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“Just done, but he’d just mentioned we had to stay till the end of the market day.”

Mother sighed in apparent relief, looking at Father as though Grace were no longer there. “That’s fine, then. We should be fine.”

Grace shook her head, fighting the urge to glare daggers at her parents. “No, it’s not. He referenced our supply run. In front of a Clairmont.”

“He was quite vague. I have plenty of responsibilities I could be done with, fledgling.”

Grace gripped the edge of the table, her thumb rubbing against a well-worn divot on the underside. “But he was following us. Garrick followed us the whole day.”

Mother looked at her again. “You’re sure?”

“He had the dress I wanted! And he was there to get stationery. And the candy. He had candy like Russell had candy.” Where before, Garrick’s failed stealth had brought anger and panic, asthe words left her mouth, Grace smiled in deep satisfaction. She’d caught a Clairmont—a singularly unstealthy one, but a Clairmont nonetheless.

What more proof did her parents need of her abilities?

“You saw him at those stalls?”

“Well, no, but…” Her satisfaction deflated. She knew how her parents would take her answer.

Mother reached across the table and rested her hand atop Grace’s. Grace flinched.

“I’m glad you’re keeping aware, fledgling, but overreacting can be just as dangerous as under-reacting.”

Grace refused to meet her parents’ eyes, staring instead at the faded paint on the cracking wood walls.

Curse their disbelief. Graceknewsomething was up with Garrick. As they were the same age, she’d known the man her entire life, enduring a half dozen years beside him at school. They’d hovered in the same crowds at soirées and town events. He’d side-eyed her and Jonathan through it all. And, though forced into proximity, he’d kept his distance so they knew he thought them beneath him. One time, when they were all fourteen, he’d even reported Jonathan to his father, the sheriff. Thank the stars Jonathan had only jumped down from a roof to startle Garrick, or Sheriff Clairmont might have actually done something about it.

If Garrick was following her, something was different. And he was going to tell his father whatever he saw.

The tension of the day and her parents’ response to her news was taking a toll. That pinprick of pain in her forehead from earlier was back, and pulsing. She tried to breathe slowly to relax her muscles, but then her parents started to rise from their seats and spoke of turning in for the night.

How could she get them to listen?

Without a plan, she just repeated what she’d already said. “He was watching us. He talked to us. In the mystic tent!”

Grace froze. The mystic tent. Curses! She’d forgotten to return to purchase the ice.

The ice…

“I may have found enchanted ice,” she blurted.

For the second time, her parents reacted to her words with shock. They turned to face her, voices soft but intense.

“You found Zerudorn gold?” Mother asked, her voice half whisper.

“Well, maybe. I don’t know. Just the ice. The vendor said it was ice from the base of Mount Nix, but would he know the difference?”

“Did you buy it?”

“Well, no… Garrick was there, and I didn’t want to seem suspicious.”

“You didn’t go back?”

“He was following me… I didn’t want to be seen.” She didn’t say she had forgotten about it by then.

Father breathed deeply. His eyes were focused on the chipped vase on a side table, but he wasn’t seeing it. Eventually, he looked to Mother.

“What do we do?”