The light felt wrong when Morwenna opened her eyes.
It took her a moment to understand why. The nursery was just as she remembered it. Tall windows stood behind heavy velvet drapes, the carved bedposts reached toward the high ceiling, and her trainers lay in a messy heap on the worn rug where she had left them the night before.
Cinder rested at her feet, his warm body rising and falling with each steady breath. The fire had burned down to embers, glowing a deep orange behind the black iron grate.
But the light was gold, not gray.
Morwenna lay still for a while, watching the sunlight move across the ceiling and illuminate the intricate plasterwork. It was morning, but the light felt thick and heavy. It was already late morning. She had slept past dawn, past breakfast, and past the quiet hours when the manor first began to stir.
Cinder lifted his head as soon as she moved. His russet ears pointed forward, and his tail thumped slowly against the blankets.
Morwenna climbed out of bed, her feet meeting the cold floorboards. Her legs still felt heavy, and the soreness from yesterday's adventures lingered deep in her muscles. She didn't care. The moment her feet touched the floor, she was already moving, her nightshirt fluttering around her knees.
The corridor was empty and silent. The portraits were awake, their painted eyes following her as she hurried past. Edmund looked up from the heavy, leather-bound book in his frame.
"You are up late," he remarked, his voice carrying through the narrow corridor.
Morwenna didn't stop to answer. She was already running, her bare feet making almost no sound against the runner.
. . .
The morning room smelled strongly of buttered toast and Earl Grey tea. The long wooden table had been only partly cleared. Plates were stacked at one end, and the floral teapot still sat in the middle, a thin curl of steam rising from its spout.
Jane sat with a cup held between both hands, her red hair catching the sunlight. Jack stood by the window, reading the Daily Prophet, the silver streak in his dark hair shining in the light.
Aldric occupied his usual chair near the hearth, a thick volume balanced on his knee. Seraphina sat beside him with her hands folded quietly in her lap, her knitting nowhere in sight.
Saoirse sprawled across the settee, one leg hanging over the cushioned arm and a piece of cold toast in her hand.
Morwenna stopped in the doorway, breathing quickly with excitement. Everyone turned toward her.
"I went to London!"
Saoirse sat up, making the settee springs creak.
"We know, little monster."
"I saw a bus!"
Seraphina set her cup down with a soft click.
"You told us last night."
Morwenna either didn't hear her or didn't think it mattered. She hurried to the empty chair beside her mother and climbed onto it, gripping the polished seat for support. Cinder followed her into the room and settled beneath the table, his nose pointed toward the floorboards.
"The buildings were so tall! They were taller than the manor!"
She stretched her arms as far apart as she could, reaching until her fingertips tingled.
Aldric closed his book, keeping one finger between the pages to mark his place.
"Taller than the manor?"
"Much taller! They went up and up." She pointed toward the ceiling, her green eyes wide. "Like that, but more. So much more!"
Seraphina smiled.
"That's very tall indeed."
"And the swings!" Morwenna grabbed the edge of the table, her fingers curling around the mahogany. "You push with your legs, and you go higher and higher. Then your stomach goes up, and the sky goes down, and you are flying!"
She turned to Saoirse, eager to make sure her aunt understood.
"You said it was like flying. It was like flying!"
Saoirse grinned, her teeth white against her tanned skin.
"I told you it would be."
"And the slide!" Morwenna continued, speaking faster as the memories came rushing back. "You climb up the metal steps, and at the top you can see everything. Then you sit down and push off, and it's so fast! The wind blows in your face, and suddenly you are at the bottom, and you have to do it again."
She looked at Jack, wanting him to appreciate the most important part.
"I went four times."
Jack folded the newspaper and tucked it beneath his arm.
"Four times?"
"I raced a boy. He was five. I won four times, but I let him win the fifth."
Saoirse snorted, a lock of dark hair falling into her eyes.
"You let him win?"
"He was sad."
Aldric's mouth twitched.
"That was kind of you."
Morwenna shrugged and reached for a piece of toast. She took a bite, barely noticing that it had gone cold and chewy.
"The round thing was the best."
She chewed and swallowed before continuing.
"You hold on to the bars, and it spins and spins until everything goes blurry. Then you let go, but the world keeps spinning even after you stop."
She paused, remembering the strange sensation.
"That one made my stomach feel like Apparition. But better."
Jane reached out and brushed Morwenna's messy white hair away from her forehead.
"You did all of that yesterday."
"Yes!" Morwenna took another bite of toast, her eyes still bright with excitement. "And tomorrow we go again?"
Seraphina leaned forward, her expression becoming more serious.
"Not London tomorrow. We are visiting the mundane branch. The Keith village."
Morwenna paused with the toast halfway to her mouth.
She remembered her father telling her about the village months ago, when they had sat beside the lake. It was where the Squibs lived, the members of their family who carried Keith blood but couldn't perform magic.
"When?"
Seraphina glanced at Jack.
He set the newspaper aside on a small table.
"Tomorrow morning. We will leave before dawn, just as we did yesterday. Cousin William has offered us the main house while we stay there."
Morwenna frowned slightly.
"The main house?"
"The house where the head of the mundane branch lives," Jack explained. "They are the ones who know about us and help connect the magical and mundane branches of our family."
She remembered that part, too. The mundane Keiths helped the magical family with matters in the ordinary world. They were the bridge between the two branches.
"William has arranged for another family member to meet us at the Apparition site," Jack continued. "They will drive us to Thornwell."
Morwenna tilted her head, her white hair falling over one shoulder.
"Drive?"
"In a car," Jane explained gently. "It's different from the buses you saw yesterday. It's smaller and carries fewer people. Someone drives it to take you where you need to go."
Morwenna thought about the cars she had seen through the café window. The buses had been large and red, while the cars came in all sorts of shapes and colors. She had watched them moving in long, orderly lines along the street.
"We will stay for a month," Jack said. "After that, we will go to London and stay at the family house there."
Morwenna turned toward him, her curiosity returning.
"The London house?"
"A house the family keeps in the city for longer visits."
She nodded, filing the information away even though she didn't fully understand how everything would work.
Jane touched her hand.
"You will have plenty of time to explore once we get there. For today, you can pack your things."
"Pack?"
"Choose what you want to bring with you. Some clothes and a few things from your room. Whatever you would like to have nearby."
Morwenna looked down at her bare feet beneath the table. In her excitement, she had forgotten to put on her socks.
She slid off the chair, her feet sinking into the rug.
"Tilly! I need to tell Tilly!"
Before anyone could answer, she was already running toward the kitchen.
The kitchen was warm and humid, with a fire crackling in the large hearth and filling the room with the sweet scent of applewood.
Tilly stood at the long wooden counter, a heavy ledger open in front of him as he checked the household supplies. Two other elves worked at the deep sink, their hands moving quickly over a stack of copper pots.
Morwenna burst through the door.
"Tilly!"
The elf spun around, his large eyes widening. His ears shot up, flattened briefly, then rose again.
"Little miss! You are awake! Tilly was worried. Tilly came to check, but the mistress said to let you sleep, and Tilly..."
"I went to London!"
Tilly's mouth snapped shut. His eyes seemed to grow even larger.
"There was a bus!" Morwenna exclaimed, stretching her arms as wide as she could. "A big red bus! It was bigger than the carriage and carried so many people. There were more people on it than there are in the Great Hall at dinner!"
Tilly's ears trembled.
"So many people?"
"And there were cars! So many cars! They went very fast, and they made so much noise. The whole street was full of them!"
She grabbed the edge of the flour-dusted counter and pulled herself up on her toes, barely managing to keep her feet flat on the stone floor.
"And there was a park! It had swings. You sit on them and push with your legs, and you go higher and higher into the sky!"
Her words came faster as her excitement grew. Tilly listened intently, his ears twitching and his eyes fixed on her face. The other elves had stopped washing the pots. They stood by the sink with soapy water dripping from their hands, watching her.
"And there was a slide!" Morwenna continued. "A silver slide that was taller than the greenhouse. You climb up the ladder, push off, and go so fast!"
She took a quick breath.
"I went four times."
Tilly pressed his small hands together.
"Four times. The little miss went four times."
"I raced a boy. He was five, and I won!"
Tilly made a soft sound that might have been a laugh or a sob.
Morwenna released the counter and headed toward the door. At the threshold, she stopped and looked back at him.
"We are going again tomorrow. To a village. The Keith village. Dada says we will stay there for a few days, then go to London again for a long time."
Tilly's ears drooped.
"A long time."
Morwenna turned around and hurried back to him. She reached up to pat his hand. His skin felt dry and warm, and his long fingers trembled slightly beneath hers.
"I will come back," she promised.
Tilly nodded, his large eyes shining in the firelight.
"Tilly knows."
Morwenna left him at the counter and went to find the portraits.
The gallery was long and quiet. Morning sunlight streamed through the tall, narrow windows in slanted golden bars, illuminating the dust floating in the air. The portraits watched her pass, their painted eyes following the small, white-haired girl across the polished wooden floor.
Edmund was the first she visited. She stopped before his frame, where the dark tones of his painted library seemed even deeper in the morning light.
"I went to London," she announced.
Edmund lowered his book, resting it against the velvet sleeve of his painted robe.
"So I have heard."
"There were swings and a slide, and a round thing that spins until the world becomes a blur."
"So I have heard."
Morwenna looked up at him. He was smiling, just a small curve of his lips, but it was there.
"I will be gone for a long time."
Her fingers twisted the hem of her shirt.
"A few days at the village, then London for the rest of the time."
Edmund closed his book with a silent thud.
"A long time for you, perhaps. Not so long for us. We have watched many seasons pass from these walls. We will still be here when you return."
Morwenna nodded, taking comfort in his words before moving to the next frame.
Isolde was already watching her. Her sharp features seemed softer than usual in the warm light, and her vibrant blue gown appeared to shimmer as the sunlight touched the canvas.
"I will miss you," Morwenna said.
Isolde's lips curved into a gentle smile.
"We will miss you, too, little one. You will have so much to tell us about the world beyond the gates. Tell us all about your travels when you return."
"I will tell you everything. Every single thing."
Morwenna continued down the gallery, her footsteps soft against the polished floor. She stopped before the old white-haired woman's portrait last.
The ancient woman was already looking at her, her eyes holding that familiar sense of recognition.
"I'm going to the mundane world," Morwenna said, standing as tall as she could. "To the Keith village. Then London."
The old woman remained silent for a long moment, watching her with a steady, unblinking gaze.
"You have grown," she said at last.
Morwenna looked down at her small, pale hands. They were the same hands she had always known, yet somehow, she felt different.
"I'm four."
The old woman's lips moved in what might have been a smile. A faint trace of amusement seemed to flicker across her ancient face.
"Yes."
Morwenna looked up again and met her gaze.
"I will be back."
"I know."
She left the gallery, the sunlight warming her back as she made her way to the nursery.
The room was warm and smelled of sunlit wood. Her bed remained unmade, the sheets thrown aside, and her nightclothes lay crumpled on the chair.
The small carved serpent sat on the nightstand where she had left it, its wooden scales catching the light. Beside it lay the silver locket, reflecting a tiny golden glint. Cinder rested on the rug with his head on his paws. When she entered, his tail gave a single, slow thump.
Morwenna opened the wardrobe.
Her mundane clothes were neatly folded on the lower shelf, arranged by her mother. There were shirts, shorts, a gray jumper, and socks decorated with tiny pink flowers. She took them out and laid them carefully across the rumpled bed.
Her fingers paused on the white shirt with the fox printed on it. The cotton felt soft and light beneath her touch.
Cinder jumped onto the bed at once, his claws clicking against the frame as he settled right in the middle of the clothes.
"Move," Morwenna told him, giving him a gentle nudge.
He merely stared at her with wide, stubborn amber eyes. She sighed, lifted him, and felt his warmth against her arms as he gave a low chuff. She placed him on the pillow, where he turned twice, kneading the fabric with his paws before sitting down to watch her.
Morwenna began folding her clothes. She started with the shorts, smoothing the denim flat with her palm before folding them neatly. Then she moved on to the shirts, folding each one in half and then again until they formed a tidy stack. She placed the thick gray jumper on top, followed by her socks, which she rolled into little balls, and her white underwear.
She paused to examine the pile. It looked terribly small against the vastness of her bed.
After a moment's thought, she added another shirt, another pair of shorts, and a few more pairs of socks. The stack grew taller, and she felt satisfied with the result. Her gaze then shifted to the drawer where she kept her ribbons. She picked out a strip of green silk and tucked it into the pocket of her jacket.
Near the wardrobe stood the small bag Jane had left for her. It was made of dark green canvas, with a long shoulder strap. Morwenna began packing her clothes, pressing them down with her small fists to make room for everything. Behind her, Cinder's tail thumped once against the pillow, the sound breaking the quiet of the room.
She went to the washroom to fetch her toothbrush, then returned and slipped it carefully into a side pocket of the bag. Next, she took out the book she had bought in London, still wrapped in its crisp brown paper, and placed it on top of her folded clothes.
Morwenna stepped back to admire her work. The bag sat in the middle of the bed, full and ready for the journey.
The silver locket hung around her neck, its metal warm against her skin where it rested over her heart.
Her leather pouch was still waiting on the nightstand.
She crossed the room and picked it up, feeling the familiar weight of the worn serpent-shaped pouch in her hands. Inside were her treasures: the gray memory stone, the silver box, and the crystal sphere, along with the small dark box from Sylvaine and the silver bell from Saoirse.
She tied the pouch around her waist. The familiar weight settled against her hip, comforting her as she moved.
When Morwenna returned to the morning room, it was quiet. The breakfast dishes had been cleared away, leaving only the faint scent of Earl Grey tea and buttered toast.
Jack had gone to his study. Jane sat by the window with a book in her hands, though she wasn't reading. Her green eyes were fixed on the gray expanse of the garden. Aldric and Seraphina had already retreated to the library, while Saoirse remained sprawled across the settee, her breathing slow and steady as she dozed.
Morwenna climbed onto the chair beside her mother, the cool wood brushing against her legs. Cinder followed and curled up at her feet.
"I packed," she announced confidently.
Jane closed her book, keeping her thumb between the heavy pages.
"Already, petite?"
Morwenna nodded firmly.
"Clothes, my toothbrush, the book, and my pouch." She touched the leather at her waist, feeling the treasures shift with a faint clink. "Everything."
Jane smiled, warmth brightening her eyes.
"That was quick."
"I don't have much."
Jane's smile softened, the warmth in her expression easing some of the fatigue on her face. She reached for Morwenna's hand and held it between her own long, cool fingers.
"You will have more soon," she promised. "We can buy things in London. Whatever you want."
. . .
Morwenna woke long before Jane came to get her on the morning of their departure. She had already dressed herself with meticulous care, choosing a soft cotton blouse in pale cream, its collar decorated with delicate stitching.
She wore light linen shorts that fell just above her knees. The fabric felt much softer against her skin than the stiff denim she had worn to the park. Her socks were pure white, with tiny embroidered flowers around the cuffs, and her blue trainers were tightly laced. She had checked the double knots twice to make sure they wouldn't come undone.
Her bag waited beside the nursery door, packed and ready for the long journey ahead.
Jane appeared in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the soft glow of candles in the hallway.
"You are ready."
Morwenna nodded firmly, her heart giving a small, excited thump.
"I'm ready."
They went downstairs together, their footsteps the only sounds in the quiet manor. The entrance hall was lit by flickering candles that cast long shadows across the marble floor. At the center, the fountain murmured softly, its gentle trickling echoing beneath the high ceiling.
All the portraits were awake and watching from their gilded frames. Edmund gave a solemn nod as they passed, while Isolde pressed her painted hand to her heart, her expression unusually gentle. The ancient white-haired woman simply watched with her steady, ageless eyes.
Aldric stood beside the heavy oak doors with Seraphina. His hands were clasped behind his back, and his expression remained as still as carved stone. Seraphina rested one hand lightly on his arm, her pale fingers standing out against his dark green robes.
Saoirse was already waiting in her long traveling coat, a bag slung over one shoulder. Jack stood beside her, his own leather bag resting at his feet. Near the kitchen door, Tilly clutched a woven basket in his small hands. His large ears were pressed flat against his head, and his eyes glistened with tears.
Morwenna approached her grandparents.
Aldric crouched until they were at eye level. He studied her face for a long moment, as though committing every detail to memory, then reached out to straighten her collar. It was already perfectly in place.
"You will be gone for almost a year," he said, his voice low and resonant.
Morwenna nodded.
"That's a long time."
She nodded again, her throat tightening. Aldric rested a hand on her head. His palm was warm and heavy, and the familiar touch helped settle the restless feeling in her limbs.
"You will write to us."
It wasn't a question. It was an instruction.
"Every week," Morwenna promised. "Mama said I must."
"Every week." He nodded slowly, his brown eyes fixed on hers. "And you will be careful. In the mundane world, you will remember the rules we taught you."
"I will."
"You will let your mother, father, and Saoirse look after you."
Morwenna searched his face.
"You look after Gran-ma."
Something flickered across Aldric's usually stoic expression. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. A moment later, he pulled her into a brief, tight embrace.
His arms were strong and protective, and his chin rested against the top of her head. He smelled of old parchment and the faint, bitter scent of the forest.
"Write," he repeated, his voice slightly rough.
Then he released her and stood.
Seraphina knelt in front of Morwenna, her silk robes whispering against the marble. She took Morwenna's hands in hers, her fingers cool and steady.
"I will miss you," she said softly.
Morwenna squeezed her hands in return.
"I will miss you too."
Seraphina's lips curved into a small smile that reached her eyes.
"You will see many things. Pay attention to them and remember them well. When you come back, you will tell us everything."
"I will."
Seraphina held her gaze for another moment, her expression filled with quiet, fierce affection. Then she kissed Morwenna's forehead and rose to her feet.
Saoirse stepped forward, practically buzzing with restless energy. She wore a wide grin, her eyes bright with excitement.
"Ready, little monster?"
Morwenna glanced at the door. It remained closed, a heavy barrier between her and the world she had only just begun to discover. Beyond it, the carriage was waiting.
"Yes."
The doors opened, and cold air brushed her face, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine needles. The sky was still a deep, bruised purple, with the last stars fading near the horizon.
The carriage stood on the gravel, its thestrals motionless and silent. Their harnesses caught the faint light spilling from the entrance hall.
Tilly hurried forward and pressed the basket into Jane's hands before stepping back, his head bowed.
At the threshold, Morwenna turned for one last look.
Aldric and Seraphina stood together in the warm candlelight, their figures tall and dignified. Behind them, the fountain continued to murmur, while the portraits watched silently from their frames.
"Goodbye," Morwenna said, her voice clear in the cold morning air.
Aldric gave her a single, slow nod. Seraphina raised one hand in a silent blessing.
Morwenna turned and walked toward the carriage, her trainers crunching over the gravel. Jack lifted her inside with a steady grip.
The seats were the same dark leather as before, carrying the familiar scent of age and polish. The tinted windows turned the world outside into indistinct shadows.
Jane climbed in after her, and Saoirse followed last, pulling the door shut with a solid thud.
The carriage began to move, and Morwenna pressed her face against the cool glass.
The manor remained behind them, a massive silhouette of gray stone and dark windows. The entrance doors were still open, revealing a rectangle of golden light where Aldric and Seraphina stood. They already looked small as the carriage rolled away, their figures growing more distant with every turn of the wheels.
The carriage swayed steadily along the path. At last, the great doors closed, and the golden light disappeared.
Morwenna watched the manor shrink into the distance. It became a lone gray shape among the dark, towering trees until the forest swallowed it completely. The windows, the towers, and the carved stone serpents vanished from sight.
She kept looking into the darkness as the woods passed in a thick blur. Slowly, the horizon brightened, the deep purple of the early morning fading into a watery gray. The gravel path gave way to packed earth, and the wheels continued their steady rumble beneath her.
The outer gate appeared ahead, its dark ironwork standing stark against the pale sky. The Keith crest sat at its center, catching the first hints of morning light. As the carriage passed beneath it, the gate cast a brief shadow over the roof before falling behind them.
Morwenna watched until the iron bars disappeared from view. The manor's boundary was now nothing more than a memory hidden in the mist.
Jane reached across the leather seat and took her hand. Morwenna intertwined their fingers and held on tightly.
The carriage continued along the road. The trees gradually thinned, giving way to open fields beneath an increasingly bright sky. Beyond them, the road stretched into the distance, bordered by low hedges and patches of brown earth.
Saoirse was already unpacking the basket Tilly had prepared for their journey. She pulled out fresh bread rolls wrapped in clean white cloth and a small glass jar of golden honey.
"Hungry?" she asked, breaking the quiet.
Morwenna took a roll. The bread was still pleasantly warm, and she spread a thick layer of honey over it with her finger. It was sticky and sweet, and she ate in small bites while watching the fields slide past the window.
Jack handed her a cup of hot tea. She wrapped both hands around the porcelain, letting its warmth seep into her fingers.
The road stretched on as the sun climbed higher. The morning light changed from dull gray to bright gold, illuminating the frost that still clung to the grass. Morwenna ate another roll and a crisp slice of apple. Beneath the seat, Cinder pressed against her legs, his warm body providing a familiar comfort.
Eventually, the carriage began to slow.
Morwenna looked out the window again. There was nothing unusual in sight, only the long road, rolling fields, and an immense stretch of pale sky.
Jack was already on his feet, reaching for his leather bag.
"We are here."
The carriage came to a stop, its heavy swaying finally settling. Jack opened the door and stepped out, his boots crunching over the loose stones.
Cold air rushed inside. It was different from the heavy, ancient chill of the manor, carrying the earthy smell of damp soil and crushed grass instead.
Jane took Morwenna's hand, and they climbed down together. The gravel crunched beneath Morwenna's blue trainers, feeling much like the gravel at home.
She looked around. The road stretched away in both directions, surrounded by broad brown fields beneath the vast, pale sky. There were no buildings nearby, only open land and the distant horizon.
Jack walked to the front of the carriage and spoke to the thestrals in a low murmur, patting their leathery necks before returning to the others. Then he held out his hand to Morwenna.
"Ready?"
She slipped her small fingers into his palm.
The world folded.
Morwenna braced herself for the sensation this time. Her chest still tightened, and her ears popped sharply. Her stomach seemed determined to remain behind in the empty space between places, but she kept her green eyes wide open, watching the light stretch and snap back into place.
The ground steadied beneath her feet.
She let out a long, shaky breath and straightened up.
They stood on a narrow country lane bordered by tall, dense hedgerows. Their fresh green leaves glistened in the morning light, and a car waited at the roadside with its engine running. A low, rhythmic hum came from beneath its hood.
Morwenna turned to look at it.
The car was a deep, dark green, almost black in the morning light. Its body had clean, sharp lines, and the polished metal gleamed beneath the clear sky (1984 Jaguar Sovereign 4.2 Series III saloon). The windows were dark, but when she moved closer, she could see the creamy leather seats and the polished walnut trim across the dashboard.
A door opened with a soft mechanical click.
A tall man stepped out onto the road. He has dark hair and his jaw had the same sharp line as Jack's, and his eyes were the same deep brown as Aldric's. When he smiled, the warmth reached his eyes.
"You made good time," he said.
Jack shook his hand.
"Thank you for meeting us."
"William would have come himself, but the harvest is in full swing. He sent me instead." The man glanced at Jane, then Saoirse, before turning his attention to Morwenna. His gaze lingered on her with quiet intensity. "So this is her."
Morwenna looked back at him.
He had the familiar feature of the Keith family, but there was no magic humming around him. She could sense its absence clearly. It reminded her of standing beside a great hearth piled high with logs, only to discover that it gave off no warmth.
"I'm Thomas, your father's cousin. Your great-something-grandfather was also my great-something-grandfather." He chuckled softly. "Our family tree gets a bit complicated when you go back far enough. But we share the same blood, even if it doesn't show itself in the same way."
Morwenna studied his face. The lines around his eyes were deeper than her father's, shaped by years of sun and wind. His hands were calloused, and his skin was tanned from working outdoors.
"I'm Nimue," she said.
Thomas's smile widened.
"I know."
Cinder pressed against her legs, his soft fur brushing her skin. His ears swiveled forward as he watched the unfamiliar man.
Thomas glanced down at the fox, then back at Morwenna.
"He comes with you?"
"He goes everywhere."
Thomas nodded as though traveling with a fox were the most ordinary thing in the world. He straightened and opened the car door.
The interior smelled faintly of citrus and clean leather. Saoirse climbed in first and slid across the seat, followed by Jane, who settled beside her. Jack placed their bags in the trunk with a dull thud before returning to help Morwenna.
She climbed into the car and settled between Jane and Saoirse, her legs dangling above the floor. Cinder jumped in after her, landing lightly on the leather seat. He turned twice in a tight circle before settling on her lap, his familiar warmth resting against her thighs.
Thomas closed the door and took his place behind the steering wheel. The engine hummed quietly.
"Thornwell is about an hour from here," he explained, glancing at them through the rearview mirror. "William has the house ready. He was up before dawn checking every room himself."
He pulled onto the road, the tires crunching softly over the asphalt before the car gathered speed. Outside the window, the green hedgerows began sliding past.
Morwenna rested one hand on Cinder's head and watched the countryside unfold around her. The fields opened on either side, their colors shifting between green and gold in the strengthening sunlight. The last traces of gray had vanished from the sky, leaving it clear and bright above the road.
She pressed her face against the cool glass.
The car was quiet, the road stretched straight ahead, and everything beyond the window was new to her.
Morwenna watched it all pass.
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