I fled the cellars; I just couldn’t be there any more. And I had to have a shower. All hail modern plumbing! I was barely out and dressed when I felt a buzzing. Isabella wanted me. And suddenly I was just there in her back garden. I kind of knew what was coming.
I always feel like a schoolgirl, called up on the carpet for something or other, when she summons me.
She knew I’d met with Gwythyr, knew something terrible had happened.
I tried to downplay it, but she wasn’t buying it. She wanted to know how I felt about everything in Ash, whether I wanted to accept his power, whether he had taken any of hers.
I told her I thought he’d overlooked her influence and that he only wanted to ruin me.
She said she could help get rid of his influence in me, that we’d meet later when the moon was uncovered so we could sort it out.
She wanted to know if I’d choose him, or her. I told her there wasn’t a choice.
Then she asked me how I felt about leading the Seelie of Ashmourne. I told her I didn’t feel up to the challenge, but that I knew it was something I had to do.
There was more talk to be had about this — that much was clear.
But then Wrennie saved my bacon, no pun intended. She came out of the house, with toast. She gave me a slice: it was sticky with too-sweet American strawberry jam, but I took it anyway, and it was great.
How do I get myself into these messes? I made a hasty retreat, citing tiredness and the need to get some paperwork in order for the university. I’m sure she’ll call me back later, when she’s ready.