Glimmerglass - By Jenna Black Page 0,5

stress and sleep-deprivation overload, and my eyes stung with tears. I bit the inside of my cheek to try to keep them contained. If this was just some kind of random selection, then why had the official looked at my passport for so long? And why hadn’t my dad told me it was a possibility? I certainly hadn’t read anything about it in the guide books.

I was led into a sterile gray office with furniture that looked like rejects from a college dorm and a funky smell like wet wool. The imposing woman gestured me into a metal folding chair, then pulled a much more comfortable-looking rolling chair out from behind the desk. She smiled at me again.

“My name’s Grace,” she said. I wasn’t sure if that was a first or a last name. “I’m captain of the border patrol, and I just need to ask you a few questions about your visit to Avalon; then you can be on your way.”

I swallowed hard. “Okay,” I said. Like I had a choice.

Grace leaned over and pulled a little spiral-bound notebook from one of the desk drawers, then readied an intricately carved silver pen over the paper. I guess the Fae aren’t big on using Bics.

“What is the purpose of your visit to Avalon?” she asked.

Well, duh. I’m sixteen years old—I’m not here on a business trip. “I’m here to visit with family.”

She jotted that down, then looked at me over the top of the notebook. “Aren’t you a little young to be traveling unaccompanied?”

I sat up straighter in my chair. Yeah, okay, I was only sixteen, but that’s not that young. I was old enough to balance the checkbook, pay the bills, and drive my mother around when she was too drunk to be allowed behind the wheel. Grace’s eyes flashed with amusement as I bristled, and I managed to tamp down my reaction before I spoke.

“Someone was supposed to meet me at the airport,” I said, though that wasn’t really an answer to her question. “No one showed up, so I just took a taxi. My father’s supposed to meet me when I get through customs.”

Grace nodded thoughtfully, scribbling away. “What is your father’s name?”

“Seamus Stuart.”

“Address?”

“Er, 25 Ashley Lane.” I was glad I’d bothered to ask for his address before showing up. I hadn’t really known I’d need it.

“Was he in the parking area? I can ask him to come in if you’d like.”

“Um, I’ve actually never met him, so I don’t know if he was there or not.” I hoped I wasn’t blushing. I don’t know why I found the fact that I’d never met my father embarrassing, but I did.

She scribbled some more. I wondered how she could possibly be writing so much. It wasn’t like I was telling her my life’s history. And why would the border patrol need to know all this crap? I’d had to answer most of these questions when I’d applied for my visa.

“Am I going to get my luggage back?” I asked, too nervous to sit there and be quiet.

“Of course, dear,” she said with another of those insincere smiles.

Just then, the door to the office opened. The guy in the coverall who’d taken my luggage popped his head in and waited for Grace’s attention. She looked up at him with an arched eyebrow.

“It’s confirmed,” he said.

For the first time, Grace’s smile looked entirely genuine.

“What’s confirmed?” I asked, the genuine smile for some reason freaking me out even more than the fake one.

“Why, your identity, dear. It seems you really are Seamus Stuart’s daughter.”

My jaw dropped. “How did you confirm that?”

“Allow me to introduce myself properly,” she said instead of answering. “My full name is Grace Stuart.” Her smile turned positively impish. “But you may call me Aunt Grace.”

chapter two

I’m sure I was sitting there like an idiot with my mouth hanging open. Grace laughed at the expression on my face as I tried to pull myself together and think.

For the first time since I’d laid eyes on her, I looked past her uniform and her imposing manner to really see her. She was tall and model-thin, her body almost boyish in its lack of curves. Sort of like mine. My hopes that I would one day fill out were dwindling. Her pale blond hair was thick and lustrous, pulled back from her angular face into a braid that trailed down almost to the small of her back. Blue eyes just like mine, except hers had more of an upward tilt.

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