Ever since Noli returned from Findlay House, from her stay in the Otherworld, things had changed. Her mother had decided that since she now looked the lady, her hoyden ways supposedly “cured” by that dreadful school, that she would now become one. That meant a return to the parties, teas, and social events she’d hated even when they’d been moneyed and respected. Fixing cars or working in the garden was always preferable to balls.

The now-dry skeins of hair went in the basket. She’d weave them into a watch chain for James. This way he could carry a piece of her wherever he went.

Let’s prune the roses, the sprite suggested.

It was hard not to sigh. When the queen had taken away Noli’s mortality, she’d turned her into a sprite. Well, sort of. V and James had done something, preventing her from losing all of herself during the transformation. However, she was left with the body and abilities of a sprite and a sprite sharing the space in her head. Calling it awkward was an understatement.

The roses did need pruning, and the beautiful Los Angeles fall day called to her. Later. We have other things to do before Mama returns from the shop. Like washing dishes, fixing the upstairs shutters, and adjusting the steam-powered sewing machine she’d made for her mother to make dressmaking faster.

The sprite mentally pouted. Really, Noli would rather prune roses than wash dishes. Every day it became increasingly difficult to keep the sprite from taking over completely. Some days resisting the sprite grew physically painful. Not to mention being a sprite made some things harder—like thinking.

You think too much, the sprite piped up.

Ugh. She pushed the sprite back into her mental closet. The last thing she wanted was for the sprite to take over—then she’d never get her chores done.

Across the yard, V’s window in the Darrow residence next door remained dark. An entire day and V still hadn’t returned from the Otherworld. Worry consumed her, especially since she knew why the queen had asked to meet with her best friend and beau. He owed the High Queen a favor, the price of the bargain which had freed Noli from the Otherworld and caused her current sprite predicament. Hopefully, he’d fare well.

Noli climbed down the bent oak, basket on her arm. The soft whirr of a solar-powered hoverboard echoed behind her.

“Very funny, James.” As much as she loved to hoverboard, they were one-person conveyances, so legally women couldn’t fly them. Since she couldn’t afford any more brushes with the law, when James and V went off on their hoverboards, she stayed behind.

Well, most of the time.

“Is James a suitor I need to rough up?” a very different, but still familiar, voice joked.

Noli hopped to the ground and turned just as her brother’s hoverboard touched down on the grass next to her tree. He pulled off his brass goggles, which were in need of a shine.

“Jeff!” Noli dropped the basket onto the grass and wrapped her arms around him.

A couple of years ago her older brother, Jeffery, had left Los Angeles to seek his fortune as an aeronaut, flying cargo vessels. Although he never came to visit, he always wrote her letters and sent money home. Despite the fact they could barely pay the bills, her mother wouldn’t touch the funds. It made no sense. Finally, V had told her the truth. Jeff wasn’t an aeronaut, but an air pirate, which was why her mother refused to use the money.

If there were such things as good air pirates, she’d like to think he was one of them.

“James isn’t my suitor.” She grinned. Jeff seemed in good health and clean.

“Look at you, all grownup.” Goggles still dangled from his fingers. His tan trousers held all sorts of loops and pockets as did his leather vest. “Why does that dress look familiar?”

“Mama remade one of her old walking dresses. She’s been trying out ideas on me.” She smoothed the blue fabric of the bustled skirt; her mother loved bustles. Noli liked bustles well enough, but didn’t love the color. She preferred the greens and browns V liked, but her mother often dressed her in blue because she said it brought out Noli’s steel-colored eyes.

Jeff looked around the yard, concern etched on his face. “Is she here?”

“No, she’s at the shop.” Noli picked up her basket. “Would you like to come inside? I’ll make some tea. I’m so excited to see you. What brings you back?”

He tugged on her chestnut braid. “You, actually,” he gave her a boyish grin that reminded her of their father. “I also have some business here.”

Translation: He was stealing or buying stolen goods. It was probably best to not ask.

A frown tugged at the corners of his lips as he glanced back at the house. “As much as I miss our mother, I doubt she’ll want to see me. I have some time, may I take you someplace? Will someone miss you?”

She shook her head. “I should be fixing the sewing machine but that can wait.”

“What’s wrong with the sewing machine? I could take a look.” Jeff rubbed his strong chin, which needed a shave.

“I built Mama a steam-powered sewing machine and she says it doesn’t sew quite right. What’s really wrong is that she doesn’t like it nearly as much as her treadle one.” Noli grinned, swinging her basket back and forth. “She’s hopelessly stuck in the last century.”

Jeff tilted his head back and laughed. “She always has looked backwards instead of forward.” He looked up at the tree house and grinned. “You still use that? I should think a grownup girl like you has better things to do.”

“It reminds me of Father.” It was also a good place for talking with V where her mother couldn’t overhear—and kissing. Kissing V, and other such things, was definitely frowned upon in polite society. Even the idea of her and V alone in the tree house could cause a scandal.

She might not care what society thought, but her mother did.

“Let me retrieve my hat and leave her a note.” Noli entered the house and ran up the back stairs to her room. She set the basket on the dresser, next to the magazine which contained the pattern for the watch chain.

Noli frowned at the looking glass above her dresser as she caught sight of her ears and their slight point—another side effect of becoming a sprite. Carefully, she fixed her chestnut waves to hide them. Part of her missed her curls, but waves were much less unwieldy. As long as they hid her ears. She tried to keep them hidden, especially after Missy Sassafras had taken her aside at a tea and offered to give her the name of a doctor in Europe who could “fix that” for her.

Fix that indeed.

Hmm. Would this dress be suitable for walking out? She turned from side to side and smoothed the blue fabric.

Wear something else, something pretty, the sprite urged.

I don’t want Jeff to wait. Besides, even Mama would agree this is a perfectly acceptable afternoon dress. Noli took a dark blue bonnet and matching cape out of her wardrobe, the nice wool one with bows and ruffles, and put them on. Out came a pair of kidskin gloves from her dresser. As an afterthought she grabbed her old lace parasol.

She penned a note and galloped down the back stairs, leaving the note on the kitchen table. Now that it was only the two of them, without even the lowliest servant, the kitchen had become the hub of the house.

“Noli, you have no food.” Jeff stood in the kitchen, opening and closing the worn wooden cupboards, frowning deeply. His hoverboard stood propped against the kitchen door. “Were’s Mrs. Diller? The house is a mess.”

“She dismissed Mrs. Diller about a year after you left and I can only do so much,” Noli huffed. “Mama still makes me go to school, and I can’t clean up or fix things when she’s around. And we do so have food.” It just wasn’t fancy, interesting, or tasty.

He looked around the kitchen, at the breakfast dishes in the sink, clean laundry piled on one of the chairs, candle wax marring the surface of the table, and his forehead creased. “Why don’t you have a staff? I send you money from every single job.”

Noli sighed. “Mama won’t use it. She hides it—well. Believe me, I’ve looked everywhere. She says it’s for my dowry. Between you and me, I think she’s dipped into it to buy me things as she attempts to force me upon society. Apparently, since I’m nearly seventeen, I’m old enough to stop this hoyden nonsense and get married.” She grimaced, not ready for marriage or giving up her dream of going to the university. “Mama’s been talking about a trip to Boston to see everyone, which we can’t afford unless she uses that money or asks Grandfather.”

Jeff opened the empty breadbox and rubbed his chin. “What does he think?”

“He has no idea. You know how stubborn she is,” Noli shrugged. “She tells him you support us. She’s afraid if he knew he’d bring us back to Boston—if he does that, we won’t be here when father returns.” Grandfather Montgomery, their mother’s father, lived in Boston. He was a very influential man, and as stubborn as their mother.

“Father’s never … ” He shook his head and forced a smile. “Where would you like to go?”

Noli thought for a moment. “Could we go to the pier? Please? Like Father used to take us? I haven’t been there in ages.”

Who knew if she would ever get the chance again? Eventually her life would take her from Los Angeles. If she stayed with V, which she fully intended … well, he held fast to his dream of eventually taking back his family’s kingdom in the Otherworld.

“The pier? Don’t you think that’s a little far?” Jeff’s eyebrows rose. He had dark brown hair like their father. Actually, he looked a great deal like their father, right down to the cleft in his chin. But he had their mother’s startling blue eyes.

Noli raised her chin. “Not for a hoverboard.”

Jeff laughed. “Hoverboards are one person conveyances.” His look grew sly. “Unless you happen to have one.”

Her mouth spread into a smile. Of course she did— in the shed in the backyard. It was actually Jeff’s old hoverboard which she’d fixed up. Flying it could land her in trouble. However, she had a more legal solution.

“I know how to balance properly to ride tandem. I ride with V on his, sometimes.”

Although that had been an afternoon of laughing, bruises, and torn stockings.

“Is that even possible? Or legal?” Jeff asked.

“Of course it is, as long as a male is at the helm.” But no one ever thought to do so because of their small size— and the balance factor.

Jeff shook his head. “Flying tandem on a hoverboard? Only you … ”

“Is that a dare?” she laughed. That would make it all the better.

“Yes, if you can fly tandem on my hoverboard all the way to the pier, then I’ll buy you a sundae at the ice cream parlor.” His eyes danced with delight. That look had gotten them into heaps of trouble as children.

She held out her gloved hand. “It’s a deal.”

They shook. He cocked his head, a partially amused smile on his lips. “Since when do you wear gloves willingly?”

“It’s proper to wear gloves.” Her cheeks burned both at the words that tumbled out of her mouth and the fact she’d unconsciously grabbed them. This wasn’t the first time. The sprite liked frippery and finery. Most of Noli’s newfound ladylike behavior, behavior her mother praised, was the sprite, not Noli.

Noli hated herself for it, because she didn’t want to be a proper lady. She wanted to be a botanist, she wanted to fix things, she wanted to save her family through hard work and a university education—not marriage to a boring society lump.

Fighting her mother, society, and the sprite in order to hold on to herself and her beliefs tired her even more than homework and housework. The sprite liked the idea of marriage, as long as it included parties and fancy gowns— precisely the type of marriage her mother sought for her.

“Noli?” Jeff touched her arm, bringing her out of her thoughts, eyes brimming with concern. “Are you feeling well?”

She shook it off. “I’m fine, let’s go before it gets too late.”

The vast, unyielding blue-grey of the Pacific Ocean came into view as Noli and Jeff approached the pleasure pier on his hoverboard, the colorful cars of the Ferris wheel on the horizon. They touched down on the sand.

Jeff picked up his board and walked over to the wooden hoverboard rack alongside the pier. “I can’t believe you actually stayed balanced the entire time.”

She grinned as he put away the hoverboard. “You owe me a sundae.”