Surely I was mistaken. The vehicle was quite nondescript. Plenty of people drove black sedans, and this one most likely belonged to Ms. Aldea. Silas had no reason to be here now. I’d purposefully gone out of my way yesterday to make sure we didn’t cross paths. While Imogen and I had gone to the museum, Silas would have started here.
With a succinct knock on the door, I pushed down my concerns and waited.
It was Silas who answered.
A grimace lined his face, its intensity slightly deeper than usual. Perhaps I was finally getting to him the way he got to me.
“Speak of the devil.” He looked me up and down—taking in the dirt and burns on my clothing, which of course was the same clothing I had worn the day prior.
I glared back at him, daring him to comment. When he didn’t, I said, “Always in the way, aren’t you, Sil—”
He stole my words and my breath, with a hand around my waist and a sweeping twirl, pulling me inside, and tohisside.I recoiled, an immediate, visceral response to his touch, but he held tight, bent down and whispered in my ear.
“Play along.”
I was about to tell him he could shove his demands straight up his derrière when his grip softened and he whispered one more word.
“Please.”
The civility likely caused him great pain, as I had never heard him ask nicely for anything. I froze, shocked into momentary submission and perverse delight.
A tiny woman approached us. She couldn’t be more than four and a half feet tall. Her ears pointed at the ends, and her eyes were completely white—no irises or pupils to be seen. If I had to guess her race, I would assume one quarter human, though the rest I couldn’t say for sure. Deep wrinkles set into her forehead, and white hair puffed around her head like a dandelion about to seed.
“You’re really his wife?” she asked, hands on her hips.
Silas’s fingers twitched on my side, flexing involuntarily at the wordwife.I had two options—one, tell her the truth. Or, two—play along. If Silas was pretending we were married, he must bereallydesperate.
“Is that what he told you?” I asked.
“It is. But I don’t trust men. If you own this one, and promise to punish his brazenness after, I’ll forgive his impertinence.”
“You want me to claim ownershipandpromise to punish him,” I said, stealing a glance up at Silas.
His throat worked, and he squeezed his eyes shut. I imagined he was praying. I imagined he was looking ahead to the years I could torment him for this.
“All right,” I said. “I promise to punish him swiftly and severely.”
The woman smiled. “Very well. Come, join me for tea.”
I followed her and sat in one of two chairs in the parlor. A small table and tea service was set between them. The wallpaper was classic in style, as was all of the furniture—details I appreciated. Silas stepped beside me and gripped onto my chair.
The woman sat across from me and began pouring two cups of tea. “I am Edwina Aldea. You’re from the library, sent to retrieve my amulet, are you not?”
“I am,” I said.
Silas cleared his throat in a quite pointed manner. It seemed he wanted me to make thatIawe,but that wasn’t going to happen.
“Lily Fernsby,” I said. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Very good,” Ms. Aldea said, and offered me a cup of what smelled like oolong. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well. Please call me Edwina.”
I accepted the tea, and took a sip. It was gentle like oolong, with notes of rose water, cardamom, and citrus. “Lovely.”
Edwina smiled with genuine warmth. I expected her to ask about the state of my clothing, but she seemed uninterested in doing so, which was a nice surprise.
“What can you tell me about the amulet?” I asked.
She reached into the table drawer, pulled out a photograph, and set it between us. The amulet appeared to be a flat disk on a thick chain. The coloring was unclear, as the image had been taken with a black and white camera. In the center of the disk was an imprinted marking of a bulbous tree with a small mass of branches coming out of the top.It looked just like my mother’s house.