She bit her lip. The rational part of her was horrified at herself. What was she doing? Instead of indulging in these childish fancies she ought to be clearing out Daniel’s belongings or re-working her budget now she didn’t have his income coming in. But she ignored the rational part of her. She didn’t need it to tell her this was ridiculous. Sheknewit was ridiculous.
But she had to try something. She was teetering on the edge, trying desperately not to fall, and if Charlie could escape into the past, why not her? So she stood up, holding the little book in one hand, and began enacting the ritual it described. First, she walked around the bench, deosil, clockwise, chanting under her breath.
By moonlight pale and shadow deep,
Awake, O Fae, from secret sleep.
Through leaf and stone, by fire and sea,
Come forth, unseen, and answer me.
Having done this, she reversed direction and moved widdershins, anti-clockwise, muttering the second verse.
Grant the wish I whisper low,
By hidden paths where dreamers go.
Silver promise, shadow’s kiss,
Fae, bestow this heart’s true bliss.
She stopped and looked around. Nothing had changed. Beyond the gardens, Edinburgh’s busy streets hummed with the sound of traffic. Nearby, she heard people whistling their dogs as they walked in the park and several joggers in bright gear ran by on the other side of her hiding place. Everything was just as it had always been.
She tossed the little book onto the bench and snorted a laugh, feeling faintly idiotic. What had she expected? For the Fairy Godmother to appear, wave a magic wand and make all her problems disappear? Absurd! She was only glad nobody had been around to see her. If anyone had noticed her antics, they would probably have thought she was a raving lunatic.
She reached out to pick up the book but jumped as a voice suddenly said behind her, “What are ye doing, lass?”
She whirled. An old woman was standing by the bench, dressed in a long, shapeless coat and baggy tartan scarf. She was watching Ruby with a faint look of amusement on her wrinkled face.
Mortification stole Ruby’s breath. Oh God! Somebody had seen her after all! How would she explain this away? Pretend she was rehearsing a play? That she was a poet trying out some new lines? Or tell the truth and explain that she was desperately trying to get a Fae to send her back in time so she could escape her broken life and visit her cousin?
“I...um...I...” she managed.
The old woman smiled. “I...um...I? Well, that explains it, lass. Carry on. Dinna let me stop ye.” Her eyes, dark like onyx, glittered with humor.
“Actually...I...er...think I’m done now. Bye.” She grabbed the book, stuffed it into her pocket, and turned to leave. But the woman’s voice rang out behind her.
“Ye didnae need all that claptrap in order to speak to me, ye know.”
Ruby froze. Slowly, she turned back to face the old woman. “I beg your pardon?”
The old woman waved a hand at the bench. “All that. Dancing around and chanting silly rhymes. I’ve never understood why people feel the need to do it. It isnae necessary to speak with the Fae.”
Ruby blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“No need to be sorry either.” The old woman stepped forward and offered her hand. In something of a daze, Ruby took it, finding the old woman’s skin warm and dry and her grip surprisingly strong. Her hair, Ruby noticed, was as iron-gray as the Edinburgh sky and pulled back into a severe bun. But her expression was not severe in the least, it was warm and friendly. “I’m Irene,” the old woman said. “Irene MacAskill.”
“Um...Ruby Douglas,” Ruby stammered.
Irene released her hand and nodded. “Aye. I know.”
“You do?”
Irene rolled her eyes. “Do ye think I wouldnae know the name of the person who summoned me? Although ye didnaereallysummon me, since I was coming to talk to ye anyway.”
Ruby stared, waiting for her brain to catch up. “Summoned you? I didn’t—” Then the implications of Irene’s words slowly sank in and her jaw dropped. “Wait. Do you mean...do you mean...you’re one of the...the Fae?”
Irene grinned, dark eyes flashing. “My, my lass, that took ye a while.”
