Page 138 of The Mirror of Beasts

“You okay?” Emrys asked quietly.

“Fine,” I managed to get out.

I hated that my first instinct was to lie, but paranoia was contagious. It was better if one of us held on to their nerves.

“Just worried about Neve,” I added, which was true. Thinking of Neve gave me something to focus on besides the horrible sensation of tingling and rot that had returned to my skin.

We followed the curve of the walkway until we found a set of stairs that would lead us out into the surrounding woodland. There, the tangle of man and nature was even more pronounced. Graves had been reclaimed by the wild, their stone markers dislodged or set crooked by stubborn roots.

A flash of red hair ahead made me slow.

“Great,” Emrys muttered, ducking his chin and keeping his eyes on the ground.

Madrigal was huffing and puffing, muttering darkly to herself as her heeled boots struggled against the cobbled path.

“Nice night for a walk,” Nash noted as we passed her.

She glared at him, then turned her narrowed gaze onto Emrys, sizing him up. For a moment, I was genuinely worried she was going to ask him to carry her the rest of the way.

“Why did you even come?” I asked, my hate for her overcoming even my fear of what she was capable of.

“Beastie,” she growled at me. “Do you honestly believe I would have left the comfort of my home if I had any say in the matter?”

“I wasn’t aware a crone such as yourself could be made to do anything against your will,” Nash commented, a brow arched.

“Even I must fall to my knees at the Council of Sistren’s command,” Madrigal said, “and suffer the indignity of it.”

“Yes, poor persecuted you,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Now, now,” Madrigal said. “I vouched for you with the Council, didn’t I? That was your consolation prize. Don’t be sore about losing. I returned my darling pet to you—”

“He’s not your pet!” I snapped, temper flaring.

“Tamsin—” Emrys began, but I was too furious to stop myself.

I spun toward her. “What did you even do with the ring?”

“Once I realized Lord Death’s promise of revenge wasn’t a curse as we believed, and it was worthless to me, I put it away for safekeeping,” Madrigal said. “Where no one else will ever find it.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but Emrys’s hand found mine, pulling me farther away from the sorceress. I was angry at him for not being angry himself, but a single, pleading look reminded me why.

God’s teeth, I thought, my own heart stilling in my chest. Anything he said to her, if she took it the wrong way …

“As it turns out, the only way to survive a catastrophe I’m not even responsible for is to save the others as well,” she groused. “So here I am, one of the Sistren yet again, back to saving these wart-nosed banshees from themselves.”

“Lovely,” Emrys murmured.

Loose gravel spat up from under our feet as we made our way forward, silence settling over us again. A thick wall of trees shielded the cemetery from the rest of the city. It was unnerving not to hear so much as a car pass, regardless of how late it was.

Nash’s expression was serious again; he walked with his hands behind his back.

“What?” I asked him.

To my eternal surprise, he actually answered. “Working through our options should Caitriona not return with the sword.”

“And?” I asked.

“Still thinking on it,” Nash said. “The trouble is that as long as Lord Death wears the horned crown, and it’s this close to the solstice, he’ll be able to summon the full might of Annwn’s death magic.”

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