Page 67 of The Witch Queen

Myplace.

Margaret extracts her arm from mine and glides back to the rest of the group. The other courtiers flock around her, fawning and doting on her. Leaving me outside of their circle. Again. I amsickof this woman poking her nose where it doesn’t belong. Wrecking everything I’ve worked years to build.

Malum pounds in my veins. This time, I do not contain it. My shadows dive toward the falcon. The bird shrieks, lifting straight up into the air with such fury that its jesses snap. Margaret screams as the falcon soars toward her. But she’s not quick enough to avoid it. The bird’s deadly talons score the duchess’s face, leaving three slashes across her cheek. Blood drips onto the dusting of snow, crimson against white.

“I’m fine,” she insists as the others rush to help her.

But then, as though she can feel my attention, Margaret looks in my direction.

“Well,” I say, “it appears that you were right. That bird hasexcellentinstincts.”

Chapter Nineteen

Ayleth

“I hate to sayI told you so,” Callen drawls. I’d summoned him as soon as I returned from the mews, my heart still racing after my encounter with Margaret. “Actually, I don’t. It gives me immense satisfaction to say that I did tell you about my sister. And that I was right.”

I hate the duchess only a little less than I do her brother. Shadows trail me, as agitated as I am. Nettle has made a game of pouncing on them, the tendrils of darkness disappearing under her paws. She misses, catching my skirt with her claws instead and I yank them out of her reach.

“Stop that,” I snap.

She trills at me, indignant, and slinks away to sulk beneath a chair. I toss out a piece of ham as an olive branch, but she stubbornly ignoresit.

“You should have alerted me that she was poking through the archives,” I say to Callen.

“I can’t be everywhere at once,” he replies, petulant. “And there aren’t anymirrorsin the archives.”

Because I didn’t think I needed them there when I was the only one who had access.

Another mistake,that voice hisses.

I drain my wineglass in one gulp.

“There has to be some way to outsmart her,” I insist. “Joan mentioned a scandal before Margaret’s marriage? What was that?”

Callen just sighs, bored. “I have no idea. That was twenty years ago and she’s my sister. Likely some tryst they wanted to cover up.”

Which is what Joan thought, too.

“Then why would Margaret have removed the records?”

“You’ll have to ask her.”

“Becausethatwould work,” I mutter.

And there’s no one else who might tell me, either. I’m too conspicuous. Even if I did manage to get someone at court or on staff to speak to me, Margaret would find out. In fact, the duchess is probably just waiting for me to stumble into such a trap. But there must be a way to evade her spies. If only I could…An idea begins to cobble itself together in my mind, one I instantly detest. But it might be the only way.

BecauseImay not be able to dig up more information about Margaret, but there is someone else in the palace who can. Someone no one would suspect, or even know about. Someone almost as conniving and duplicitous as Margaret herself:

Jacquetta.

—

I wait until the dead of night to return to the dungeons.

The whole way there, I tell myself to turn around. Jacquetta can’t be trusted. Shade is right—she wants to destroy me, which is precisely what happened the last time I let her into my life. But that was before I had my shadows, I reason. Army or not, I want to wipe the self-satisfied smirk off Margaret’s face. And I don’t care who I have to ally with to do it. Malum shivers behind my sternum, as if in agreement. I let it thread through my veins, reminding myself that I don’t need to be afraid of Jacquetta anymore. I don’t need to be afraid of anything.

Soft scraping sounds reach me as I approach Jacquetta’s cell. She’s crouched in the far corner, as far from the light as possible.