Page 222 of The Witch Queen

Margaret just looks at me. The wheels behind her gray eyes working. “You know, it’s the oddest thing. I seem to have retained some of my abilities from the mirror. Nothing much, but I find it very easy to tell when someone is lying.”

Heat climbs up my neck. “I’m not—”

“I think you know exactly what you want,” Margaret says. “AndIthink you should go after it. Otherwise, what was all this for?”

She deals me a last knowing look and then someone calls her name and she drifts back into the crowd. But her words linger:

What was all this for?

Honestly, I’m not sure that I know. I’m happy to see Blodwyn thriving. But I assumed that restoring the balance of power would give me some sense of completion. That I would finally understand my path. Instead I feel as lost as ever—perhaps even more so.

The sound of music and laughter is suddenly overwhelming and I take myself out into the evening, letting the cool air bathe my flushed skin. From what I hear, Riven is reverting back to what it should be—at least near the palace. The surrounding forests have ceased leaking that strange, crimson substance. Even the stars are brighter, no longershrouded in shadow. My attention lands on one constellation in particular. The seven stars arranged in the Spirits’ Mirror.

I press my thumb into the place on my palm where Rhea’s mark rests. It’s not just her that might be looking down from those stars now, but Mother, too. What wouldtheythink of all this?

“Here you are.”

I startle at the voice, then turn to find Jacquetta standing a short distance away. My stupid heart beats harder, both relieved and elated to see her. But then my pride takes over. What is she doing here? And what does she want from me after so long a silence? I stand taller, not wanting her to see that I was anxious. That I wanted her here—especially if she doesn’t want me.

“I didn’t think you were coming.”

“I was just finishing up some research,” she explains.

“Research,” I echo with a tight nod. “Is that what you’ve been doing for the past few weeks?”

“Actually, yes,” she replies, matter-of-factly. “I’ve been digging into that theory I showed you. About the lines of magic. That, and the substance we found coming out of the trees.”

Sullen as I am, my curiosity wins out. “How could those be related?”

“I think the substance was latent magic,” she says, joining me. “That the imbalance of power was bringing it to the surface. Killing everything.”

My brow furrows. “You think latent magic was inside the trees?”

“Why not?” she asks, shrugging. “After all, as we learned through Cassandra, everyone carries a bit of magic. Why not trees or lakes? In fact, my guess is that the lines of power described in the book are a form of latent magic as well. With the Veil, it all got stoppered here. Which is why it never spread past Riven.”

That…actually makes a fair bit of sense. And not just about the trees and lakes. I think of the statues come to life at the Remembrance Ball—the faint pulse of magic I sensed in its core. Perhaps it was power after all.

“Will that change now that we’ve restored the balance?”

“Maybe,” Jacquetta replies. “Around here, anyway. But I think there’s more to be done. Especially in the places where the magic was most concentrated. The old Coven fires, specifically. I suspect they may have been drawing power and holding it there.”

A thought strikes. When Mathilde died, she forbade me to burn her on the coven fire, instead insisting that she be buried in the forest. Was that how it was before the Veil? Witches, and even mortals, returned to the earth—or the sea or sky—fueling the latent magic of the world? Spreading the power out instead of hoarding it? But I have a bigger question to worry about first.

“And I suppose you’ll want to investigate that theory?” I ask.

A crow calls in the distance.

“It’s the only way to test it,” Jacquetta reasons. “Sindony and the others have agreed to join me. We’ll split the Sanctums up between us. Repeat the ritual that we did here and see what comes of it.”

A plan that doesn’t sound like it includes me. I turn away, doing my best to hide the sting of her rejection. What else did I expect?

“When are you leaving?” I ask.

“That depends.” She pauses. “When can you join me?”

I freeze. “You want me to…”

Jacquetta moves even closer and I inhale the scent of juniper that clings to her skin. “Come with me, Ayleth. Let’s do this together—finally.”