Page 23 of The Witch Queen

“Not even a hint of them?” I ask Shade on the evening before Margaret’s arrival.

Shade’s ember-like eyes glow in the dimness of my chamber. Nettle trills happily as she pounces among his shadows.

Nothing, my queen,he replies.Forgive me.

“It’s not your fault,” I say.

It’s mine.

Frustrated, I go to the map on the other side of the room. The sites of the Mine explosions still smolder, black smoke drifting up from the craterlike holes.

Beneath the whine of the wind outside, I imagine that I hear the horrible groan as the mountain began to cave in on itself. The crunch of wood and shatter of glass as the village was crushed beneath the rock. The echo of the Dwarves’ screams, so like that awful night at Stonehaven. I’m not surprised that the coven witches, the Heirs especially, were part of such a brutal attack on the Dwarves. But Jacquetta? She understands what it means to lose her home. Knows what Roland and the rest of the Guilds suffered under the White Kings. How could she have participated in this? Then again, I suppose the past never mattered much to her. Certainly not when it came to us.

“I’ve been such a fool,” I mutter.

You are no fool,Shade rasps.

His shadows brush against me in reassurance, my skin tingling at their touch.

I grant him a weak smile. “Recent evidence suggests otherwise.”

We will find them,he vows.

Maybe. But when? My attention lingers on the mountain borderbetween Riven and Rycinthia. Again, my mind conjures images of Mother and the coven witches plotting their next move. It would be so mucheasierif I could just go there and drag them out. End this madness.

“Are you certain there’s no way for you to cross the border?” I ask Shade.

Yes, my queen,he replies.I have tried. It is impossible.

“Was it always this way?” I ask, curious. “Even before the Veil?”

Perhaps.He hesitates.Though much of that time is…lost to me.

A deep sadness emanates from his form. Nettle meows, as though she senses it, too.

At Stonehaven, I was taught that the Veil was a barrier forged by the Ancients, one that prevented Malum from wreaking havoc on our world. Through Shade, I’ve learned a very different version of events. The Veil was a hungry, destructive force, feeding off the creatures trapped behind it. Whittling them down until there was nothing left. It robbed them of their memories. Their names. All because they were different. Unwanted. Just like me.

“Have any more of your memories returned?” I ask gently. “About your life before?”

I hoped that might be the case as Malum strengthened. Shade pauses, his shadows pulsing in a pensive tempo.

Not many,he admits.But enough that I know there were others…likeme.

“Others? Do you mean a family?”

He nods.

I imagine shadow creatures like Shade roaming Riven together. Building their own communities. Once such an idea might have terrified me, but now all I feel is anger. What right did the witches have to destroy Shade’s life? Deprive him of a home?

“Do you think you’ll find one another again?” I ask. “When we’re finished?”

After we’ve drained the last drop of coven magic from this realm.

I cannot say,he replies.But…perhaps.

Hope hums beneath his words. It tugs at my own heart—the fact that he cannot even bear to utter such a wish aloud.

“If there’s anything I can do to help you in that effort, please tell me,” I say. “Until then…we have each other.”