Page 127 of The Witch Queen

Still…the memory of Gavin’s nearness lingers. His words:

I never thought there was anything wrong with you.

Everyone else in this court is ready to hand me over to the lostprincess. But Gavin saved my life—twice now. Does that mean I can trust him? Or will he only let me down?

“What am I going to do?” I whisper.

Barnabas just chuffs and blinks, as though even he can see what a fool I am.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Ayleth

A forest scene fills my mirror’s glass. The trees are barren, their bark blackened and slick. Red rivulets run down the trunks and drip from the tips of the knife-sharp branches, pooling in gruesome puddles near the roots.

And there is more,Shade tells me.

The image in the mirror shifts, displaying a lake that appears filled with blood. A mountain that looks as if it’s slashed to pieces, tracks of crimson oozing down its sides.

“It’s spreading,” I murmur. “And you’re certain it’s her?”

Yes, my queen,my Huntsman rasps.

Dread coils tight in my belly. The creature isn’t wasting any time making good on her promise. It’s been a week since the attack. How much longer until she returns to the palace?

“How is she doing this?” I demand, though I’m far more frustrated at myself than at Shade. “And why can’t you find her?”

I do not know,he replies.She is beyond my reach.

Which shouldn’t be possible. Then again,noneof the creature’s abilities should be possible. And I’m no closer to uncovering answers than I was when all this started. We’ve returned to Ignatius’s lair every nightsince our first meeting, but Sybil’s journal, with its cryptic message, is our best lead. And evenityields more questions than answers.

I turn away from the mirror and start pacing in front of the fire, my mind sifting back through my memories of the night Queen Sybil died. She’d been almost manic, muttering about ravens and blood and snow. Could she have been referencing the lost princess? Could she have somehow set all of this into motion? Callen, predictably, is incredibly unhelpful, merely complaining about the fact that he’d unwittingly married two witches. Sybil wasn’t a witch, though. Of that much, I’m certain. But she knew something. I would give anything to be able to summonherfrom the grave and discover what it is.

But perhaps there is something we can do to stop the creature,Shade says, bringing me out of my mired thoughts.

“What?” I ask. “We can’t banish her. Not if she’s using hearts to anchor herself. And we’re not strong enough to fight her.”

At this point, even Margaret’s army might not be sufficient.

Wecouldbe strong enough,Shade replies.

I pause. “What do you mean?”

The fire crackles, shadows dancing in the corners of the room. One of them slithers over to the slender box near Callen’s mirror and winds around the Bloodstone crown.

Finish what we started,my Hunstman presses.Destroy the rest of the witches’ power. Make thisourrealm. Then nothing can stand against us.

Malum expands in my chest, as though reaching for the idea.

“To destroy their magic, we have to find them,” I point out. “And the Heirs are in Rycinthia. We cannot touch them there.”

There is a witch here.

A log collapses in the fire.

“Jacquetta,” I say. He nods, his shadows curling around him. That feckless part of my heart twinges. “She’s only one. Taking her power won’t make a difference.”

That’s why I’m hesitating, I tell myself. Not because I care.