Jane smoothed down the edges of her borrowed dress. The cut and colors were decades out of fashion, but that sort of thing had never bothered her. She was just grateful to have something more dignified than trousers. Then again, Gracie had made trousers look like the most fashionable things a woman had ever worn. Edward certainly seemed to appreciate the view, from the way he kept gazing at her with his mouth open.
She was almost embarrassed for him. Really.
“You both must have a reason to change with the sun,” Gracie said.
“That’s right,” Gran agreed. “It’s a matter of the heart, like I was saying. When you truly want to control your forms, you will.”
This was all feeling very judgmental to Jane. “How can you say that? No one wants to control their change more than I!”
Gran clucked disapprovingly. “Tell me about when you first changed.”
“It was in my time of great emotional need,” Jane said with a lift of her chin. “Just like in the stories. I wanted to avoid getting my head chopped off. And I wanted to save Gifford from being burned at the stake. So I became a ferret and rescued him.”
“A very noble first change.” Edward smiled her way. “And mine, of course, was wanting to avoid being murdered in my bed. I needed to escape, so I did.”
Gran glanced at Gifford as though she expected him to tell the story of his first change, but he just blew out a breath and gazed toward the field surrounding the old castle, like there were places he’d rather be.
“What about your first change, Gran?” Jane asked.
“One of my maids forgot the fruit with my breakfast. I became a skunk and sprayed her.”
Gracie laughed. “That isn’t true, is it?”
Gran lifted an eyebrow. “Are you calling me a liar?”
“I’m calling you a storyteller.”
“Fine. The gardener killed a rosebush and I found myself agitated.”
“Gran!” Edward said. “Tell us the truth.”
“Ah, the truth is a slippery thing,” Gran said, but then she sighed. “Very well. One of my ladies-in-waiting spent the night with my husband.” She waited a beat to make sure they understood what that meant. “I didn’t find out until court, and there in front of everyone, I transformed into a skunk and sprayed in every direction. I was aiming for my cheating husband, you see, and my traitorous lady. But skunks have poor vision, so I had to guess. I guessed incorrectly a few times.”
Jane choked back a laugh. It was an amusing idea, but that had been a time when being an E∂ian was punishable by death.
That was the time Mary wanted to resurrect. Which was a sobering thought.
“It took me some time to control it, too, at first, if you want to know,” Gran admitted gruffly. “I don’t think I understood my heart’s desire back then. I was ruled by baser things.”
Jane gazed down at her feet for a minute. Was she not being honest with herself? What did her heart want?
“All right,” Edward said. “I’m ready to try.”
“Good.” Gran gave two sharp claps. “No more talk of curses.”
“Close your eyes,” Gracie advised. “Sometimes that helps. Think of what you like about your other form. Think about what you want to do in that form.”
Jane had always been a fantastic student. She immediately closed her eyes and recalled what it was like being a ferret. She’d loved being so useful. The way she could hear and smell everything. And she was quite portable, easily draped over Gifford’s shoulder. There wasn’t a better creature to be.
“I want to be a ferret,” she whispered. “I want to be a ferret.”
“Silently, Jane.” Edward sounded vaguely annoyed. “You’re not the only one trying to concentrate.”
She glanced over at her cousin. He was still too thin, too pale with his recent illness—poisoning, she reminded herself—but he did look better. Stronger. Very much alive.
As she watched, the tension around his shoulders eased. His eyes were closed, and he was smiling as if he were picturing something wonderful.
“Sky,” he murmured.
His light flashed so bright that Jane had to squeeze her eyes shut. She heard the flap of wings. Feathers rustling. When she looked up again, Edward was in the air.
She put her hands on her hips. “How did he do that?”
“Just how we said.” Gracie looked from Jane to Gifford, who was still eating grass. “He wanted to become a kestrel enough. It was his heart’s desire.”
Jane was pretty sure that her heart’s desire was to