“For now.”

The sound of footsteps receded. A door slammed further away. The master suite was down that same hallway. “Sounds like the sisters have retreated,” I said.

Persi stood and set her book aside. “But they’ll never surrender. They’re certain the Covenant will have all our answers. Wickham is holding out hope that there is more than one copy. And the longer he holds out…”

“The more witches die…”

The living roomfire went to waste.

Back in our classroom setting, we sat in strained silence, each on their own computer, searching for who knows what. I searched for mentions in the news of Trinity College and reports of missing persons from their library staff, but I found nothing.

I didn’t dare look Wickham’s way, let alone ask him if he happened to have executed a certain purple-eyed fairy. I remembered how those eyes sparkled when he pulled that lavender gem out of his pocket. It was hard to believe it was the same woman who had me kidnapped and searched, the same woman who had inflicted as much damage as two big men, with a single stomp of her foot.

Wickham’s advice was engraved in me now.Never trust a Fae. Not a word. Not a smile. And especially not a forecast of doom.

But did I want her dead?

I wondered how fairies might be punished. But who would hold them accountable? Other fairies? Were there lesser punishments than death? I decided to count my blessings and be glad her punishment wasn’t up to me…

Wickham’s words repeated in my head again.Never trust a Fae. Not a word. Not a smile. And especially not a forecast of doom.

I gasped, then repeated them out loud. “Wickham! You said it yourself. She couldn’t be trusted. So, when she said our answers couldn’t be found in those books at Trinity…”

Wickham leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face, hiding his reaction. But when his hands fell away and he got to his feet, his eyes sparkled like that fairy’s. “Come on, Lennon. Let’s go to the library.” He held up his hand to stop me from touching him. “Let me see that the coast is clear.”

He popped out.

I wondered if maybe the fairies had sent a replacement for the woman with galaxies on her fingernails. I pulled Hank from inside my cast and handed it to Persi. “Just in case.”

Wickham popped back again and took my hand.

We didn’t haveto bother with library cards and charming old Irishmen from the snowy countryside. We just inhaled Scottish air and exhaled it inside the restricted section of Trinity College Library, a few steps from the little piece of tape that readFae—do not touch. My body, it seemed, was getting used to the sensation of popping; I didn’t feel the least bit queasy.

Wickham found two sets of white gloves and we stepped into the narrow row as we pulled them on. The long bar was still locked in place—protecting nothing but air—and he cursed.

We stared at the empty shelf for a bit, then he sighed and reached for my hand. I pulled it out of reach. “Wait. Just wait. Do you think she came back to hide them on other shelves? Or do you think they’re really gone?”

“I think she would want them protected, not just out on a shelf, hidden in plain sight, where anyone might touch them.”

“But if she could have removed them at any time, why didn’t she? Why were they allowed to be here in the first place?”

Wickham shook his head.

“What if they wererequiredto be here? What if locks and keys and plexiglass were the only way they could protect their own history?”

He blinked a few times, trying to follow my logic. “Then she couldn’t have removed them.”

“So if she couldn’t remove them…” I turned and reached up, over the bar, and felt for that box with the loose pages.

Nothing.

I swept my hand to the right just to make sure and hit something—something I couldn’t see. I turned wide eyes to Wickham, and his eyes crinkled, much like the way his sisters’ did when they smiled.

He pulled a wad of keys from his pocket and sorted through them. His hands shook, but he got the lock open.

I chuckled. “Just one problem. How do we read pages we cannot see?”

“One impossibility at a time, love.”