Page 155 of The Witch Queen

My breath catches. I never expected her to bringthatup again. And I’m dying to ask her why she didn’t stay. To go over every wound and finally stitch them closed. But I don’t. Because if we talk about our past,we might wind up going down that road again. And we can’t.Ican’t. I know where it leads.

“It doesn’t matter now,” I say, as much to myself as to Jacquetta. “We have to focus on what’s ahead.”

Jacquetta stiffens slightly, something that might be hurt passing over her expression. But she quicky recovers. And I ignore the ache in my own heart.

“Is there anything ahead?” she asks with a hollow laugh. “The covens can’t help us and that creature is still loose. From what we saw today, she’s only getting stronger.”

“This is just the beginning,” I say darkly. “Now that she has the Bloodstones, it will be even worse. She’ll use them to take the last of the witches’ power—if she doesn’t kill them outright. Once she succeeds in that…”

Outside the window, the countryside is barely visible through the sluicing rain. The shadows take on strange shapes and the wind moans, its low howl enough like the sound of the enchanted trees that I shudder.

“Do you really think that’s why she took the crown?” Jacquetta asks, thoughtful. “To steal our power?”

“Why else?”

The creature’s bloodlust is certainly why Shade swore himself to her service.

“I don’t know,” Jacquetta replies, frowning. “But there seems to be something missing in all this. The creature showed up at the ball bent on killing the princess, or so it seemed. But if she wanted Blodwyn, why not take her at the hunt? Or any other time, for that matter? Why even followushere? Her movements don’t make sense.”

Now that I consider it, Jacquetta has a point. If the creature was capable of tearing open the floor of the Great Hall, why not just snatch Blodwyn out of her bed? The crown, too. And why did she bother waiting until our meeting to attack? She could have ambushed the witches herself on their way to the Sanctum. Us as well. It’s almost as if…

She’s been acting on orders.

Another roll of thunder rattles the carriage windows.

“Maybe they do make sense,” I say to Jacquetta. “Just not to us. Because someone else is telling her what to do. The creature didn’t return simply because the Veil fell. Someonesummonedher here.”

“Summoned her?” Jacquetta repeats. “Who? Not the witches.”

“No,” I agree.

Even if they possessed the ability, the timing is suspect. If Selene could raise the dead, she wouldn’t have bothered with such paltry measures as blowing up the Mines.

“Based on when we saw the creature, it would have to be someone who knew the details of the trials,” I reason. “Not to mention this meeting.”

My mind races, considering the possible culprits. I’d like to believe that I wasn’t blind enough to miss a secret witch living under my nose. Besides, Shade or Callen would have rooted them out, wouldn’t they? Unless…they wereverygood at hiding.

The answer lands in my mind with the next clap of thunder.

“Margaret.”

Jacquetta gapes at me. “Theduchess? But she’s not…”

“A witch?” I ask. “Do we actually know that? Or anything else about her? Think about it—the attacks beganafterMargaret’s return. She’s the one who called the trials. She’s been privy to every council meeting. Knows the inner workings of court better than anyone.”

And, most of all, she knows I wouldn’t have suspected her for an instant. But perhaps someone else did.

“This was the scandal we were investigating,” I say, certainty ringing in my mind. “If Margaret was caught dabbling in witchcraft, the royal family would have done anything to cover it up. They must have sent her away as soon as they caught her.”

And this probably explains why Callen wasn’t aware of the incident. He wouldn’t have waited a second to send Margaret to the pyre, sister or not.

“I still don’t understand,” Jacquetta continues. “Why would Margaret come back here and put Blodwyn forth for the trials if she planned to summon an undead creature and murder everyone?”

It might be a valid question—if we weren’t discussing Margaret. Pieces fly together in my mind. The duchess’s eagerness to visit. The way she’d inserted herself back into court, instantly becoming its center. She acted as though the White Palace already belonged to her because, in her eyes, it did. All she needed to do was wait for her creature to get rid of me. That’s probably why she agreed to Jacquetta’s plan with the covens in the first place. It gave her the perfect opportunity.

“To avoid suspicion,” I say simply. “Margaret summoned the creature so that she could banish it herself—after it eliminated everything else that stood in her way.”

Another flash of lightning illuminates the carriage. With it, a darker thought looms: I’m not the only one Margaret would need to remove to claim the throne.