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were interested in was the cut of everyone's clothing and their hats. Hats, hats, hats.
    Max unhitched Mavis to let her forage in the chicory behind the temple, which she loved. He joined Cade and Cissa, quite aware of the emerald necklace around the fairy’s neck.
    “Max, I was just telling Cade that Morning Glory says Lilith was conceived here inside the temple,” Cissa said.
    “I like that,” Cade said. “I choose to believe it.”
    “Did you see Beverly yet?” Max asked. “Has she set the boundary at the wishing portal?”
    “Mission accomplished,” Cade said. “She’s set it to last a day and an hour, as Cissa suggested. It will stop any wanderers from accidentally falling in.”
    The queen bobbled her head and grinned prettily, delighted as always to take credit for a good idea. What a self-involved imp she was! She was happier today than she’d been in a long time, and it gladdened Max’s heart to see it.
    “The last thing we need is to lose a guest to the mists of time,” Cade said. “Unless it’s a Sarumen, of course.”

« Chapter 8 »
Seven Ways of Looking at a Gifting
    I. Cammy
    Dragonflies danced over the pristine lake and its lush surrounding lawns. Beyond, the branches of nine ancient hazel trees were thick with blossoms. West of the water, butterflies of varied and fantastical colors fluttered about a Grecian temple that looked perfect for a Pride and Prejudice film location.
    Bordering all, massive rhododendrons, hydrangeas, camellias, and lilacs provided a feeling of gentle seclusion. A spring breeze whooshed over the grass and through the shrubs, lifting skirts and knocking off hats. Cammy drew the fresh air into her lungs and smiled inwardly, thinking that Aeolios—or more likely his cranky wife, Lourdes—wanted to remind the guests that the gods existed and were always watching.
    “It’s just as I knew it would be,” she said. “Faeview’s grounds are perfect for a faeling’s gifting celebration.”
    “A faeling.” Bella frowned.
    “Lady Lexi must have fae blood. Look at her grandmother,” Cammy said. “Grandmother! The lady looks younger than you or I. Frown all you want, Bella. I don’t care. I know I’m right.”
    From a choice of seating arrangements, she and her sister had commandeered a thick, richly colored Turkish rug laid out on the grass along with throw pillows and parasols. For the less adventurous, or the less decadent, wicker chairs and tables were available.
    “Her ladyship wasn’t kidding when she said fancy dress,” Bella said. “What do you think they’re all supposed to be?”
    “I think the little cute ones are pixies, and the ones with the slouch hats are leprechauns,” Cammy said. “The tall, beautiful ones are fairies.”
    “What about over by the water, those blokes with the black harps tattooed on their biceps? Bella said. “Urban punk Irish?”
    “Don’t turn up your nose. One might put a spell on you.” From Cammy’s research, they were likely a contingent of the Tuatha Dé Danaan . “Relax. Enjoy—”
    “Oh! Cam, look.”
    A pair of steely wings popped out of the back of the darkly handsome guy talking to Lord Dumnos. They extended, undulating as if possessed of their own sinister intentions, then retracted and disappeared. The fairy made Cammy quite nervous, but she wasn’t about to admit it.
    This isn’t fancy dress at all. It’s real .
    “How… how fun,” she said. Let Bella keep her illusions if it made her feel safer. Let her cling to the notion this was all for show. “It’s like we’re in a play. A Midsummer Day’s Dream .”
    “Only it’s not midsummer, Cam. And we’re awake.”
    “Yes, dearest.” Cammy sighed. She had to accept it. Bella had no imagination at all, and moving to Tintagos hadn’t helped. “I’m sure you’re always awake.”
    “One of us has to be.”
    “You’re not going to forgive me for what you saw in the magic mirror, are you?”
    “I don’t want to talk about it.”
    “Then