Dragonfly Maid

with another realm after all. Words and symbols are not always so clear.”
I looked up from drying my own hands. “What do you mean another realm?”
Marlie frowned. “What would you call it?”
An odd fear gripped me. “Call what, exactly?”
Marlie turned to Mrs. Crossey. “You said she was Fayte. How can she not know—”
“Enough, Marlie.”
My roommate stopped, but whether it was Mrs. Crossey’s reprimand or the woman’s glare that did it, I couldn’t say.
“The Lady’s realm is a hidden world,” Mrs. Crossey said by way of an explanation, “a world beyond our own.”
“That’s nonsense.”
Marlie scoffed.
Mrs. Crossey sighed. “I can see how it would seem so, but I assure you it’s not. Let’s leave it at that for now.”
Marlie’s head shot up. Her eyes sparked. “Mrs. Crossey! I know what the message means.”
“You do?” The elder woman looked skeptical.
“The false face? It’s the Queen’s masquerade.”
Mrs. Crossey tapped her lip. “Of course! The masquerade…” She nodded, the idea sinking in.
“It has to be,” Marlie said. “And if we know when the attack is to take place, we can prepare. We can put everyone on alert.”
There it was again. Everyone. “How many Fayte Guardians are there?”
“Not as many as there used to be, unfortunately,” Marlie said. “Not since the efficiency campaign began.”
Mrs. Crossey was pacing, still tapping her lip. “We can’t tell anyone, at least not yet.”
“But we must,” Marlie wailed. “I know she isn’t initiated yet, but the message came from the divining pool. So it shouldn’t matter.”
A deep crease split Mrs. Crossey’s brow. “It could matter a great deal to some. They’ll question the message, or worse. Many believe as the former Supreme Elder believed. Once we find the threat, once it can be confirmed, then we can share it with the others. Until then, this information must remain between us. For now, at least.”
“But we can’t do this alone,” Marlie wailed.
“With Jane’s gift, I think we can,” Mrs. Crossey said. “And this should help.” She lifted the cord with the golden pendant from her neck and offered it to me.
I stared at the dazzling cylinder. It was still glowing faintly. “What do I do with it?”
“Just wear it. For now.”
Marlie shifted and touched her own pendant. Reverently. Protectively. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“Jane is going to need all the help she can get,” Mrs. Crossey said. “At the moment, a Faytling is the best we have to offer.”
Faytling. It was a beautiful name for such a treasure. I reached for it, my fingers itching to wrap around that delicate vessel.
Perhaps Mrs. Crossey sensed my eagerness because she pulled it back and said, a bit sternly, “With the gloves, I think. At least until we have a better idea of what you can do.”
I wasn’t going to argue. I tugged on my gloves, and she extended the jewel once again.
Taking it gingerly into my palm, I held it up for closer inspection. Its inner light brightened then faded again. “What an odd little thing,” I whispered as I stared, transfixed by the jewel.
Her eyes twinkled. “It appears to like you. That’s a good sign. A very good sign, indeed.”
~ ~ ~
“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”
I glanced up from the edge of my bed, where I was admiring my new treasure. “I did. You told me to put the Faytling away and get some sleep.”
She stood at the mirror over our wash basin and tied off her night braid with a ribbon. “Lucky guess.”
It was a lucky guess. Nothing she’d said since we returned to our room had registered. Ordinarily I’d be happy for the conversation. It would be a welcome break from the usual silence that filled our room. But I couldn’t tear my attention away from the Faytling.
I lowered my gaze back to the jewel and marveled at its smooth edges. Its delicate curves. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“When did you get your Faytling?”
“Not till I was eighteen, at my initiation.”
“Did you already know about the Guardians by then?”
“I was eight or so when my mother first told me. I didn’t really understand it, though. She told me we had special jobs in the castle to take care of the Queen. I thought she was talking about being a maid in the kitchen.”
“That’s all she told you?”
“A little later, when I started collecting herbs, she told me that might be my special job, just like it was for her. She also told me it was fine to talk about herbs and the things we did with them at home but that I shouldn’t mention them to other people.” She looked up at the ceiling and shook her head, remembering. “She told me I knew so much about herbs people could become jealous and that it would be a kindness to spare them that. It’s embarrassing to admit that I fell for it. I was so gullible. I guess I just thought it was normal to have cabinets full of twigs and dried leaves and a mother who could whip up a special tea or poultice when you were sick. She knew so many recipes, and they were all up here.” She tapped her temple. “Never wrote down a single thing.”
“Couldn’t you write them for her?”
Marlie slumped forward and clasped her hands together. “I wish I had. I guess I thought she’d always be around.”
“I’m sorry.” I wished I’d kept my question to myself.
She smiled to reassure me. “It’s all right. It’s been years now. She and my father were both taken the same winter. They were older, you see. My mother used to call me her Twilight Child because I came so late.” She chuckled to herself. “I never cared about that, though. They loved me more than any parents ever loved a daughter, I’m quite certain of that.”
“You’re lucky.” I meant it kindly, but there must have been something in my voice that made her shift and change subjects.
“Faytlings are wondrous things, aren’t they?” She was watching me gaze at the one in my hand.