Dragonfly Maid

But somehow, she followed me. I found her on my first day at the castle, perched on the ledge beyond my window. It had been such a happy moment, a welcome balm for an otherwise distressing day.
Right now, she seemed to regret that decision to join me. She was in one of her moods again. Stomping as much as her tiny legs could stomp.
“I have no choice,” I said. “They know about me. I mean, I think they do. Mrs. Crossey was asking questions.”
My friend froze. Her pearlescent eyes locked on me.
“What do you know about Mrs. Crossey?”
The little one dipped her head.
“I didn’t tell them anything. Of course I wouldn’t.”
Her tiny stare held mine again. No head dip, no dance. None of her usual gestures.
How did she know I wasn’t telling the whole truth? How did she always know?
“Fine. I might have said something, but it was vague. They only suspect. Maybe just Mrs. Crossey, but still—”
She stamped her feet as though she were stamping out a fire.
“You do know something about Mrs. Crossey, don’t you?”
Her head dipped once, then again.
“You’re not making sense.”
Instead of explaining herself, she flew away.
I wheeled around, my gaze following her trajectory. “That isn’t nice,” I called out. “You could at least answer the question.”
I had no intention of letting her off so easily, but the argument would have to wait. She had found me once, so I was sure she could again, and I had reached the lower gate. The metal bar was down; an ancient-looking hinge that might have been forged when William the Conqueror first built his fortress here more than seven hundred years ago.
I knew from previous visits that the gate didn’t lock from this side. Its purpose was to stop outsiders from coming in, not insiders from going out. I’d learned that lesson after my first stroll to the river’s edge. I’d been forced to walk all the way back to the King George IV Gate to get back in.
Since then, I made sure to prop the door open with a sturdy rock. Out of habit, I grabbed a cobble-size limestone as I approached before realizing I wouldn’t need it this time.
I dropped the stone, and it landed with a thud at my feet. As I lifted the latch, I paused for one last look back.
To think, this castle had stood on this mount for a thousand years and would likely stand a thousand more. Its time here would go on even if mine had come to an end. My jaw tightened against the unexpected emotion creeping up my throat.
“There you are. What took you so long?”
At the sound of Mrs. Crossey’s cheerful voice, my head snapped forward. I found her leaning against the wall on the other side of the gate, still in her kitchen apron and with a worn issue of Englishwoman’s Domestic Magazine opened to the recipe pages.
I opened my mouth but found no words.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” she continued. “Come. Walk with me.”

CHAPTER FOUR
I stood at the gate, stunned into silence and gaping as Mrs. Crossey dog-eared the page she’d been reading and closed the magazine.
“You appear to be leaving us.” She might have been remarking on the weather, not catching me mid-escape.
I didn’t trust myself to speak. She looked like the same, sweet woman I’d worked alongside for so many months. The friendly mentor who had taken me under her wing and who disappeared to the Servants’ Hall or the garden with a magazine while a stew simmered or the porridge boiled yet always returned well before anything burned.
But how well did I really know her? After the exchange in Mr. MacDougall’s office, I realized I knew very little.
“I thought it would be easier for everyone this way,” I muttered.
Mrs. Crossey rolled her magazine and shoved it into a skirt pocket. “Fair enough. But stroll with me before you go. Just for a few moments.”
When I didn’t move, she tried again. “There’s nothing to fear. There are simply things you should know before you make this decision.”
My fingers tightened around my bag’s brass handle. “What things?”
She sighed and watched a crow take flight from a nearby tree, its throaty caw echoing across the hills. “You might think what happened today came out of the blue, but I assure you it didn’t. It was always going to happen. I’d hoped to wait a bit, till after your birthday at least. But this matter with the Queen changes things.” She paused and rubbed her lower lip. “And then there’s the matter of your visions—” Her gaze dropped to my hands. My gloves.
“I told you, I don’t have—”
She stopped me with a look. “Let’s stop the nonsense, shall we? If I’m not mistaken, your visions have taken a turn. Grown stronger, yes? If you don’t learn to control them…” She shook her head, unable or unwilling to continue.
“Then what?” I didn’t care if she interpreted my concern as a confession. I had never seen that look on her face. Not just worry, but fear.
“Without training, you could lose control. But there’s no reason to be alarmed.”
“I’m not alarmed. I just want to be left alone.”
“All right. If that’s truly your wish. But as I said, there are things you should know. About your family, for instance.”
At that, she strode past me, taking the path that meandered away from the gate and down a slope, toward a grove of trees that was nearly swallowed by a fog bank rolling off the Thames.
I kicked at the dirt. “I have no family.” A noose tightened around my heart.
She turned back and watched me without saying a word.
Shifting, I watched a breeze drag its lazy fingers through the oaks and yews, making their branches sway. Then from somewhere in those hazy woods, another crow cried out and broke the silence.
She tilted her head. “We all have family. That’s a simple fact of life.” Then she turned and continued down the path.
“I don’t remember them, so it hardly matters,”