anymore.”
Donna swallowed, trying not to let the fear take hold. “I don’t know, but I’m going to have to find out. How else can I help Mom?”
Footsteps clattered to a halt outside the closed door, making her jump nervously. There was no way it was Nurse Valderrama, or any other nurse or doctor. They didn’t wear heels that sounded like that.
Someone tried the door and, on instinct, Donna grabbed the handle and held it so that whoever was on the other side couldn’t get in.
“Donna?” Aunt Paige’s voice was filled with irritation. “Open this door right now.”
Xan watched her at the door, an amused expression crossing his face like a flickering shadow—there one moment, gone the next.
Aunt Paige knocked on the door. “What are you doing in there?” Now she was trying to rattle the handle, but there was no way she’d be able to move it with Donna squeezing it in a death grip. “We have to get to the Frost Estate; we’re going to be late. We can still fit in the final session of the day.”
Sighing dramatically, Donna stepped away from the door and almost laughed when her aunt fell into the room.
Pulling herself up to her full height, and trying to regain some of her lost dignity, Paige straightened her jacket and brushed invisible pieces of lint from the material. “What on earth were you two up to?”
“Nothing, Aunt Paige.” Donna glanced back at her mother, wondering if she really was in a coma or justsleeping. She looked like she was asleep, a fairy-tale princess waiting for a handsome prince to come and wake her from her magically induced slumber. Hadn’t Sleeping Beauty been cursed, too, and by a wicked witch? The Wood Queen was perfectly cast in that role.
Once again, Donna remembered her father’s versions of those tales—in which a prince was pretty useless. It was always the women who fought battles and won wars in Patrick Underwood’s bedtime stories.
Aunt Paige was watching her with an expression of barely suppressed annoyance. “We need to leave. Now.”
Xan touched Donna’s shoulder and she gratefully turned her back on Aunt Paige. He smiled a crooked sort of smile, an expression that had become familiar to her during the few short days that she’d spent with him before that final night in the Ironwood.
“I’ll see you soon, Donna,” he said, his voice filled with certainty.
Sadness gripped her chest as she tried to smile back at him. “Sure. I’ll let you know what happens at the trial.”
Her aunt snorted. “I wish you’d stop calling it that. It’s just a hearing.”
Donna spun to face her. “What’s the difference?”
“You’re not on ‘trial,’ Donna, and you know it. The alchemists simply need to be made aware of what happened, and why what remained of the elixir is no longer in the Order of the Dragon’s care.”
Donna and Xan exchanged a guilty look, and she tried hard not to look at the faint scar on his forehead. Instead,she fiddled with one of the cuffs of her ruby-bright gloves. “You’re conveniently leaving out the part where representatives from the other Orders will decide on my sentence .”
Shaking her hair out of her face, Aunt Paige put her hands on her hips. “It’s not a sentence, it’s a punishment. There’s a difference.”
“I keep trying to tell you, Aunt Paige,” Donna said, raising her chin. “I’m not a child any more. As you said yourself, I’ll be eighteen next year. You can’t keep treating me like this, grounding me and punishing me—”
“You’re not an adult yet,” her aunt cut in sharply. “And the more you argue with me, the more you’re simply proving my point.”
Xan shifted uncomfortably, but kept his mouth shut when Donna shot him a fierce glance. This was nothing to do with him, and she certainly didn’t need him to fight her battles for her.
Paige turned stiffly toward the door. “Come along. I’ve brought the car around front.”
Donna’s stomach twisted, dread filling her as she
Donna swallowed, trying not to let the fear take hold. “I don’t know, but I’m going to have to find out. How else can I help Mom?”
Footsteps clattered to a halt outside the closed door, making her jump nervously. There was no way it was Nurse Valderrama, or any other nurse or doctor. They didn’t wear heels that sounded like that.
Someone tried the door and, on instinct, Donna grabbed the handle and held it so that whoever was on the other side couldn’t get in.
“Donna?” Aunt Paige’s voice was filled with irritation. “Open this door right now.”
Xan watched her at the door, an amused expression crossing his face like a flickering shadow—there one moment, gone the next.
Aunt Paige knocked on the door. “What are you doing in there?” Now she was trying to rattle the handle, but there was no way she’d be able to move it with Donna squeezing it in a death grip. “We have to get to the Frost Estate; we’re going to be late. We can still fit in the final session of the day.”
Sighing dramatically, Donna stepped away from the door and almost laughed when her aunt fell into the room.
Pulling herself up to her full height, and trying to regain some of her lost dignity, Paige straightened her jacket and brushed invisible pieces of lint from the material. “What on earth were you two up to?”
“Nothing, Aunt Paige.” Donna glanced back at her mother, wondering if she really was in a coma or justsleeping. She looked like she was asleep, a fairy-tale princess waiting for a handsome prince to come and wake her from her magically induced slumber. Hadn’t Sleeping Beauty been cursed, too, and by a wicked witch? The Wood Queen was perfectly cast in that role.
Once again, Donna remembered her father’s versions of those tales—in which a prince was pretty useless. It was always the women who fought battles and won wars in Patrick Underwood’s bedtime stories.
Aunt Paige was watching her with an expression of barely suppressed annoyance. “We need to leave. Now.”
Xan touched Donna’s shoulder and she gratefully turned her back on Aunt Paige. He smiled a crooked sort of smile, an expression that had become familiar to her during the few short days that she’d spent with him before that final night in the Ironwood.
“I’ll see you soon, Donna,” he said, his voice filled with certainty.
Sadness gripped her chest as she tried to smile back at him. “Sure. I’ll let you know what happens at the trial.”
Her aunt snorted. “I wish you’d stop calling it that. It’s just a hearing.”
Donna spun to face her. “What’s the difference?”
“You’re not on ‘trial,’ Donna, and you know it. The alchemists simply need to be made aware of what happened, and why what remained of the elixir is no longer in the Order of the Dragon’s care.”
Donna and Xan exchanged a guilty look, and she tried hard not to look at the faint scar on his forehead. Instead,she fiddled with one of the cuffs of her ruby-bright gloves. “You’re conveniently leaving out the part where representatives from the other Orders will decide on my sentence .”
Shaking her hair out of her face, Aunt Paige put her hands on her hips. “It’s not a sentence, it’s a punishment. There’s a difference.”
“I keep trying to tell you, Aunt Paige,” Donna said, raising her chin. “I’m not a child any more. As you said yourself, I’ll be eighteen next year. You can’t keep treating me like this, grounding me and punishing me—”
“You’re not an adult yet,” her aunt cut in sharply. “And the more you argue with me, the more you’re simply proving my point.”
Xan shifted uncomfortably, but kept his mouth shut when Donna shot him a fierce glance. This was nothing to do with him, and she certainly didn’t need him to fight her battles for her.
Paige turned stiffly toward the door. “Come along. I’ve brought the car around front.”
Donna’s stomach twisted, dread filling her as she
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