Better a dog than that evil cat. I won’t share digs with a cat! Scrap insisted from his perch on the dashboard. He sneezed for emphasis, reminding me of his allergies.

Since I’d inherited his lactose intolerance, I too might become allergic to the white lump of fur Gollum held so dear to his heart.

I ignored Scrap’s complaints, just sitting and staring out the window at the house. Three stories and a basement, interesting windows, protrusions and nooks at every turn, gables, crosshatched brickwork, everything I wanted in a home.

And big. Six bedrooms, three baths, formal dining room and parlor, family room upstairs and in the finished basement. Plenty of room for three teens, a toddler, and however many children Gollum and I wanted to have together.

Phonetia followed her sister out of the car and headed right for the rose garden on the far side of the driveway. She started deadheading the soggy and spent blossoms, piling the debris neatly at the edge of the circular garden space. She swept the stone bench clear of leaf litter, then leaned over the edge of a small fountain, peering into the dirty water.

“At least we won’t have to hire a gardener to tame two point eight seven acres,” Gollum muttered.

Doug piled out next, but he took the time to release Sophia from her car seat and carry her along the brick pathway toward the front door. When she fussed to get down, he let her wrap her tiny fists around his fingers for support so she could “walk.”

Scrap hovered nearby, anxious that the toddler might fall and scrape her knees. Less likely in her pink corduroy rompers than the frilly dresses Lucia had insisted upon.

At moments like this, I thought Scrap loved the children as much as I did. But he hated Gollum’s cat.

“Have you noticed how much the kids enjoyed the music at the con?” Gollum asked.

“How could I avoid noticing? They sang Holly’s music all day yesterday, adding their own harmonies and bizarre rhythms,” I groaned.

“Maybe we should help them form a garage band. All five of them. It will give them focus, and a creative outlet for the anger and frustration they are bound to feel over and above normal teenage angst.”

“Good idea. Later. I’m too tired to deal with it today.”

“You have the keys?” Gollum asked. He didn’t seem in a hurry to leave the quiet car.

I held up the key ring shaped like a faery in flight with four shiny new keys. I knew they’d all fit into the pristine locks. A huge yawn escaped my mouth rather than words.

After twelve hours of sleep Saturday night, I’d shuffled through Sunday’s baptism ritual and the wind down of the con, barely aware of what I was doing. Another twelve hours of sleep last night and I thought I might begin functioning again.

I could use another thermos of coffee.

“We’ve only got an hour to explore before we leave to meet Steve and Allie at the title company. Their flight is on time,” Gollum said consulting his phone-that-did-everything.

“It’s just . . . just surreal, everything falling into place like it did.”

“I know. My divorce papers got filed this morning and my lawyer said that since there’s no contest, the house belongs to the college, we each have our own money, nothing to split, it should only take a couple of weeks to get an appointment with a judge. Then you and I can get married and live here with our children.”

“Valentine’s Day?” Three months away; plenty of time for inevitable legal delays. Hope brightened my mind and banished the last of the cobwebs. “April Fools Day might be more appropriate considering how we live our lives.”

“Whatever you want. Put together the wedding you’ve always dreamed of. Invite everyone you’ve ever met. I don’t care. I just want to be with you. Forever.” He kissed me long and lingering.

I didn’t want to let go of him long enough to breathe. Sophia’s squeals of delight dragged my attention away from how he nibbled my lower lip.

“Let’s go see what kind of kitchen I’m going to have. MoonFeather and Lilly are coming for Thanksgiving. I want to put on the biggest and best holiday feast for the whole west coast clan.”

Holding hands we ambled up the path toward the front door. Morning sunshine broke through the scattering clouds, turning the last of the raindrops trapped on the grass and in the cups of dying flowers to crystal prisms.

“Faery dust,” I gasped.

“Not quite,” a strangely accented male voice said from the region of my elbow.

I whirled, ready to fight. I hadn’t done much else for the last three months. “Mickey!” Tension and anxiety fell away as I threw my arms around the crown prince of Faery.

The silver circlet around his brow had turned into three gold strands twisted and knotted intricately.

“Mom, who’s he? I thought the con was over?” E.T. asked, returning to my side. No cat on her shoulder. A lump of long white hair on the flagstone porch must be the geriatric beast. “People aren’t supposed to wear costumes out in public.”

I’d drilled that one into the girls yesterday when they fell in love with space pirate uniforms.

“Costume?” Mickey’s eyes twinkled. He gazed in mock puzzlement at his gold tights and white on gold brocade tunic. Even his blue butterfly wings had shifted to gold with just a hint of blue and white sparkles on the edges. “This is no costume. This is what I wear to work,” he laughed.

“Huh?” Phonetia chimed in. She left her work with the roses to join us.

Doug returned from the covered porch with Sophia in his arms. “He wasn’t at the con. I’d remember those wings. They’re cool. How do they attach? And those ears. Those aren’t gelatin attachments.”

“No, they’re the real thing,” I told the children. “Prince Mikhail of Faery, meet the children.”

Mickey bowed formally. The kids mimicked him. Sort of.

Hey, Mickey, what’s with all the gold tarting up your outfit? Scrap flitted from the top of my head to Mickey’s shoulder and back again.

“I’m afraid I have been promoted to King of Faery,” Mickey sighed as if shouldering a great burden. “After rescuing the kidnapped dancers—with your help of course, Lady Tess and Professor Gollum—my people decided I was better suited for the job than my stepmother who allowed the kidnapping to take place.”

“I think your people chose wisely,” I said. “Thank you for telling us the news in person. But that is not why you came, I think.” I nodded my head in respect.

“May we have a moment of privacy? You and Professor Gollum, Lady Tess?” Mickey asked.

“Certainly. Phonetia, take the keys, you and the others can go choose your own bedrooms. But wipe your feet on the mat. There’s new carpet and tile so take your shoes off before you go beyond the entrance.”

“Shoes should always be left outside,” E.T. replied. She grabbed the keys out of my hand and ran to the door with them.

Doug and Sophia followed.

“I’d rather finish grooming the roses,” Phonetia said, looking back to her project.

“A fine idea, Miss Phonetia. I will walk with Lady Tess and the Professor to the gazebo in the back. This should not take long.” Mickey bowed again and gestured for Gollum and me to lead the way around the house on a different brick path.

“We have a gazebo?” Would wonders never cease? I’d always wanted a gazebo. With roses climbing the arched entrance.

What’s the latest gossip out of Faery? Scrap demanded to fill an awkward silence as we progressed past French doors and a wide side patio to a scraggly herb garden and then emerged into an expanse of overgrown lawn extending beyond another flagstone patio, complete with gas grill and sagging and saturated lawn furniture.

I could just see the roofline of the guest cottage beyond a blackberry thicket.

Gollum’s eyes lit with excitement as he tried to veer toward the grill.

But it was the gazebo that captured my attention. It sat off to the side next to a deep goldfish pond. White paint flaked from the slats, but it looked sound, cozy, and inviting.

“Faery heals,” Mickey said at last. He seemed weighed down with sadness. Worry added lines around his eyes and dimmed their sparkle. “Slowly. But we heal. The loss of energy from the previous crises caused much more damage than I thought possible.”

“I’m sorry. Is there anything we can do to help?” I touched his hand in sympathy.

“You have done more than could be expected of any human, Lady Tess.” He mounted the three steps to the gazebo and sank onto a bench to the left of the entrance. Two-person benches circled a gas fueled fire pit made of more flagstones. I fell in love with the place. Dreams of sitting out here with my laptop on hot summer afternoons, or sharing a glass of scotch with Gollum on brisk autumn evenings with the fire going, almost took me away from dowdy reality.

“How long will the healing take?” I knew we couldn’t replace the energy that had built a new dimension.

“Longer than I want to admit. I need to close Faery,” Mickey said.

“I’m sorry,” Gollum added. “Faery has always loaned brightness and joy to the other dimensions. Your loss is a huge loss to the Universe.”

“The Powers That Be have removed the three demon ghettos from my dimension and housed them elsewhere. I don’t know where. That has stopped a huge drain on our resources. They have healed the cracks in the imp diamond as well. But it isn’t enough.”

“What more can you do?” I asked. “I can give a few faeries space in my garden if they need it.”

“That is not the problem, Lady Tess,” Mickey flashed me a grin, reminding me of the lighthearted taxi driver who befriended me in Las Vegas. “I thank you for the offer but the solution is the opposite. We need to keep all of the faeries in Faery.”

“That might be hard, since they are used to popping in and out at will,” Gollum mused.

“Yes. And so I have closed the portals into and out of Faery. All except one.” He twisted a ring around his finger idly, as if a long habit.

Everything in me stilled. He didn’t twist the ring in agitation.

He can use the ring to open a portal! Scrap chortled. I knew I smelled imp. The black imp is still imprisoned in the diamond.

“An imp can go anywhere, anywhen,” I said.

“This ring is a great temptation to my people. And to me,” Mickey removed his fingers from the diamond that glittered more brightly than sunshine on raindrops. “I would enjoy visiting with you more often and longer, but I owe the entire realm of Faery my duty to remain there as long as it takes to heal the damage.”

“What do you have in mind, King Mikhail?” Gollum asked solemnly. “That ring is an artifact of power. It requires protection. It also needs to be kept secret from the Universe at large, or many who would not use it wisely will covet it.”

“I know. That is why I offer the ring to you, Lady Tess and Professor Gollum. I know of no one else who could protect it as it must be. You can hide it where no one will expect to find it.”

“And where would I hide this ring?” I asked almost fearfully. Power pulsed from the intricate gold work and large diamond like a huge magnetic field.

“In plain sight.”

“Huh? I was thinking along the lines of Scrap’s mum and the freeze-dried garbage dump of the Universe. The cold and the other powerful artifacts will mask it.”

Nope, nothing can mask that kind of power. And a black imp in Imp Haven is just asking for trouble. He’ll get more powerful in his home dimension. The ring needs subtle magic to make it look like it belongs where it is, Scrap lectured. He sounded like Gollum when he got wound up on a favorite topic.

“The most powerful of the subtle magics Scrap speaks of is love.” Mickey looked from Gollum to me, the twinkle back in his eyes. “I freely gift this ring to both of you as an engagement token. Anyone looking for the ring will sense the power and assume it is you, Lady Tess and the love you share with the professor, not an artifact.”

Before I could object he ripped the ring from his finger and placed it in Gollum’s hand, gently closing his fingers around it.

“Now if Scrap will return me to my home, we will give you two a moment alone.” Mickey rose to his majestic height.

Scrap landed on his shoulder. Much as I’d like to stick around and eavesdrop, I think Mickey has the right idea. You ready, Mr. King?

“Yes, Mr. Imp.”

They disappeared in a showy blanket of scintillating mist. I thought I caught a glimpse of Scrap’s face lingering in the swirling lights.

“Tess.” Gollum got down on one knee in front of me and took my left hand in both of his. “I promised to do this. The time seems most appropriate. Tess, beloved, will you marry me?”

I had to swallow twice to get rid of the lump in my throat. “Yes,” I whispered. “Yes!” I said louder. “Yes,” I shouted loudly enough to draw children’s faces to the windows above us and from around the corner to the rose garden.

“Yes!” I shouted with glee.

Then my Gollum gently slipped the ring on my finger. It snuggled behind the knuckle as if made for me.