Page 55 of Of Magic and Murder

Okay. I know when I’m beat. I’ve obviously pushed enough.

For now.

Once he realizes that I’m stepping away from the discussion, we start walking again, following one of Garnet’s map deeper into the woods.

For the next hour, we discuss certain landmarks, check out a suspicious-looking stump, and conveniently don’t mention the conversation we just had. I’m still rerunning it through my head, obsessing as usual, but when I need some of my attention on picking up rocks and seeing if they’re secretly hoarding a treasure trove of magic, I force myself to focus on that.

Riordan seems calmer once I drop the subject, and happier that we’re back to discussing the lodestone. And maybe he’s also obsessing about the artifact and what it could mean when we find it because, out of nowhere, he says, “Do you think, if you find the lodestone, you’ll have a target on your back the same way as you do because of the compact?”

I’m crouching in the dirt, running my fingers over the grass, searching for some hint of magic. When I hear his question, I look up at him.

“I don’t think that the compact is an issue anymore⁠—”

“Olivia faked her own death and tried to pin her murder on you because of the compact,” Riordan points out, cutting me off.

“That was before she was actually murdered.”

“Exactly. Now she’s dead, which means whatever brought her back to Moonburrow could have something to do with it.” That’s something we discussed once, then set aside when, on one of Olivia’s early appearances, she scoffed and said she gave up on Morrigaine’s mirror. “Or maybe one of the other witches is just biding their time, waiting until there’s not a wolf targeting witches before they come after you for the compact.”

I really hope not.

Scooping my hair up, settling it over my shoulder, I meet the suddenly worried look on Riordan’s face. “I told Delilah that I sent the compact off to Salem. If they want it, they’ll have to ask Serena for it.”

He frowns. “But that’s a lie. I can scent deception… you lied to them?”

I shrug. “Yeah. I don’t make a habit of it, but after getting arrested…” My voice trails off, and I’m quick to move on. “Anyway, I didn’t want anyone else trying to take it so I told a tiny fib. Like I said, I don’t think the compact is an issue right now.”

At least, it shouldn’t be.

And then Riordan asks, “Where is it?”

Goddess damn it. I just told Riordan that I don’t make a habit of lying if I can help it, so if I lie now… “To be honest, I… I’m not sure.”

“What?”

“I put it somewhere safe,” I tell him, trying not to sound too defensive and failing miserably.

“And where’s that?”

“If I knew that, it wouldn’t be lost.”

“So you lost it.”

“Misplaced.”

“Pen.”

“What? It’s a charmed mirror! It has a tendency to disappear! And if I don’t know where it is, odds are no other witch in Moonburrow will try to look for it, either.”

At least, that’s the logic I tell myself when I get annoyed that I did, well, lose it.

When Roxy first handed it to me, I instantly knew what it was. Morrigaine’s mirror, the enchanted artifact that holds enormous power and vanishes if you’re not careful. The last I heard of it, a witch had possession of it when I was nineteen, maybe twenty. A decade later, Roxy found it at the bottom of the dumpster in a town that was built upon the most famous witch settlement in the United States…

I always wanted it. Legend says that just peering into the glass gives a witch immeasurable power. It’s supposed to amplify a witch’s abilities, and any witch casting through it should always have her spells work perfectly.

“I can sense it somewhere nearby,” I tell him. “At least, I think I can. But for all I know, it isn’t even a compact anymore.”

“It changes shape?”