Without bothering to change out of my suit and pumps, I took off into the woods, walking as fast as I could on heels to the clearing in the woods where the door to Faerie stood. As rushed as I was, though, I ground to a halt when I reached the edge of the clearing. I’d stood here before in the middle of winter and thought it looked magical glazed with ice and snow, but I’d never seen it before in full summer, on the eve of the summer solstice. The trees were draped with honeysuckle vines in full bloom, their white and yellow blossoms filling the air with sweet honeyed air. The vines had twisted themselves into an arch directly across from me. Heavy wisteria blooms hung over the arch like a fringed curtain. The air inside the arch shimmered like the skin of a soap bubble. I approached it warily, feeling my resolve waver with the undulating colors. I was going to bond myself to this, I thought, a portal to another world? I was already a mess of conflicting desires. What would it do to me to connect myself to an unstable, volatile entity?

Perhaps I should have read that caution in Wheelock.

But I’d left the book behind and I didn’t have time to go back for it. It was dusk. The Grove was going to close the door tomorrow. Clearly they thought they could. This might be the only way to stop them.

I moved closer until I was inches from the door. The transparent film pulsed as if sensing my presence. Weren’t we already connected? I stretched out my hand and held it up to the surface of the door, palm out. The film swirled, forming a pattern like the one I’d seen on Skald’s phone. Yes, this was my fate. Whatever it did to me, I had to forge this bond.

Still holding one hand up to the door I unpinned the Luckenbooth brooch from my jacket. Its design of two hearts seemed fitting for a spell that linked my heart to the door. I pricked my finger with the pin, squeezed it until a drop of blood welled up, then turned my hand over to let the drop fall on the threshold of the door.

“Quam cor mea aperit,” I said, “tam ianua aperit.”

The transparent pattern swirled into a spiral. As it moved I felt a tugging sensation in my chest. Yes, we were connected for better or for worse. Like a marriage, I thought wryly, looking down at my hand. The drop of blood reminded me of Bill drawing out the splinter and I suddenly wished he were here to cradle my hand in his …