Lynet nodded, staring straight ahead. “I’ll stay near the edge here, to the left, so it’ll be easy to find me.”
Nadia looked at her, and though she said nothing, her eyes spoke of fear, of remorse, of some forbidden hope. There was a question poised on her lips, but instead of asking it, she turned away, her hair hiding her face.
Lynet might have offered some reassurance that they would see each other again, that she understood why Nadia had acted as a spy, that she was finding it harder and harder to blame Nadia for what she had done. She might have reached out and brushed the snow out of Nadia’s hair. She might have asked her own question, one that had been swimming in her mind since she’d seen those two young women in the city square. But now, so close to Whitespring, Lynet was becoming more fully aware of the danger ahead—not just for herself, but for Nadia as well. And so she knew what she had to say instead.
“You can still turn back if you want,” Lynet said. “You don’t owe me anything.”
Nadia shook her head, facing Lynet again. “That’s not why I’m doing this. If you want to turn back now, I’ll go with you, but I’m not going alone.”
“Then promise me that you’ll leave Whitespring if Mina or Gregory poisons me.”
“Lynet—”
Lynet held up a hand to stop her. “Here,” she said. She pressed the full purse into Nadia’s hands. “If anything goes wrong after I wake, or if Gregory figures out that you switched the poisons, I … I don’t want anything to happen to you. Go south again if you wish, but promise me that you’ll leave Whitespring as soon as you can.”
Nadia didn’t answer at first. She studied the purse in her hands, silently deliberating. “Is that your first order as queen?” she said at last.
Lynet tried to smile. “Yes.”
“Then I promise.”
She didn’t say more, but Lynet saw the question forming on her lips again. And she knew, as strongly as she felt her connection to the snow, that if Nadia spoke now, this good-bye would become impossible. “You should go before it gets too dark,” Lynet said, the words falling heavily to the snow at her feet.
Nadia gave a short nod, eyes glistening. She turned and started down the path to Whitespring without another word.
Lynet watched her go until the wind sent the snow flurrying up along the road, forming a white veil that hid her from view.
29
MINA
The snow had fallen over the patch of earth where Sybil’s statue had once stood, as though nothing had ever been there at all. From her window, Mina frowned. The continuing presence of winter seemed to be mocking her, reminding her of her failure.
A series of quick raps on the door interrupted her thoughts. Mina knew it must be Felix. When she called him in, he fixed his eyes on a spot over her shoulder and said something about an urgent request to see her.
She kept looking at him, startled by the way his eyes were no longer blank and endless, but rich and full. He was an empty outline who had been filled in at last.
“Who is it?” she asked him. “Did you recognize the person?”
Felix nodded. “The surgeon you dismissed.”
Mina turned away, thinking of the vial of poison that still sat by her bed. “I’ll see her in the throne room,” she told Felix. “Bring her to me there.”
*
Two of her guards showed the surgeon in, with Felix behind them. Mina had gazed around in awe the first time she’d entered the throne room all those years ago, but the surgeon showed no reaction to the room’s grandeur, her eyes fixed straight ahead as she approached the throne with single-minded focus. Mina wondered if the girl had to convince herself to turn Lynet over, or if this betrayal came easily to her.
She dismissed them all, except for Felix, who stood off to the side of her throne as Mina gestured for the young woman to come closer. “I know why you’re here,” Mina said, voice laced with disdain, “but I want to hear you say it anyway.”
Nadia took a breath and then said clearly, “I’ve come here to give you Lynet.”
Mina rose from the throne and stepped down so that she was standing level with the young woman. “And why does Lynet think you’re here?”
Mina wanted to shame her, to make her cringe or look away, but Nadia did neither, never once breaking Mina’s gaze. Her eyes gleamed, not with the coldness of betrayal, but with the fierceness of conviction. Whatever Gregory had promised her must have been something important to her, something that eclipsed even the shame of betraying a friend.
“She thinks I’ve gone into North Peak for food,” she answered.
“And instead you’ve come here, to hand her over to me. What a wonderful friend you are to her.”
Nadia’s head lowered for a moment, a flash of guilt in her eyes, but she recovered quickly and met Mina’s gaze again. “Your father promised to make me his apprentice. Not even Lynet can offer me what he can.”
Mina wanted to have her killed on the spot. All she had to do was call for her guards, and they would do it, and nobody would even know that this young woman had ever existed. She thought of all the time this girl had spent with Lynet, all the trust Lynet had put in her, and it made her burn hot with rage. You don’t deserve her, she wanted to say. But instead, she only said, “Yes, I can see why you and my father get along.”
Nadia winced at that, which was one thing in her favor, at least—she recognized Mina’s words as an insult. “Shall I tell you where she is?” she said, her voice slightly tense. “I can draw you a map.”
Mina slowly circled her, not wanting the girl to notice her uncertainty over seeing Lynet again. But what Gregory had said was true—Mina didn’t stand a chance against Lynet. As soon as the people of Whitespring knew Lynet was alive, they would unite against Mina immediately. I have my powers, she thought for a moment. But Lynet had powers too, and there was more snow than glass in Whitespring.
She had to find Lynet first, before she came out of hiding—and then? And then I’m to poison her.
Again, the thought sent waves of nausea through her. Poison was her father’s plan, but that didn’t mean it had to be Mina’s plan. For now, all she needed to do was retrieve Lynet and contain her somewhere in the castle without anyone knowing. Gregory would be angry with her when he found out, but she’d faced her father’s anger before, and even that wasn’t as painful as the grief she had felt when she’d thought Lynet was dead.
“All right,” she said, her voice a dull croak as she came to stand in front of Nadia again. “Draw me your map.”
*