Page 130 of The Witch Queen

She stands in a clearing of a forest, surrounded by bleeding trees. At her command, corpse-like minions rise from beneath the ground, flesh hanging off their bodies. Some of them I recognize as witches from Stonehaven—Isolde, one of the Elementals who taught me to hunt. Willa, who used to let me hide in the kitchen to avoid lessons. Even Eden, her lavender gaze, which was once brimming with mirth and laughter, now shining with hate. They stalk toward me, their bodies at wrong angles and their claw-like hands outstretched. Murders of crows descend from the sky, their talons ripping my flesh to ribbons as the world I built is swallowed by flame.

Pay the price,the creature’s unearthly voice resonates above the tumult.You must pay the price.

I wake with a start, bedclothes sticking to my skin. The remnants of the dream still clinging to me, scratching at me, as if the corpse-like creatures are reaching through my mind. I kick my way free of the coverlet and throw open a window. The storm that has been threatening all day has finally broken. Thunder shakes the palace as sheets of rain pour down outside. Lightning flashes over the grounds. For aninstant, I spot a shadowy figure in the distance. Just like what I thought I saw on the night before Margaret arrived.

Is ither? The lost princess? Has she been here the entire time?Hauntingme?

Acrashcarries through my chamber.

I nearly leap out of my skin and whirl around, but my room is empty. When I look back out the window, the shape is gone as well. I close the panes and tell myself it was nothing, but then the noise starts again. Light spills through the crack of my door, coming from the next chamber. I creep toward it, drawing my shadows around me. Malum pulses behind my sternum, ready to be used if it’s—

“Jacquetta!”

The other witch is standing at the map of Riven, surrounded by piles of books and papers. Fitz is with her, but is currently being chased around the room by Nettle, who no doubt caused the commotion I’d heard.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, my pulse finally slowing.

“Sorry,” Jacquetta says, motioning toward the two animals. “I tried to stop them, but…”

“It’s hopeless, I know,” I say, throwing a reproachful glance at Nettle.

She merely trills and continues swatting at Fitz, who growls at my cat from where she has him cornered.

“What’s all this?” I ask, gesturing at Jacquetta’s piles of papers. “I assumed you returned to the servants’ quarters.”

And that she’d had her fill of scouring endless pages of tiny scrawl. We already spent three hours in Ignatius’s lair earlier, not that we have anything to show for it.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Jacquetta replies. “I decided to go through some of these books from the other realms. And I might have found something.”

She indicates a text on the table beside her, open to a section with a map spread across both pages. It appears to be Carrick, the queendom to the west. It’s a strange rendering, though. The illustration is covered with dozens of intersecting lines.

“What are those?” I ask.

“It’s a theory about power,” Jacquetta explains.

“Power?” My brow furrows. “You mean like magic?”

“Something similar,” she agrees. “But it’s interesting. The author refers to the power like it’s a living force, one that carries memory and even emotion. According to this, there are thousands of such lines beneath the earth. Sort of like the lines of our palms.”

I frown at that, turning my own palm up and studying Rhea’s faded mark.

“What is it?” Jacquetta asks.

“Probably nothing,” I say. “But those lines. It reminded me of Rhea. The rune she drew.”

“That’s right,” Jacquetta says. “The triangle, wasn’t it?”

I’m surprised she remembers. A long-ago image resurfaces, the two of us lying together in bed. Jacquetta’s fingertips, featherlight, tracing that shape.

“Yes,” I agree, clearing my throat. “On the night he captured me, Ignatius said there was a connection between Rhea and me. One strong enough to cross the Veil. He thought the mark had something to do with it. That it held power.”

That place on my palm prickles.

Jacquetta considers this, thoughtful. “Do you think Rhea knew that?”

“I doubt it. Not the full extent, anyway.” I pause. “Could it be related to the theory?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” She gestures hopelessly to the map. “I’ve been trying to figure out if anything similar exists in Riven, but the only clear line I see is here.”