’s paintings. “The way a protection ritual works—and pay attention, Marigold; consider this the start of your training—is by the use of ancient runes. When the runes are placed, I can channel magic through them.” She reaches up to one of the smaller frames and takes it from the wall, turning it around to reveal the back of the canvas where there is an intricate arrow pointing from corner to corner.
