“Sorcha told me they were erased,” I say without thinking. Don’t concede information easily. Let her tell you everything.
The Morrigan’s eyes burn bright with anger. “Yes, that fool girl erased what she could. All I had left were fragments. Just her thoughts. Enough to discern that she tried to use my Book, failed, and then lost it. I punished her at first, but in the end, I was forced to let her fly away. I never got over losing my little bird. She was my favorite.”
Little bird. Mutilated wings. Haunting song. Broken girl.
Stop it. Focus. My mind is a cacophony of questions, but I can only ask one. “Why not find the Book yourself and use it?”
“Even if I found it, I don’t have a body,” she says shortly. “And possessing someone else’s doesn’t work. Another precaution to stop me using it.” Her expression turns bitter. “I still need the blood of my little bird’s lineage to open the Book, and I still need someone who can actually use it. You.”
“You could have asked Kiaran and Aithinne.” When her gaze narrows, I understand why. “Ah, I see. You’re afraid if one of them gets their hands on it, they’ll become more powerful than you.”
“You’re human.” The Morrigan sounds impatient. “You have my sister’s power, and you’re dying. You’re the obvious choice.”
“So I’m the person who has the most reason to help you.” She doesn’t answer that; she doesn’t need to. “What are you offering me in exchange?” I ask, thinking of Lonnrach’s deal.
The Morrigan smiles. “My, my. You’ve learned quite a lot from my kind, haven’t you? Very well. What would you like?”
Something inside me feels raw, like I’m coming apart at the edges. What do I want? Kiaran.
Don’t tell her that. “My world,” I blurt, grasping on to the first fleeting thought in my mind. “Intact.”
The Morrigan stares at me, as if amused. “The human heart isn’t big enough to fit the space of the whole world. Whatever means the most to you is something small. Something worth dying for.”
I set my jaw. “How do you know that?”
“We’re all selfish creatures, little girl. Even humans.” She leans in. “Here’s the truth: You want the cursed king. And if you find the Book, he’s bound to my little bird for eternity.”
I say nothing. I look away, at the other couples dancing around us. They are like living puppets. The same faces, the same clothes, the same dresses in different colors. Just a setting for this meeting to show me that if the Morrigan wants, she can take things from my mind and use them against me.
The Morrigan grasps me by the jaw. “Pay attention.” Her long claws scrape down my cheek, not deep enough to draw blood, but deep enough to hurt. “I can make him yours. I can lift his vow if you help me. I’ll take away his curse.”
“I’m not na?ve,” I say flatly. “You want something else. What do you want me to use the Book for?”
Her lips curve into a smile. “I can see why he loves you.” She leans in. “Use the Book to resurrect my body. Do this, and I’ll give you everything you desire. His curse removed. His vow to my little bird gone.” Her eyes are sharp, searching. Assessing my weaknesses. “Immortality. Wouldn’t you like that? To be with him forever?” A human death would be far more kind, Kiaran had said.
A kindness for me, but not for him. I have the chance to change that, regardless of what he wants for me. Sorcha’s words echo across my mind. You’re just as ruthless as the rest of us.
I am ruthless. War has made me crooked and sometimes cruel and not wholly human. Because I almost say yes. The word is on my tongue, on my lips, in my mind, and I open my mouth to whisper my fate in a single breath. Yes. Yes, yes, yes.
Until I remember Sorcha’s mark on Kiaran’s body. A sign of possession. You’re mine.
We’re passing him around like an object. Like he doesn’t have feelings. Like he’s a damn piece of property, a possession, a prize. I may be ruthless and I may be cruel, but I won’t treat him like that; I’m not so much like Sorcha that I’d deprive him of a choice. I don’t want him to be mine so badly that I’d give the Morrigan the power she once had. She can’t be allowed to rise again. I won’t be responsible for that.
When I speak, my voice is hard, decisive. “No.”
The Morrigan’s gaze is as sharp as a knife-edge. “Think very carefully before you tell me no.”
“I did. Still no.”
The Morrigan acts fast. She seizes my arm, throws her weight against my body, and dislocates my shoulder in a swift jerk. Agonizing pain explodes down my arm. A garbled scream erupts from my throat, and she slaps a palm across my mouth.
“Shh,” she croons, pulling me tight against her. “I didn’t say you could scream.” Her lips are at my ear. “Give me my yes, and I’ll heal this. I’ll take away your pain.”
When her hand moves from my mouth, I snarl, “No.”
My fingers fiddle with the blades at the wrist of my good arm. Quickly.
Her claws dig into my shoulder, sending another jolt of pain through me. “I’ll destroy everything you love,” she hisses. “I’ll make you hate him. I’ll break you in the end, just like my little bird. I’ll make you say yes.”
I coax the blade into my palm. “I’ll find your Book,” I tell the Morrigan. “And I’ll use it to kill you.” I ram the blade between her ribs.
The Morrigan in the gentleman’s body crumples to the ground.
Run! I make a break for it, but the Morrigan is already in another body blocking my way. “You’re going to help me,” she insists, her eyes darkening.
I slash my blade across her throat and shove hard. In a running leap, I make my way toward the double doors, one arm hanging uselessly at my side.
Ignore the pain. Keep moving.
Another man pulls me into a waltz, his grip hard on my injured shoulder. The music swells with screeching violins that pierce my ears. I can hear nothing else, not my breathing, not my heart, not my thoughts. The Morrigan grasps my waist, her fingernails clawing to keep me in place.
She passes me off to another gentleman. Another. Another. All under her control, just puppets she’s using to her advantage. Every time I twist away, I end up in another dancer’s arms. I fight my way out and they catch me again. I’m trapped in a cage of human bodies. I’m spinning, my vision blurring. I’m too hot. I can’t get air. I have to go, have to escape, but everywhere I turn there’s another and another. Their laughter is the same as the Morrigan’s. It’s the sound of a blade scraping down metal. It’s sharp and rough and inhumanly melodic.
“I’ll leave you to think about it,” the Morrigan says from another body. Then she grabs my arm and forces it back into its socket. Heals the injury with a quick pulse of magic. “Enjoy the dance. I’ll break you again later.”
I’m swept away in another turn. Firm hands prevent my escape. My breath comes quicker, panicked now.
Get out. Get to the exit.
Desperately, I look over the shoulder of the gentleman holding me, toward the door, and—
There’s a girl standing right there.
CHAPTER 36