"Wow, are you one of the ones who has to find a key? How come you were chosen?"
She let out a little breath. Her son was a bright and logical boy. "I don't know exactly. We look—Mal, Dana, and I—we look like the daughters. The Daughters of Glass, they're called. Rowena's an artist, and she has a painting of them at the Peak. It's connections, Simon. There's something that connects us to each other, to the keys, and to the daughters. I guess you could say it's fate."
"If you don't find the keys, they're just stuck in the box?"
"Their souls are. Their bodies are in glass coffins—um, like Snow White. Waiting."
"Rowena and Pitte, they're the teacher and the guard." He nodded. "And you and Malory and Dana have to find the keys and fix everything."
"Pretty much. Malory and Dana have already had their turns, and they each found the key. It's my turn now."
"You'll find it." He gave her a solemn nod. "You always find stuff when I lose it."
If only, she thought, it was as simple as finding her son's favorite action figure. "I'm going to try as hard as I can. I have to tell you, Simon, the sorcerer—his name is Kane—he's tried to stop us. He'll try to stop me. It's really scary, but I have to try."
"You'll kick his butt."
The laugh eased some of the knots in her stomach. "That's my plan. I wasn't going to tell you all this, but then it didn't seem right not to."
"Because we're a team."
"Yeah, we're a great team."
She paused at the open gates of Warrior's Peak.
The gates were flanked by two stone warriors, hands ready on the hilts of their swords. They looked so fierce to her, so formidable. Connections? she thought. What connection could someone like her have to warriors at the gate?
Still, taking a deep breath, Zoe drove through.
"Holy cow," Simon said beside her.
"And then some."
She understood his reaction to the house. Hers had been the same wide-eyed, slack-jawed stare the first time she'd seen it up close.
Though "house," she supposed, was too ordinary a word for the Peak. Part castle, part fortress, it stood high over the Valley, rose up like the majestic hills and ruled them. Its peaks and towers were made of black stone with gargoyles perched on eaves as if they might leap, not so playfully, at their whim. It was a massive place, surrounded by lush lawns that slid into thick woods gone shadowy with evening.
High on the topmost tower flew a white flag with the emblem of a golden key.
The sun was setting behind it, so the canvas of the sky was streaked with red and gold, adding yet another layer of drama.
Soon the sky would be black, Zoe thought, with only the thinnest sliver of moon. Tomorrow was the first night of the new moon, the beginning of her quest.
"It's really something inside, too. Like something you'd see in a movie. Don't touch anything." "Mom."
"I'm nervous. Give me a break." She drove slowly toward the entrance. "But, really, don't touch anything in there."
She stopped the car, and hoped she wasn't the first, or the last, to arrive, then took out a lipstick to replace what she'd worried off since leaving home. Automatically, she flicked her fingers over the ruler-straight ends of the hair she now wore shorter than her son's.
"You look good, okay? Can we go?"
"I want us to look great." She caught his chin in her hand, and used the comb she'd plucked out of her purse to tidy his hair while he crossed his eyes at her. "If you don't like what they give us for dinner, just pretend to eat it, but don't say you don't like it, or make those gagging noises. I'll fix you something else when we get home."
"Can we go by McDonald's?"
"We'll see. We're fine. We're great. Okay." She dropped the comb back in her purse and started to open the car door.
The old man who greeted guests and took care of their cars was there to do it for her. He always made her jump. "Oh. Thank you."
"My pleasure, Miss. Good evening to you."
Simon gave him a long study. "Hi."
"Hello, young master."
Liking the title, Simon grinned at him and walked closer. "Are you one of the magic people?"
The creases in the old face deepened and shifted into a broad smile. "It might be I am. What would you think of that?"
"Sweet. But how come you're so old?"
"Simon."
"It's a good question, Miss," he said in response to Zoe's horrified hiss. "I'm so old because I've had the pleasure of living a long time. I wish you the same pleasure." He leaned down with a creak of bones until his face was level with Simon's. "Would you like to know a true thing?"
"Okay." "We're all of us magic people, but some know it and some don't."
He straightened again. "I'll see to your car, Miss. Have a nice evening."
"Thank you." She took Simon's hand and walked to the portico and the twin entrance doors. They opened before she could knock, and there was Rowena.
Her flame-tipped hair tumbled gloriously over the shoulders of a long dress the green of forest shadows. A silver pendant hung between her breasts, its clear center stone winking in the sparkling light of the entrance hall.
As always, her beauty was a quick shock, like an electric jolt.
She held out a hand in welcome to Zoe, but her eyes—a bolder, richer green than her gown— were all for Simon.
"Welcome." There was a lilt to her voice, echoing those of the foreign lands Zoe had once longed to see. "It's good to see you again. And such a pleasure to meet you, Simon, at last."
"Simon, this is Miss Rowena."
"Just Rowena, please, for I hope we'll be friends. Come in, won't you?" She kept Zoe's hand in hers, and touched the other to Simon's shoulder.
"I hope we're not late."
"No, not at all." Rowena stepped back, leading the way over the tile floor with its colorful mosaics. "Most of the others are here, but Malory and Flynn haven't yet arrived. We're in the parlor. Tell me, Simon, do you like calf's liver and brussel sprouts?"
He made gagging noises before he remembered his mother's order, but even as he caught himself Zoe was flushing. And Rowena's laugh flowed around them. "Since I feel exactly the same, it's fortunate they're not on the menu tonight. Our latest arrivals," she announced as she stepped into the parlor. "Pitte, come meet young Master McCourt."
Simon slid his gaze up to his mother, nudged her with his elbow. "Master," he said with great satisfaction, out of the corner of his mouth.
Rowena's lover matched her in looks. His powerful warrior's build was garbed in an elegant dark suit. His mane of black hair swept back from a strong face where the bones seemed carved under the flesh. His eyes, a brilliant blue, studied Simon as he lifted one elegant brow and extended a hand.
"Good evening, Mr. McCourt. And what can I offer you to drink?"
"Can I have a Coke?" "Certainly."
"Please, be at home." Rowena gestured.
Dana had already risen to cross the room. "Hey, Simon. How's it going?"
"Fine. Except I lost a buck because that guy and Brad are wearing suits."
"Bad luck."
"I'm going to go talk to Brad, okay, Mom?"
"All right, but—" She sighed as he dashed off. "Don't touch anything," she added under her breath.
"He'll be fine. How about you?"
"I don't know." She looked at her friend, one of the people she'd come to trust completely. The dark brown eyes looked back at hers with an understanding that only one other person could have. "I guess I'm a little wound up. Let's not think about it yet. You look great."
It was perfectly true. The dense brown hair fell in a sleek, swinging bell two inches below Dana's strong chin. It was a good look for her, if Zoe, who'd styled it, said so herself.
It relieved her that Dana had chosen a brick-colored jacket over the more formal black.
"Even better," she added, "you look happy." She lifted Dana's left hand to admire the square-cut ruby. "Jordanhas great taste in jewelry, and in fiancйes."