Page 140 of The Witch Queen

I whirl around. Callen is waiting in the glass, his lips screwed into a sneer.

“By the Light, I cannot fathom why you keep her around. Absolutely no spine at all.”

Nettle bridles at the imprisoned king. And I wish now more than ever that I could smash this mirror into a thousand pieces.

“Well then, that’s something you have in common, isn’t it?”

“At least I had one to begin with,” he returns. “Love.Mark my words—once you start believing in that drivel, you’ll lose your throne faster than snuffing out a candle flame.”

He’s right,that voice agrees.

And in this moment, I’m not sure which of them I hate more.

“No need to worry about that,” I tell him. “I’m not going anywhere. In case you haven’t heard, the trials are suspended.”

“For now,” he drawls. “And my daughter doesn’t need a crown to call you what you are. She seemed upset with you earlier. How much longer do you think she’ll keep your secret?”

You will burn,Mother’s warning twines with the howl of the wind outside.

“Leave,” I bark at Callen.

“Very well,” he says, grinning. “But you’ll call me back. In fact, I suspect that you’ll wish you’d let me out of this prison when you had the chance. Your days are running thin,wife.”

This time, I do throw my glass. It shatters against the wall beside the mirror. Nettle yowls and leaps away. Callen merely laughs. His face vanishes into the darkness, but his words linger. Much as I am loath to admit it, he’s right. Even if I succeed in taking the Heirs’ power, Blodwyn still poses a problem. Whatever friendship that started to re-form between us has clearly ended. But how can I…

One of my shadows snakes over to a drawer.

I follow it, pulling the handle to discover a small box inside. I lift it out and open the lid, revealing the runed blade nestled within the black satin lining: the knife I’d used to carve out Callen’s heart. The jewels embedded in its hilt glimmer and wink in the firelight.

The shadow winds itself around the blade and then up my wrist, raising gooseflesh on my skin. I could use the knife again, I realize. Create another mirror. Another servant. If Blodwyn were behind glass, I wouldn’t need to worry about her at all. Still, taking Callen’s heart was one thing, but Blodwyn’s? She’s just a girl. Friendless and afraid. Just like I used to be.

But I’m not that witch anymore, I remind myself. I shed her skin to become thequeenI am today. The queen from the prophecy.

A beating heart must she drown.Those ancient words echo in my skull.

Maybe it’s right. If I’m going to keep my crown, my throne, I can never let that other witch, weak and wretched, rise from her grave. I trail my fingertips over the knife’s jeweled hilt, just able to glimpse my own reflection in the blade.

Fairest,the shadows whisper.Fairest of them all.

Chapter Forty-Two

Blodwyn

My arrow sails across the yard, sinking with a satisfyingthunkinto the target. A dozen or so other shots protrude from the straw-filled dummy, their red fletching making it appear as though the thing is riddled with gaping wounds.

I haven’t been able to think straight since I left Ayleth’s chambers last night. I was right about her. All she ever cared about was her own power. Every word she said to me was a lie. Perhaps I should feel vindicated at knowing that my instincts were correct. But instead, I feel…hollow. So impossiblysad.Because I thought I had a friend again. A sister, even. Now Ayleth has taken that from me, too.

I grit my teeth against the anger roiling in my veins and fire off another shot, picturing Ayleth’s face on the target.

“So…your mother wrote about the lost princess?” Verity asks, bringing me back into the practice yard. “How did she know about her?”

Seeing as my alliance with Ayleth has ended, I had to tell someone about what was happening. To my surprise, Verity absorbed the story in stride, hardly blinking when I shared that I thought an ancient princess had resurrected herself. That my own mother might have been involved.

I have paid the price of blood and snow.

“I wish I knew,” I say, fiddling with my bow. “Her other journals don’t even hint at what she was thinking. Which means I’m no closer to learning the truth than when that wretched creature dragged itself out of the void.”

Frustration rekindles inside me and I release another arrow. This time, though, I miss and nearly impale a passing servant on the other side of the practice yard.