I heard once that some people believed black birds, crows, ravens, and others, were bad omens. With her pinched face and lithe figure, my aunt struck me as just such an omen as she descended from the bank to where I still sat at the river's edge. My eyes blurred from tears and panic. I opened my mouth, trying to find the words to explain or to say anything at all.

"Get up, girl." I blinked at her numbly, not comprehending. "For heavens sake, stand up. You are not a fishwife, tending her nets." She glared at me, her hands on her hips as she drew even with me, before she sighed and hauled me to my feet. Her fingers dug into my arm and the harsh movement jolted me into a stumble.

"Did you see?" I pressed her, ignoring her glare and searching her face with darting eyes. "Could you see?"

"Did I see what?" If her face was pale from anger or complexion, I could not tell, but my confusion doubled. She gave no sign of anything other than frustration and disgust, her lip curled and her eyes narrowed.

"My mother by the river and just now in the sky." I pointed to where the faerie had just disappeared, to the east and far over the treetops. "You must've, it would've been impossible to miss."

She stared at me, her mouth moving wordlessly. She clenched her jaw and pivoted on her heel, returning back in the direction of the maze.

"Aunt, wait!"

She did not wait, striding with purpose to the maze's rear exit and walking in with a confidence I had never mustered. I dashed after her, almost falling over myself in my haste. If I lost track of her, I would have to wait until we were both free from the hedge maze to speak again. I followed close behind her, even as she attempted to increase her pace and lose me around one of the dark corners.

"Aunt, please!"

"Stop it." She whirled on me. "It is one thing for me to come here because my sister-in-law has lost her mind, it's quite another for my niece to be shortly following her."

I reared back as if struck. "I'm sorry, I don't think I understand. Didn't you see what happened?"

Had I imagined it? I shook my head. No, I couldn't have. Never in my wildest dreams would I have dreamed up a faerie abduction. In the gloom, I could not make out my aunt's full expression, but I could see the shadow the stern glare cast on the rest of her face and the tightness of her jaw as she clenched and unclenched it. The whites of her eyes were stark against the dark, wide and gleaming.

"I saw your mother fall into the river, and you did as well."

"What?" I grabbed her arm, stopping her as she went to turn away. "No, I didn't."

"You did. Was that not why you were down by the river, crying?" She tried to shake me off, but to no avail. I held firm. She was not much taller than I, but she was thinner and had less muscle, giving me the advantage in a battle of wills and strength.

"No, it was not. Why are you saying these things?"

"Because it is the truth. It has to be the truth." She succeeded in shaking me off, but only because I'd loosened my grip, taking a step away. Reeling, I leaned close to one of the hedge walls, wishing it was made of firmer stuff than leaves and branches. I searched my own memories of the events of the night— of the fae man, his wings, the tracks of tears on his face as he lifted my mother away. I couldn't have imagined it. I still had the dirt of the river bank under my fingernails and the ache in my legs from what only could've been fae magic.

"It's a lie. I must tell Father, he has to know what's happened." I sweep by her, pulling up short when she grabs the back of my dress.

"You should not tell him anything, I know my brother."

I gaped at her in disbelief, but a flush of indignant triumph pulsed through me. "So you admit that you saw something!"

She colored, her cheekbones dotting with patches of red. "I saw nothing of note, and nothing that should be mentioned to my brother. You don't know him as I do."

We stood still, at an impasse as she still held firm to my dress and I continued to search her face for the reason that I could not find in her words. If it was a fae, I had to tell Father.

"He'll believe me if you agree with me," I insisted, untangling her hand from my dress and attempting to hold it in both of mine. She wrenched it away with a sneer and I let my own hang back by my side. He would be inclined to believe me regardless, but not if my aunt swore Mama had fallen into the river. "Please, if it means he can find my mother, I must tell him. Unless you want me to attempt to find her on my own?"

It was a sudden suggestion, but it felt true in my heart. If he didn't go, I would. I was not one for adventure, I did not dream of journeys and honor like my sister, Harriet, often did. But I would leave in an instant for my mother or any of my siblings. I would give up any of my usual comforts, of what I knew, if it meant my mother could return.

"There's no need for such talk. I will not say I saw them."

"Saw who, Linette?"

My eyes snapped to the left, where the voice came from, my pulse racing even faster. Stepping from the shadows like a shade from a tale, my father peeled away from the hedges to the left of us, coming up to us and placing himself beside me. He looked down his nose at his sister, towering over her even as he patted my hand comfortingly in his typical way.

Usually, my father wasn't the foreboding type, nor threatening in the slightest. Even now, he had ink stains on his fingers and the white fabric of his shirt, the sleeves billowing out at the shoulders from his tweed vest. He looked more academic than duke, and more reader than voyager with his reading glasses still perched on his nose from earlier in the day, but he stood tall and resolute. In the face of her brother's question, my aunt floundered, stepping away from us and using her hands as she spoke.

"Oh! I was just telling Clara that her secret is safe with me, she needn't worry of word of this going around town." I raised an eyebrow at the clear lie, but my father did not seem to notice it.

"And what secret would this be?" He turned his attention to me, and I looked back and forth between the two of them. My aunt looked on me beseechingly, her lips pulled taught and her brows furrowed. My father waited for my reply, his arms now crossed over his chest. I swallowed, knowing what I had to say, but knowing too that it would put my aunt and I at odds.

"Father, I saw Mama by the river, but she was not alone. A faerie, a man, was with her." The words tumbled out, the rest coming faster as his expression grew concerned, his mouth softening at the edges and his arms loosening over his chest. "I tried to reach her, I swear it, but the second he saw me I could not move. I even tried to ask his name."

"Dear, calm yourself," my father said, although his face now was pale with worry. His hands shook as he lifted an arm to rub soothing circles into my back. It was a stilted motion, unfamiliar and out of character. "If he was fae, he would never tell you his name. What else happened?"

"I tried to speak more, but I couldn't. I tried to stop him, but when I called out, he only looked my way. He picked her up and he flew away." I motioned with my hand in the direction that I believe I saw them leave. It was hard to tell in the maze, but the moon's angle told me enough. My father followed my gesture, his eyes taking in the picture of the star-filled sky.

I looked too, willing the fae man to reappear, carrying my mother once more, but there was nothing but a few scattered clouds to break up the evening sky. I had not truly believed he would return, but every time I looked up, I half-expected to see her there. Neither my aunt nor my father said a word as all three of us kept our heads tilted towards the moon.

"What did he look like?" Father asked, his voice a husky-quiet. I pulled my focus from the stars to look at him, taking in his still shaking his hands and the way he frantically searched the air for his wife.

"He wore a doublet of silver, and had blonde hair of honeyed yellow, a pale face, and a sharp nose. His cheekbones were high, and his ears pointed."

"What of his wings?" This was said by my aunt, and I turned now to her. For all the worry my father showed in his expression, she vibrated on a different frequency. Her hands were in fists by her sides, and her eyes narrowed.

"They were almost translucent, with clear panels surrounded by edges of blue, silver, and lavender," I trailed off, thinking more on his appearance, of what I could see from where I'd been rooted. "He wore a crown of glass and jewels. Father, do you think he was a prince?"

I watched as my father's lips went from a grieved half-parted mouth to form a grim line and his eyes hardened. I glanced towards my aunt, finding her expression to be a matching set. I frowned, unsure of what to make of this.

"Who he is really is of no matter," Father replied, taking one last look at the sky before looping his arm with mine and beginning to lead me back through the maze. His pace quickened, and I hurried to keep up with him, nearly tripping on the roots of some of the hedges we passed. "But I will find him."

"You will?" I spied my aunt from the corner of my eye, her shoulders and frame as stiff as one of the marble statues standing guard in the false exits of the maze. "How will you find him, Father?"

"I know more of this faerie than you'd think," he assured me, anger coloring his tone and shortening his words into clipped syllables. "We must make haste. I have much to finish before the night is over and I fear I have a long journey ahead of me."

"Can I help?" I searched my brain for ideas, for ways I could assist. "Can I come with you?"

We reached the edge of the maze, and my father stopped as we were about to head back up the path. He took me by the shoulders, looking into my eyes with a fierceness I wouldn't expect from him.

"No, this is something I must do on my own. It is time for me to expand to the outer reaches. Before we return to the house— Clara, you must know that none of this is your fault."

"But Father—"

"No, I know you saw it happen, but just because you witnessed it does not mean you are at blame." His expression softened, and he pulled me into a tight hug that brought tears to my eyes. I couldn't remember the last time he'd hugged me, the last time I'd been held by one of my parents. I breathed in deep, my head against his shoulder and below his chin, smelling his ever-present scent of fresh parchment and tea leaves. "I will find your mother, but I need you to be strong and to help your aunt look after your siblings."

I pulled away from my father, glancing behind him. My aunt's face belied the feelings I felt on the matter; utter reluctance.

"Would it not be better for us to call on Matilde or Mrs. Landon? I am nearly twenty, I am sure I could care for my siblings aptly, as well." I thought of my mother's friend, Matilde, and her kind ways or Mrs. Landon and her familiar ones. "Amelia and James may not take well to a stranger caring for them."

"It is my fault that you are strangers to each other. Perhaps something good can come of this."

My mind flashed to the stilted conversation over tea earlier in the night and the way my aunt had attempted to convince me to lie. I've never been one for holding a grudge, but my first impression was a rocky one. I thought too of my sister. Harriet was far more strong-willed than I, but harbored a deep love and devotion for our two younger siblings. If there were ever two people more per-disposed to clash, it would be Harriet and my aunt.

"I'm really not sure—"

"Clara, I know this will mean a great deal of change, but please, do this for me. Between the two of you, I know I will be able to rest easy knowing our home and your siblings are in good hands."

My refusal died on my lips as I took in the rumpled state of his vest and the thinning flyaways of his hair. If he were to find my mother, he was right; he couldn't stay here worrying on whether his children will mutiny against his sister. I glanced towards her, attempting to ignore the dread that clamored from my stomach up my throat, leaving a sour taste in my mouth.

I couldn't put my finger on why, but I knew this wouldn't be nearly so simple as just getting along.

"Of course, Father. Anything to help you find Mama faster."

He beamed at me, albeit wearily, coming forward to kiss me on the top of my head.

"That's my girl." He pulled away from me, giving me one last worn smile before turning on his heel and jogging up the path. He called over his shoulder one last request that filled me with even more apprehension. "Tell your siblings I will be departing the day after tomorrow."

I watched as he disappeared from sight, leaving my aunt and I in the garden alone. Neither of us spoke for a moment, but my aunt gestured to the path, a strange look in her eye.

"After you."

I nodded and began to lead the way back to the house, all the while feeling like I'd made a crucial mistake.