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I stiffen in my chair, suddenly worried—and immensely curious. “Why?”

“Because I knew one too many secrets.” She lowers her voice even more. “What if I told you there was a way we could stay in contact while you’re over there? There’s a basic Fae trick I could teach you…”

Eyes wide, I consider her serious face with a tinge of excitement. “I was thinking the same thing. I need a way to communicate with you and Cece in case something happens.”

She gives me a sharp nod, a sense of understanding and urgency pulsing in the air between us. “Pull off your sock.”

She pulls two sewing pins from her bag. “I’ll sterilize them first, so there’s no risk of infection.” She holds the two pins to a nearby candle until the metal end glows red. After it’s done, she blows on them to cool them down and pricks her finger with one. “First, we both sink the end of our pin into our fingers and coat it with blood.”

I follow her instructions, and once the pins are coated in red, we exchange them.

Esme shows off her naked ankle and points to the slight concave depression below the bone. “We push it here, right to the bone.” She presses her lips together to hide a wince as she sinks the pin inside her flesh, the small, pearly black head sticking out.

I grit my teeth together and do the same.

“It’s not fancy magic by any means, but if I pull on mine, you’ll feel it.” She wiggles the head of the pin, and a somewhat unpleasant but tame sensation tickles my calf.

I nod, thrilled to have a way to stay connected to her and Cece, however small or primitive it is.

She opens her mouth to continue her explanation, but Cece enters the room. My sister’s long nightgown licks the floor with a soft swish as she walks over to us. “Don’t stop on my account.”

Esme quickly pulls her sock up her leg and stands to put the diary back on the shelf. “I was heading to bed, actually.”

“Why did Father go to Danu so suddenly?” Cece asks. “Isn’t it already winter over there?”

Esme’s cheek ticks in response. “I don’t know.” If she wasn’t Fae, I’d call horseshit on that answer, but the weird look on her face quickly melts away, and she takes her leave. “Don’t stay up too late, girls.”

The fire casts mesmerizing shadows on the wall as Cece sits next to me on the chaise lounge. “Something’s not right. I feel it here.” She rests a hand over her heart, and her blue eyes glaze with sorrow the way they used to after our mother died.

“You’re bleeding,” I say.

The tip of her index finger shows a drop of blood, but she licks it off with a shrug. “Oh, it’s nothing. I just pricked myself with something, earlier.” Her hazelnut eyes bore into me. “When do you have to go back?”

I avert my gaze, afraid to face her disappointment. “Tomorrow.”

“So every fourteen days…”

“Yes.” I hesitate. “You haven’t asked a lot of questions about Faerie.” I expected her to harass me the last two weeks, and yet she didn’t.

She shifts closer and reaches for my hand. “It’s not that I’m not curious.”

“Really? You’re not afraid of me now, are you? Are you angry that I couldn’t heal Firenze?” I ask.

“Oh Nell… I’d never! I just—I figured you’re probably not allowed to share everything with me anymore.” A bright red blush colors her cheeks. “Esme said something about your trips to Faerie being private, and that I should be discreet.”

A small cry of relief escapes me. “Since when do you listen to Esme?”

Cece shrugs, and I reach down to pick up the book tucked under the cushion. “Here, I figured you should have it.”

Her eyes widen. “What is it?”

I caress the golden cover before angling it to her. “Delusions of Winter. It’s the first Fae book I ever read. Mother gave it to me.”

“Mother gave you a Fae book?” Cece’s eyes flood with tears.

“When I turned sixteen. It was the night she told me about my magic.”

She picks it up like it’s the goddess’ sacred shroud and holds it close to her chest. “I’ll guard it with my life.”