Page 176 of The Witch Queen

Margaret opens one eye, her mouth screwed into a pout. But then, “Find my niece, you filthy bird. Ugh. I can feel its wing air.”

She continues with her noises of discontent for a while longer. But then—

“Ah! I see her. She’s in a forest. There’s a cottage with a thatched roof,” she says. “Lots of moss on the walls. It’s quite hideous, really.”

“Whose cottage?” I press.

“Do you want me tosensethe deed as well?” she replies archly. “A peasant, I expect. Certainly not anyone with an ounce of taste.”

This is supremely unhelpful. Even Nettle trills, annoyed.

“Can you give meanythingmore specific?”

Margaret thinks for a few more moments. “It’s in the east. Perhaps a day or so from the palace. That’s all I can determine.”

“I suppose that’s better than nothing,” Jacquetta grumbles.

Margaret sniffs. “You’rewelcome.”

I ignore her. That sense of urgency thrums even harder. If Blodwyn is that far away, we need to get moving—now.

“Joan,” I say. “Can you get us to the stables?”

“Of course,” she says, already heading back the way we came.

“Wait!” Margaret calls after us. “You can’t just abandon me here!”

“Sorry,” I say, not meaning it in the least. “We’ll come back.”

But Jacquetta touches my arm. “Much as I hate to admit it, we might need her. She could help us find the cottage. And tell us what’s happening here.”

I inwardly groan. Because Jacquetta is right. Margaret could prove useful. Still, we can’t drag the mirror with us through miles of forest. How else could we…

Nettle meows and paws at something under the table. A piece of glass about the size of my palm. It’s probably leftover from one of themirrors that broke on the night I shattered the Veil. Roland must have missed it when he collected the rest. A thought lands in my mind. Callen was able to bend the rules of the mirror to appear to Parnell. Isthishow they’d done it?

“Margaret,” I say, picking up the jagged piece of glass, “try to appear in this.”

“How? I—”

“Justtry!” All three of us shout in unison. Even Nettle joins in with a yowl.

The duchess grumbles, but then squeezes her eyes shut. An instant later, she disappears from the larger mirror and emerges in the piece I’m holding.

“Ah!” she crows, triumphant. “I did it!”

Fury burns in my own veins. Because thismusthave been how Parnell managed to communicate with Callen. When did it start? That very night? A sour taste cuts between my teeth, hating myself for my own arrogance.

“Right,” I say, giving myself a shake. “Let’s get going. And, Margaret, if Callen tries to speak to you, don’t tell him anything. Don’t even let him see you if you can help it.”

“Yes, please keep wasting my time with obvious instructions,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Now, are you all going to just stand there, or shall we rescue my niece?”

I look to Jacquetta. “We’re going to regret this.”

She grunts her agreement. I pocket the mirror, careful of its sharp edges, and then we follow Joan up the stairs and back into the darkness of the tunnels.

Chapter Fifty-Three

Ayleth