Page 81 of My Faire Lady

The lines are so blurred they might as well be one.

We work in silence, peeling away the gown a layer at a time, and while Scarlet gets dressed in a pair of leggings and a tunic, Kelsey helps me coax the piece into the box. When it arrives in Edinburgh, university staff will unbox it and display it on a mannequin with the exact details I laid out in my submission. It’ll be judged, picked apart—its worth determined.

Kelsey hands me the roll of packing tape. “Time for you to do the honor.”

“Thank you,” I whisper. “I never would have entered if you hadn’t convinced me to. And I wouldn’t be here, at the faire, if you hadn’t dragged me along that day.”

She laughs under her breath. “I can’t take credit for that. You left your phone open on the counter the day I came home for the summer. I saw the contest website, and I knew you wouldn’t enter unless someone convinced you. And the faire?” Her gaze flicks toward Scarlet, standing at the table. “That was all her. She’s the reason you’re still here.”

A blush climbs up my neck, and I tape the edges of the box together as Kelsey returns to the front room, straightening up the shoppe.

I straighten the same moment Jeremy steps through the door. He joins Kelsey, and together they carry the box outside and toward the parking lot.

“How are you feeling?” Scarlet asks, coming to my side.

I lean my head on her shoulder. “Nervous.”

She wraps an arm around me, and I sink into her—fitting against her like we were cut from the same block of marble. We’ve kept to our word, toeing the line instead of leaping over, but I need her touch. And I think she knows.

“There’s a part of me that’s relieved,” I continue. “It’s out of my hands now, and all I can do is hope I did enough to win over the judges. But beyond everything, I’m proud. I made that, all by myself, and if I win it’ll be proof that I earned it.”

Scarlet swallows, and her hand falls from my shoulder. “I’ve been thinking about what my mom said in the note, and I think I might know what she meant about the beginning. I need you to come with me.”

I’d go anywhere with her. “Okay.”

The horn sounds in the distance, marking the opening of the faire, and I dig the skeleton key out of my pocket. Scarlet flips the sign on the door to read closed, and I lock it behind us.

Despite being the middle of summer, a cool breeze floats through the air, chilling the skin on the back of my neck. I follow Scarlet across the quad, and we take a path toward the King’s Gate, where a maypole stands proud in a clearing, multicolored ribbons twirling from the top.

“Before this land was turned into a faire, my great-great grandmother ran it as a circus,” Scarlet says as we approach the gate. “All the creatures had their own performances, and it was successful until the animal rights movement gained momentum. We never used animals, obviously, but it was enough for protestors to threaten to burn down the tent.”

Fairgoers dressed as fairies and pirates hand their tickets to someone behind the booth, and even though the Queen’s Gate is where Glen worked, my heart twists. If the magic doesn’t return, I’ll never get to talk to him again. If I leave, he might not wake up.

“And you think this is the beginning your mother was talking about?” I say as we pass under the gate.

It’s a hollow structure—a hallway that extends nearly a hundred meters on either side, giving way to the tall wall that circles the property.

Scarlet grabs my hand and pulls me deeper into the gate. “This was the entrance to the circus, and there’s a set of stairs that leads to a second story. It’s similar to the compound, invisible to an unmagical eye, and it hasn’t been explored in decades. Maybe we’ll find something there.”

The sunlight fades behind us like a light at the end of a tunnel. Scarlet’s hold on me tightens, and she slows, dragging her hand over the walls.

“So, why did you need me to come with you?” I say. “Wouldn’t Boden be more helpful?”

She comes to a sudden halt, and a slight silver glow emanates from her fingertips, casting light over her face. “My magic is stronger when you’re around.”

“Oh.” The words roll out as the space between my ribs widens—making space for her.

The outline of a doorway shimmers on the wall, and Scarlet peers over her shoulder, back toward the entrance of the gate. “Quickly, now.”

She disappears through the doorway and pulls me in, her hand a lifeline as we climb the steep stairs twisting around on themselves. Our feet tap against the metal, rust eating at the edges of the treads.

We come to the top, and an entire second floor stretches out before us. Cobwebs cling to the arched ceilings, and a single window at the end filters light into the space.

“Was this used for storage?” I whisper, my voice carrying.

Scarlet shakes her head. “Seances, mostly. The witches that came before me were particularly vengeful. You didn’t want to get on their bad side.”

I swallow, stepping closer to her.