“It’s a great misfortune, and I’m sorry, daughter. I’m sorry I was not strong enough to help you last night.”

I glanced away, unable to bear the sorrow in his eyes. My guilt flared again. If I had been craftier, bolder . . . I wouldn’t have lost. “Where are we going?”

“I’m still considering our options. The most important thing at the moment is that you pack everything.”

“I was planning to give some of my books away to the town girls. Could I still do that?”

His eyes flickered to the piles of books I had made on the floor. I read his mind: books were heavy and cumbersome to move with, even if one enchanted them into tiny charms.

“That would be fine,” he replied. “So long as you erase your name on the cover and any notes you may have written in the margins and ensure none of your bookmarks are in the pages.”

I nodded and watched him leave. And while I wanted to act as if I was not rattled by his worry, I was. My hands shook as I went through the books I planned to donate, uttering a charm to vanish my handwriting. Because—of course—I was the sort of person who marked every book I owned. And as Papa knew well, I made my own bookmarks. I ended up recovering three of them, lost in the leaves of thick novels. By the end of my scouring, there were eleven volumes that I wanted to give to the Fielding girls.

I gathered the books into my arms and decided I would deliver them now.

The main level of the cottage was quiet. The Vesper brothers were gone, to my immense relief, and my father was in his own bedchamber, packing. Imonie was at the china cabinet, wrapping the porcelain in newspaper, but she didn’t stop me when I slipped out the door into the warmth of late morning.

The last thing I desired was to be seen and stopped on the streets. I cast a simple avertana charm, one that would make me unnoticeable. And I walked the streets of Hereswith. Everyone was speaking of my father’s displacement, because rumors traveled like wildfire here, and everyone had seen the Vesper brothers wandering about the evening before.

Most of the talk was hinged on disbelief and devastation, for my father was sincerely loved in this town. But there were a few conversations I heard, words that were hopeful for the new warden. My father was getting old, anyway. It was good to change magicians every now and then.

I reached the Fieldings’ cottage.

With a deep sigh, I loosened my charm so I could be noticed again, and was approaching the door, preparing to knock, when a sweet voice called my name from above.

“Miss Clem!”