In an instant, she came to a stop.
A crossroads.
Which path should she take? Which path would keep her safe? Which...
A groggy moan came from the ground, just near Poppy’s feet. She looked down to find a man, flat on his back, staring up at the darkened sky in fear.
She placed a hand on her pounding heart and...
Poppy’s eyes opened to find her bedchamber awash in morning sunlight. Her hand fell away from her heart, where she’d been clutching her nightrail in an unconscious death-grip.
“A crossroads,” she breathed out as the last vestiges of her nightmare faded from memory and back into the realm of dreams.
Great-Aunt Alora’s words from the night before echoed in Poppy’s ears as the memories of the night came crashing back over her. She hadn’t dreamed all of it, had she? The glowing blue light and the crystal box? The warmth that had radiated through her as it merged with her soul?
Poppy shook her head. No, no. She hadn’t imagined any of that. She still felt the magical light within her, just beneath the surface, warming everything from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. It had all actually happened. Of that she was entirely certain.
Great-Aunt Alora said they’d begin work this morning, in secret of course. After all, she and Laurel had promised not to let Papa know any of this. Now that morning had come, Poppy could not wait to get started.
She leapt from bed, called for her maid, quickly bathed, and rushed through the rest of her morning ablutions as though it was a race she was determined to win. Dressed for the day, she hurried to the breakfast room and halted just inside the threshold when she realized the room was already occupied by her stepmother and two younger half-sisters. But, of course, it was already occupied. The rest of her family usually enjoyed breakfast together. Today would be no different for them.
“...still go see the new litter of kittens in the stables today, Mama?” Bella, the youngest, sliced a sausage on her plate.
“After you’ve finished your French lessons with Miss Clayton.” Caroline, Poppy’s stepmother, looked up from her baked eggs, toward the threshold, and smiled at her in earnest. “Good morning, Poppy!”
“Morning.” Poppy stepped fully into the room, wondering where Laurel and their great-aunt were at that moment. Certainly, the two of them hadn’t begun without her somewhere else, had they? “I thought Laurel would be here already.” She settled into a spot at the table and gestured for the footman to bring her a bit of tea.
Georgie giggled. “She’s still snoring. I could hear her all night down the corridor.”
This sent Bella into a fit of giggles of her own as she looked at Poppy. “Youwere snoring like a banshee too!”
“Georgianna and Isabella!” Caroline sat straighter in her seat as she reprimanded her daughters. “This is hardly an appropriate topic of conversation for young ladies of your breeding.”
“Sorry, Mama,” the pair said in unison, though neither looked chastised in the least.
The footman, to his credit, schooled his expression into one of nonchalance as he poured a bit of tea in Poppy’s cup. She suspected he was biting back a smile, however. He’d probably fall into a fit of laughter once he was away from the family, and Poppy couldn’t really blame him. If she’d been in his place, she’d want to laugh too. But she wasn’t in his place, she was inherplace and with two of the most dreadful younger sisters in existence. A plague would be a more welcome companion.
After all, Poppy didnotsnore! She had never snored, not one night of her life. It was a ridiculous thing to even suggest. Laurel didn’t snore either for that matter. That was...
Wait.
...Had they both snored last night? Some aftereffect of the magic, perhaps? Goodness, Poppy hoped not. Possessing magic was one thing to get accustomed to, but snoring all night like a wild banshee could not be permitted to continue. She’d have to ask Great-Aunt Alora if there was some magical way to prevent such an occurrence in the future. Certainly her aunt...
A flash of blue light filled Poppy’s vision, and the breakfast room was gone in the blink of an eye.
Poppy found herself in Great-Aunt Alora’s bedchamber. The old woman laid motionlessly in the middle of her four-poster. Hers eyes were open, staring at the ceiling above, but she didn’t seem to be awake. A panicked Laurel stood at the side of the bed and she reached a tentative hand toward their great-aunt’s neck. Less than a second later, Laurel wrenched her hand away from the old woman in horror.
Fear coursed through Poppy, and her heart pounded in her chest.
“Poppy?” Her stepmother’s concerned voice brought Poppy back to the breakfast room.
Goodness! What had she just seen?
Poppy found three pairs of troubled blue eyes trained on her, and she looked away, unable to meet anyone’s gaze. Freshly spilled tea stained the table linens before her.
“My dear.” Caroline pushed out of her seat and crossed the room to touch a hand to Poppy’s brow. “Are you feeling well?”
The touch to her brow brought the vision of Laurel touching Great-Aunt Alora’s neck rushing back to Poppy’s mind. Goodness! Was the old woman all right?
