Page 102 of A Lady’s Guide to Fae Kings

They took her past tomes the size of a carriage and tiny volumes smaller than her palm. There were books on Fae magic, topography, the history of mushrooms. Encyclopedias of moss, types of boggarts, and how to bake bread. One of the scrolls sang a song in a language that sounded like bees buzzing. The moths pulled Pippa and Lachlan deeper into the shining library.

They stopped in a hidden alcove. It was not demonstrably different in any way: same white wood, silver accents, blue ceiling.

But it felt different.

The moths faded away. Her witch knot flared, as cold as if she had held it too long inside a frozen river. Her fire ignited, prowling to the surface. She used the pain in her palm to guide her. Not that shelf, nor that one. Not that niche in the corner.

But there, right there, between two bookcases.

At her feet was a stone with a slightly chipped corner.

She held her witch knot above it and it flared again.

She locked gazes with Lachlan.

It took a moment to pry up the stone enough to reach into the hole dug underneath and the box kept there.

Inside: a secret edition of the Red Grimoire.

“Pippa, you brilliant, brilliant woman.”

She carefully turned the pages, which were brittle and yellow with age. Spells were written in elaborate handwriting, the red ink faded but legible. And there, tucked in the middle, between a spell on how to make oneself invisible and a spell on how to send one’s shadow on errands: the spell to steal a wish.

“Hallow had an abridged copy,” she said. “With a missing page. That was why it was allowed to remain in the collection.”

The requirements of the spell were quite simple: a few easily acquired ingredients brought to the center of the Labyrinth. An anchoring amulet made of Fae gold.

And the sacrifice of the winning Tithe.

“Let someone else win,” Lachlan demanded immediately. Ice bristled under his boots, shining through the clinging mists like knives.

“No.” Not that she had any particular confidence that she could beat the others. But she had to regardless. To save them.

To save Lachlan.

“You are not sacrificing yourself,” he said darkly, reading her too well. The mists swirled up toward his shoulders. His Fae glimmer was alarmingly dimmed. “I’m going to save you from this damned Tithe.”

She touched his cheek. “I’m going to save you right back.”

Only she was too late.

Pippa disappeared.