Page 104 of The Mirror of Beasts

If the Hag of the Mist had been able to manipulate the mist-shrouded magic barriers between Avalon and our world, the Bonecutter believed, there was no reason she couldn’t also open a path to Lyonesse.

And just then, I was willing to borrow someone else’s certainty, because it felt like I had very little of my own left. Including whether or not the Bonecutter would actually tend to Emrys.

My sigh streaked the air white as I gazed out over the desolate landscape.

Despite the lack of snow on the ground, I wasn’t sure I’d ever known a colder night. The fire barely thawed the air. It brought me back to that strange vault, years and years ago, where we’d found Arthur’s dagger. The walls of ice that displayed the mangled bodies of Hollowers like masterpieces.

The garlands of protective wards rattled as I tended to our small camp’s fire. The rocky outcropping we were sheltering behind did very little to protect us from the wind when it seemed to be blowing from every direction.

To pass the time, and perhaps even to distract her, Neve had asked a surprised Caitriona to teach her a few basics on correctly wielding a sword. Caitriona, of course, had accepted with all the gravity of a woman taking a soul-binding sacred oath—though I was beginning to realize that was true of all the girl’s promises.

Caitriona’s gravelly voice filled the quiet night once more. “No, no—here—”

I propped my chin on my hand, watching with raised brows as Caitriona came to stand behind the sorceress to adjust her stance. I didn’t miss the way Caitriona seemed to leave her hands wrapped around Neve’s a moment longer than necessary, or the way Neve leaned back against the taller girl’s chest.

“Like this?” Neve breathed out.

“Y-Yes.” Caitriona coughed, trying to hide her stutter. “And remember, extend your arms first, then lunge. You’ll work up to the movements being tied together.”

Caitriona finally forced herself to take a step back. She crossed her arms over her chest, as if to trap the last of Neve’s lingering warmth there.

“I mean, I get that the basic gist is just stab-stab-stab,” Neve said, practicing the lunge, “but is it really as simple as this?”

They were using her wand in place of a broadsword, and the sorceress couldn’t help but add a little flourish to the thrust, swirling the wand’s knife end through the air the way she might carve a looping sigil. Caitriona sighed every time she did it but knew better now than to attempt to stop it.

“It only looks simple,” Caitriona told her. “But good form will help you strike true by adding power to your thrust. It’ll allow you to pierce armor, or bone—”

Or a metal body, I thought, trying to breathe through the pain of what Cabell had done to Librarian. Every time Neve thrust forward, all I could see was that moment. The decision my brother had made. How easily the blade had sliced through Librarian’s chest plate.

“Yes, yes! Exactly!” Caitriona crowed as Neve executed the move correctly. “But don’t tense your arms until nearly the end of the movement.”

Neve clarified, “Just before I stab them?”

“You seem unusually eager to do that,” I noted.

Neve lowered her wand and looked at me. “Aren’t you?”

After what had happened at Avalon, and Rivenoak, and the library … yes. I was.

“All right, I think I’m done for the night,” Neve said.

Unzipping her neon fanny pack, which had been enchanted to store larger items with ease, Neve slid the wand inside.

“But we’ve only just begun,” Caitriona protested. “I haven’t even taught you a proper half step!”

“You have to save something for the next lesson,” I reasoned. Then added, with a meaningful look, “Don’t you want there to be another lesson?”

She chewed on her lower lip, and I watched in amusement as Caitriona finally relented. She moved to sit next to me, but I nodded toward the open space beside Neve, with yet another look.

She looked tormented by the mere prospect of giving in to what she clearly wanted to do. Eventually, after a moment more of hesitation, she made her way over and sat, leaving a respectful distance between her and the sorceresses.

I let out a soft sigh of my own. It was hard to believe I’d found someone more hopeless at this sort of thing than I was. It was like the baffled leading the bewildered.

Neve retrieved a blanket and wrapped one end of it around herself before tossing the other end over Caitriona’s shoulders. The fabric slid away as Caitriona startled at its touch.

“I’m fine,” she insisted. She shifted awkwardly, clearing her throat. The moonlight stroked her hair like a mother’s adoring hand, making the long braid glow white.

“Well, I’m cold,” Neve said, and she persisted, this time wrapping her arm, along with the blanket, around Caitriona’s shoulders, tucking them both into a little tartan cocoon.

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