Days came and went. I woke, ate, slept, and repeated. If Jones called or stopped by, I gathered enough energy to put on a show, pretending to be cheerful and healed, but it was not enough to fool him, not entirely. Because no matter what I said or did, my body withered a little more each day.

Every part of me was a sharp edge. Cheeks, chin, collarbones, elbows, knees, and heart. The latter would be what did me in; I felt it failing a little more every day.

On the first morning of my third week back, I spied a bluebird on my windowsill. They were a rare sight to behold in the city, much less with winter approaching. It ruffled its feathers, eying me reproachfully as I struggled to climb out of bed. Tiny taps of its beak on the glass encouraged me to move faster, stopping at once when I put my hand on the window.

"Curious little thing," I whispered, waiting for it to fly away in fear. Instead, it tilted its head and chirped at me. "Do you want something?"

I was talking to a bird. That had to go on my growing list of reasons I might actually be insane. Except, the bird talked back. Sharp, insistent tweets burst from its beak, and it hopped along the window ledge, wings extended and head down.

"I don't speak bird." I lowered myself onto my knees and propped my chin on my hand. "Niamh probably could, though. She would love you and compliment the blue of your feathers."

It stopped when I said her name. Wings went flush to its body, and it raised its head high as if searching for something. Then it tapped twice more on the glass and flew away, cutting to the right and heading toward the park.

The park. Jones said they found me in the park, which had to mean I crossed back the same way I went into Faerie. There had to be something there. Some hint that I hadn't made it all up, and maybe knowing for sure would give me the strength to hold on long enough to get back.

Moving as quickly as my frail bones would permit, I bathed and dressed, adding more layers than the mild autumn day probably required, but I struggled to stay warm these days. Phone and keys went into my pockets, and I crept down the stairs, pausing every so often to catch my breath.

"You okay there, Luna?" My neighbor, Mr. Krumpler, asked.

"I'm good. Just out of shape," I joked.

At least all the layers hid the weight I'd lost. Mr. Krumpler had a gossiping problem, and it took little for him to start a rumor. By this time tomorrow, he would tell everyone I was dying of some terrible disease. It might be the most truthful rumor he'd ever started.

Getting to the park took triple the time it normally did, and I fought the urge to collapse on the first bench I saw. Only a few more feet, and I would be at the spot where Lorcan first appeared to me. Where he heard my plea and answered. Could he hear me now, and did I trust him enough to go with him if by some miracle, he could take me home?

Wet earth and decaying leaves perfumed the air, and every so often on the breeze, I caught a whiff of smoke. I gulped it, feeding my soul with the bits of this realm that I loved the most. No matter how good the food tasted or how vibrant the colors, the Summer Court could never replace my love for fall and winter. If I couldn't get back, I would try to hold on to this.

"We had to be wrong."

Jones. He stood twenty feet in front of me, roughly in the same place I'd been on the night of my birthday. A purple knitted cap covered his head, and his lips, painted to match the hat, were screwed to the side in a rare scowl. There was no one beside him, and I didn't see a phone or bluetooth in his ear.

"You're being foolish. You could not have brought her back after the full moon if she wasn't."

I clapped my hand over my mouth to smother my gasp and slunk behind a tree. That voice was unmistakable. Eira. The Queen of the Winter Court.

"She's wasting away. That's not supposed to happen."

"Well, you could send her to me."

"Eira, just because I trust you more than the others, it doesn't mean I trust you."

She laughed. It was an icy laugh that made me shiver and hunker down in my coat. Or perhaps I was shivering from the cold sting of betrayal. Jones had tried to convince me I'd made it all up, that I had a head injury, and all along, he was a part of this.

When Eira spoke again, her voice was warmer. "She looks like her. I didn't really expect that."

Were they still talking about me? Who did I look like? Jones mumbled something, then said louder, "So what are the next steps?"

"Same as before. On the winter solstice—"

"She doesn't have that kind of time!"

I jumped, lost my footing, and fell backward into a bush. Branches clacked together and leaves rustled, leaving no chance my fall had gone unnoticed, and I was too weak to free myself quick enough to hide again. So, I laid there, eyes staring through the cracks in the golden canopy, seeking the blue sky and wishing it were slightly more lavender.

"Luna," Jones said, hauling me upright. He dusted the debris from my jacket and stepped back. "You're outside!"

"I am. Funny thing, though. I didn't expect to see you here. You were never much of a park person."

"How long have you been here?"

"Long enough to have questions. Starting with asking you how long you've been friends with Eira."

"Who?" He smacked his lips together and put his hands on his hips. "Girl, I told you we needed to go back to the doctor."

"Stop!" The sole of my boot made a satisfying crack against the paved path as I slammed it down. A sudden wind whipped around us. "I'm sick of your gaslighting. I know what I heard."

"Luna, you hit your head—"

"Yeah, actually. I did. When I jumped into a pool in the cave in the Summer Court. The one where the Summer Prince tried to sacrifice me to break the locks on the portals to our realm."

"There you go—"

"None of that was made up. It all happened!" I screamed every word at him. "But you know what I wish I was making up? My best friend repeatedly lying to me. Now, who—what—are you that you know the Winter Queen?"

He considered lying again. I saw the hesitation flicker in his brown eyes, and then he sighed. Grabbing my arm, he pulled me toward the space between the trees where he'd been talking to Eira.

"Don't puke," he said, putting his arms around me.

"I'm not going to—"

I screamed as the world spun and went upside down. Colors shifted, flashing from one to the next. They were bright and vivid, leaving floating after images behind. All sense of gravity fled, and I didn't know what was up or down. The second we stopped, I shoved Jones away and hunched over, retching the meager contents of my stomach onto the ground.

"What the hell?"

Bracing my hands on my knees and drawing in ragged breaths, I glared at him. All sorts of foul words fought to be the first to cross my tongue, but they dissolved into nothingness when my attention drifted to the sky behind Jones. A periwinkle sky.

Strength infused my bones as I straightened to my full height. "Are we—"

"Welcome back to Faerie, Luna," Jones said with mock cheerfulness.

"B—but how? It's not a full moon."

He picked at the nail polish on his thumb and refused to meet my eyes. "The Vow doesn't affect Changelings."

I had an inkling of what that was. "And you...you're a changeling."

The polish drifted to the ground like a jagged purple snowflake, and he finally looked at me. "I am, and looks like Eira was right. So are you."