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didn’t know if she liked this and was just as happy when Rowan asked, “Why didn’t the Ani-thingummy thank you, Bran? You’re the one who came back to life. If something happened because of that, shouldn’t you get the credit?”
    â€œAnd not our dumb old sister,” James added under his breath, just loud enough for Meg to hear.
    â€œOch, it’s just luck it happened to me. Could have been any one of you brought back to life—that’s not what matters. I was the fiddle, Meg the fiddler. It wasn’t any of my doing.”
    â€œYou volunteered to fight for the Unseelie Court,” Meg pointed out. “You volunteered to die . If you hadn’t done that, none of the rest would have happened.”
    â€œAh, weel, men die willingly every day. Not so much in that.”
    â€œThe truth is we don’t know,” Phyllida interrupted, tired of competing possibilities. It made her head hurt a bit, rather like when Lysander tried to argue politics with her. “The Cherokee spirit went away, right? Well, I say unless it comes back, we don’t have to trouble ourselves with it.”
    â€œBut what if that’s not all that woke up?” Bran asked. No one had an answer they were willing to speak aloud.
    â€œWell,” said Silly at last, “if we don’t know for sure the weatherstone was meant for Meg, can I have it?”
    Of course Meg wanted to keep it for herself, but of course she said yes, and Silly grabbed her treasure and took it to the doorway, comparing the cloud puffs to the floating specks of white in the stone. They were an exact match.
    â€œDid you find Moll?” Meg asked, willing to bring up that unpleasant subject if it took some of the attention off her.
    Phyllida shook her head. “They had search parties out all night, and not a trace of her. Cain’s uncle has a hound that’s supposed to be a prime tracker, but he’s in Penzance, so it will be a while before they can have a try. I know she’s looking for the Green Hill to ask the fairies for a boon, but it does us no good to look there, since she doesn’t know where it is.” She turned to Dickie and Finn. “You can’t find the Green Hill unless it wants to be found. Only my family can find it whenever they like.” Which Finn already knew from experience, Dickie from research and conjecture. “I called on the Seelie Court for help, but they wouldn’t answer my summons.” That wasn’t unusual. The fairies, capricious and only rarely concerned with human matters, couldn’t be controlled even by their own Guardian.
    â€œWe’ll help,” Rowan said authoritatively. Meg managed to hide her annoyance. Last night when she asked for his help he preferred to eat and sleep than comb the woods. Now, in front of Phyllida and Lysander and Bran, he looked all good and noble for volunteering to help in the search. No one seemed to care that she was the only one to brave darkfall and storms and Cherokee spirits and … wasn’t there some other danger too? It seemed there was, but—funny—she couldn’t recall.
    Now Rowan was mustering the forces like a general and bossing everyone. No, she had to admit it wasn’t really bossing. Her brother had a knack for leadership which Meg entirely lacked. It wasn’t that she was a follower by nature, only that she couldn’t rouse and inspire people to her own way of thinking. She frequently had good ideas, but it was up to the others to decide whether they should follow them. If not, she either had to pursue them herself or follow someone else against her better judgment, giving ominous warnings like poor mad Cassandra.
    They were clearing the breakfast dishes and discussing their search strategy (with Meg muttering I was going to go anyway, you know ) when Wooster came in and announced, “There is a, ahem, gentleman here to see you, my lady.” Even the