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“But I can’t do magic,” Starling replied, eying the green gown. “And I think that one is a definite keeper—great with your eyes.”
“Thank you.” I set down the whiskey and grabbed a couple more gowns. “You know, where I come from, no one does magic. But I’m surprised how much the rules make sense. I think there’s more magic going on than we realize. The world tends to be the way we expect it to be. I think people influence the world around them on a daily basis a lot more than they know.”
When had I thought about this? I had no idea. Perhaps part of me had been there all along, hiding and assimilating.
“So, what I’m saying is, if you want to—it wouldn’t hurt to try—concentrate on looking like this and see what happens. Maybe if you want it badly enough, the change will persist even after I’m no longer paying attention to it.”
When I came out from behind the screen, in a yellow gown, Starling was fiercely staring at herself in the mirror. I hoped she wouldn’t break it.
“Easy,” I said, handing her a fresh glass of wine. “Just want it with your usual level—believe me, that’s plenty. And enjoy it. Let it be welcome in your life.” I hesitated. “Be happy when you see it. Don’t… When you see your hair, think of yourself and your pleasure in it, never your neighbor. Let that be gone now.”
She nodded at me in the mirror, though she didn’t look convinced. Then she frowned.
“Problem?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“That color isreallydreadful on you.”
I laughed, forced to agree.
By the time Lady Blackbird joined us, we’d generated two piles, keepers and dreadfuls. The sun was slanting into evening. And we were thoroughly toasted. Not that it took much for me now. The room smelled toasted, too. Tossing the oatmeal dress into the fireplace ended up being quite a bit smokier than we’d planned on. Starling reclined on her chaise, pulling the tips of her hair over her forehead so she dangled them over her eyes. I sat on the floor, going through the trunk of winter things, though I was feeling more sleepy than ambitious at this point.
“Well, look at the two of you, all prettied up!” Blackbird sang out, as if we were two girls playing dress-up and changing our hair was an everyday game. She set down the wooden box she was carrying and cupped her hands on Starling’s cheeks, pursing her lips. “It suits you, baby bird—you look lovely.” And she kissed her on the nose. “Though I wish you’d forget about that foolish RosePetal.”
“RosePetal?” I snorted and Starling rolled her eyes.
“Lady Gwynn, I have something of yours to return.” Blackbird retrieved her wooden box and set it down next to me, then poured herself a glass of wine.
I paused in opening the box—hadn’t there been only two glasses on the cart?
Starling saw me looking. “Magic cocktail cart,” she assured me. “Only one like it ever. Daddy got it as a reward. He could pick anything he wanted and the man picks a cart that never runs out of booze and always has enough clean glasses for everyone.”
Sounded like a man after my own heart. “A reward for what?”
“The usual heroics.” Blackbird waved that away as unimportant.
“If you’re a half-breed, then he’s human—like me?” I looked from mother to daughter, who both nodded solemnly. “How did he get here?”
“There are many of your kind here, Lady Gwynn.”
“And, like you, Daddy came from the other world,” Starling added.
“Where is he? Can I meet him?”
They exchanged exasperated looks. “No,” Blackbird sighed. “Not this time. I’m afraid he’s off chasing another rumor on how to get back through the veil. He’s been gone months now. He’ll turn up one day and mope around for a while.”
“What rumor is he chasing?”
“Nonsense, is what it is.” Blackbird sounded gentle but intractable. “Open your box, dear.”
I obeyed, my mind chewing on how to meet this man. Then I breathed out a sigh. My Ann Taylor dress. She had promised and I should have never doubted. My silk panties lay neatly folded in there, too. Perched on top, a sedate version of Dorothy’s ruby slippers, were my Nine West heels. Already the clothes seemed like an ancestor’s relic found in the attic, remnants of another world, another time.
“I’ve never seen undergarments like that,” Starling said. “Mama only let me look at them, not touch.”
“So you wouldn’t disturb the magic,” Blackbird said over her shoulder. “That’s why I washed them myself, in rainwater.”
