Magic returned, their Tuatha de Dannan escort opened a gate, and they were gone, heads held high, expressions neutral and serene, as befitted the High King and Queen of the Westlands. Toby had been summoned to see them off. It was supposed to be an honor, something to reflect the great service she had done to the people of the Mists by bringing their rightful Queen back to them. It felt like my parents giving me one last chance to change my mind. I didn’t change my mind. I watched them go, and I blinked back tears, and I didn’t change my mind. Sometimes it’s the things that hurt most that are the most important. There were no Court functions scheduled after the departure of my parents. Arden didn’t have much of a Court yet—just her, Madden, Lowri, and the courtiers she’d been loaned by local nobles who wanted to curry favor with the newly crowned Queen—and even asking her to provide waffles would have been unfair. By seven o’clock Toby and I were back in the car and back on the road, heading for San Francisco at a speed that would probably have resulted in half a dozen traffic tickets if the car hadn’t been enchanted six ways from Sunday.
