“Partners?”I nearly vomited as the word escaped my lips.
“And, Fernsby—” boss said.
I perked up and tried to get myself together.
“Don’t let this be a repeat of your recent performances. You are officially on probation. If you decide to disappear for another seventy years, don’t bother returning.”
Every morsel of every treat I’d ever consumed threatened to thrust up my throat all at once.Probation?My limbs went numb.Don’t bother returning?The library was my everything. I was nothing without it, no one. I knew I needed to respond, to say that I understood and that I would not fail again, but I was fairly certain if I did, I’d vomit.
A clicking, scraping sound came from behind the desk, like a heavy vase being tilted and dragged along cement. A small shape appeared, not from the chair, but from under it. The boss wasn’t an invisible man. He was a garden gnome, and he was tottering straight for us.
“Dismissed,” said the gnome.
I stared at him, frozen in shock over everything that had just happened. I stared at his little blue ceramic hat, his little brown ceramic beard, and his little red-cheeked ceramic face.
Silas put his arm gently around my shoulder and led me out into the hall. Dazed, discombobulated, decimated, I let him. He led me into a room, clicked on the light, and shut the door.
It took me a second to realize we were in a supply closet, surrounded by shelves full of pens and paper and a mop bucket full of dirty water.
I wrenched myself away from Silas. Whatever he was up to in bringing me here, I had no patience for it.
“Are you—” he started.
“Horrified? Humiliated? What, Silas? What do you want to say? You want to grin at me and rub some more salt in my wounds?” By the time the final word left my lips, I was yelling. By the time I finished my thought, I had to bite back the tears that rose up inside of me.
He drew his brows together, almost in concern. “No.”
Ugh. I didn’t want his pity. It only made me feel worse. “Don’t worry about me,” I said. “I’m a Fernsby. We endure. See you in Inorog…or not.”
I shrugged like I didn’t care and walked away before I lost what little control I had left.
CHAPTER 5
With magical instantaneous travel at my fingertips, I could spend the final hours before my make-or-break mission anywhere I pleased. I could sip café noisette along the Seine in Paris, sun myself on the white sands of Lumahai Beach in Kauai, Hawaii, or soak in the geothermal waters of Iceland’s Blue Lagoon—though the best time to visit was after September, for the always awe-inspiring view of the Northern Lights. I could even grab a scoop of mint chocolate chip from Udderly Ice Dream in Piccadilly. But no matter the appeal, I found myself craving the comfort of home.
The identity of“home” changed for me depending on the circumstance. The library had felt like home to me before my death, but not so much since my return. My over-water cabana in the Maldives was the place I’d chosen to house my belongings. It was where I slept at night. As I contemplated my next move, I found myself drawn not to the tranquility of my cabana, but to the forest in Marshmallow—my childhood abode.
I created and stepped through the portal. Oppressive humidity struck on the other side. Even though it was filtered through branches and leaves, the sun shone brighter here than almost anywhere else I’d ever been. I stood before the tree thatwas also my mother’s house, but I paused instead of heading inside.
Why was I here?
I wanted to talk my situation out with someone, and without any living friends, that left my mother. But I’d spent my entire life trying to prove my competence to her. I highlighted my strengths and hid my weaknesses. When I fell, I shook it off, no matter how much it hurt.
After pretending for so long, could I truly be open and tell her the unfiltered truth? Probably not. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe I should just go to Piccadilly and get that ice cream.
Movement in a bush by the street caught my eye. Had Fernando already spotted me? It could be a squirrel or cat. The only other reasonable option was a buru, but whatever was in that bush wasn’t on the attack. Plus, the air lacked the buru’s signature stench.
Curious, I approached the bush, watching for any sign of fur or other indication of what might be hiding inside.
“Fernando?” I peered down between the branches and found a pair of big brown eyes staring back up at me.
“Ahhh!”The bush hider’s shrill scream shot straight through my ear drums. If a fire alarm and a banshee had a baby, it would make that exact sound.
I took a startled step back and reached into my bag for a weapon to defend myself. Whoever was hiding in there was definitelynotFernando. Fernando had one eye, not two. And he would never ever scream like that.
The shrub rustled. Leaves broke loose and fell to the ground. A round woman with black hair tumbled out and rolled across the grass in an awkward ball. She shook herself off, then scrambled on hands and knees toward the street.
Curious, I followed her.