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So easy.
It would be so easy to give into it again.
“Why… why was Arthur taken?”
I fell to my knees, realizing what I had done. Wasting a question. But still, my ears strained to hear the answer to a question that no one else could give.
“To make way for you, Veyka.”
“No.” I shook my head, again and again, so hard I was going to careen sideways. I could feel the force of it, of my body’s inability to keep up with the motion. “No. That cannot be.”
A laugh so cruel, my bones turned to shards of ice. “Oh yes, Veyka. You and Arthur should never have been born. A duality in the world that was never meant to exist. You could not both be here on this plane of existence. It was only a matter of time.”
Her words pricked my ears. I felt the slight swivel of those delicate points. But I stayed on my knees, clutching my dagger. Tears streaming down my face. I let all that guilt and self-hate pour out of me for her to see.
“Arthur does not exist here, but he could exist elsewhere,” I said softly, hardly more than a whisper.
A sharp intake of breath. “Is that your next question?”
“This place… all places… they also exist in the human realm.”
“There is no witch atop their feeble human tower, waiting to answer your questions. My sisters are gone from this world, thanks to your Ancestors.”
“But not from all worlds.”
Another laugh, this one shrill, nearly hysterical. “Your kind have never possessed that sort of power.”
A spear of understanding, straight through my gut. “There are layers. I… I knew it.”
“You have wasted another question—”
“No.” I climbed to my feet steadily, spinning the knife once in my hand. “I asked no question. You gave the information willingly.”
Her thin, nearly non-existent lips curled into a grotesque smile of razor-sharp teeth. “There are many layers. But your brother exists beyond those of even your reach.” A taunt.
And a confirmation.
“Thank you,” I said softly, letting the corner of my mouth curve into a smirk.
“Ask your final question and leave me to another thousand years of solitude.”
She couldn’t see everything in my mind, I realized then.
“Who within the goldstone palace is truly disloyal?” I asked. My third and final question. Originally, we’d phrased it to ask about my royal council. But Gawayn’s betrayal had taught me I could not assume anyone’s allegiance. Not anymore.
She did not answer immediately—merely stared at me with that vacant expression. I thought the corner of her mouth twitched. As if she would enjoy giving me the answer. A chill snaked down my spine. But then, it could have been a trick of the light.
“Power comes to those who wait, or those who do not hesitate. Yourdonna, Esa, will not wait much longer.”
I swallowed. Esa was not the one to kill Arthur, but everything she’d implied in the meeting Arran and I had listened to was true.
But the witch was not done. “What once was free is now on the run. Oh, but how we witches and priestesses did have fun. Locked in this tower, I may be, but there is one clothed in red who remains free.”
The priestess. I’d written her off as power-hungry, self-important. But not dangerous. Another mark on the tally sheet of the many things I’d judged wrongly.
I drew my other dagger, easing closer. I had to strike quickly if I wanted to avoid those fangs.
“Igraine.” I froze at the strangled name that tore from her lips—as if she’d wanted to keep it from me, but some force compelled her. “Her loyalty shifts like the tides of the Split Sea. Trust her at your own peril.”
