At the service the pastor had given the assembled mourners a lecture about hell and had looked at their small group and shouted, “Where will you be when the Lord comes? Where will you be? You’ll be in hell if you don’t change your ways!”

It was not the kind of church service she was expecting. The church was an old community centre outside the village where Amelia’s parents lived. Amelia explained that the locals went to the more traditional—more normal—Church of England church in the village. But this small congregation was quite different. The church members were not local—they travelled here from all over. And Byron realized how oppressive this extreme church would have been for Amelia growing up.

Amelia stepped forward, took some earth from the pastor, and threw it down into the grave. As she did, she said, “Thank you for protecting me.”

The graveside service was now at an end, and everyone started to file back to their cars. Byron tried to take her hand, but Amelia said, “I’ll just go and thank the pastor. I’ll see you in the car.”

“If you’re sure,” Byron said.

Byron went back to the car and settled inside. Five minutes later a stony-faced Amelia joined her.

“Is everything all right? If he’s upset you—” Byron asked.

“Let’s just go.”

Byron nodded to Alexis in the front, and she told the driver to drive. She took Amelia’s hand. “What did he say?”

Amelia sighed. “Oh, just that I’m going to hell to burn forever, and how ashamed my parents were of me.”

Anger simmered inside Byron. If she had been there, she would have scared the living daylights out of him for upsetting her wife.

“Nonsense. He doesn’t know that your mum and dad showed love to you the only way they knew how, by protecting you. Don’t even listen to that fire and brimstone stuff.”

“I know. It’s still hard to be reminded that my childhood was spent listening to this.” Amelia got out her phone and started texting.

“Who are you texting?”

“Magda, to see if she can give me a lesson when we arrive back in London,” Amelia said.

“You can’t go right after your parents’ funeral. I know you’re sad, frustrated, and angry. But I thought we could have supper and go to bed early. You said you felt queasy earlier—you need a rest.”

“Byron, I want to be distracted. Learning how to control my powers will do that. Please?”

She wasn’t so sure it was the best idea, but if that was what Amelia wanted… “Okay, if Magda can see you, we’ll drop you there, and I’ll do some paperwork.” Byron said to Alexis, “We’re taking the Principessa to The Portal bookshop.”

“Yes, Principe.”