Early the next morning, Esme took the scenic route to see her mother: down the curving, lagoon-side path at the edge of the Keeper’s Quarter, then through the tree-lined garden that led to the Anais clinic’s back entrance. As she approached the old building, she saw several of the staff, including Augustine, crowded around outside Ariane’s window.
She broke into a run, slip-sliding through the dew-slick grass toward the group.
‘What happened? Did someone try to break in again?’
Augustine nodded. ‘Through the window. Just like last time.’
Esme, breathless, looked through the glass. Her mother lay there, eyes closed, utterly oblivious to the people outside fretting about her safety.
‘Fortunately, my magical protections held. Whoever it was didn’t even leave a scratch on the glass. We on
