Page 141 of The Mirror of Beasts

As we watched, the sorceresses who were gathered by the windows used spells to cover the glass with stone, sealing the room off from the outside world.

There seemed to be two distinct wings to their headquarters, one on either side of the atrium. Emrys placed a hand on my lower back, redrawing my attention to him. I followed his line of sight to where two upper levels were visible—maybe the building really had been a hotel once? I couldn’t see the way up to either of them, not until Kasumi approached the eastern wall and triggered some unseen sigil. An enormous wooden staircase spiraled up from the stone floor.

“This floor will be fortified through cursework,” she told us. “You will not return to it unless explicitly told to.”

I bristled at that. “So now we’re trapped in here with you?”

“It’s all right,” Nash said. “This is the safest place we could be.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” Emrys muttered. His gaze had drifted back to the sorceresses sealing off the wall of windows. They were unpacking several large crates of mirrors. “Hey, isn’t that … ?”

A sorceress hung a familiar mirror on the center of the wall. Protective magic rippled over the frame’s many beasts.

“She sold them the mirror?” I said in disbelief.

“You have to admire the hustle,” Emrys said. “They must have figured out how to adjust the spellwork to trap the hunters and Lord Death.”

“Yeah,” I said. “But how are they going to trick them into being trapped?”

Kasumi guided Neve toward the stairs, ignoring the looks from the other sorceresses. “Isolde?”

“Yes, my lady?”

“Inform the others that there will be a meeting of the Council in the next hour, and have Davina meet us in my quarters.”

“O-Of course,” Isolde said, hurrying away in a swirl of skirts.

At the top of the stairs were two sorceresses carving yet more sigils into the floors. Magic rippled through the air around us as the spells were woven together like a protective net.

“They’ll need to be more subtle than that,” Kasumi said. “Layer in more masking spells.”

A pale-haired sorceress glanced up, and with a start, I recognized her sullen face. It was Acacia, one of the sorceresses who’d held us captive in the vault. Gone was the prideful sneer and the immaculate gown. Her hair slipped from a high bun, and her face was streaked with sweat and wood shavings.

“You,” she growled at me.

Emrys angled in front of me, his body tense.

“They are our guests,” Kasumi admonished.

“She is an Unmaker,” Acacia hissed.

Kasumi lifted her hand and released a punishing blast of wind. Acacia crashed into the wall behind her, and I tried not to smirk. Now she knew how it felt.

The other sorceresses quickly turned back to their own work, careful not to meet the High Sorceress’s eye.

“Finish here and join the others in the atrium,” Kasumi said.

Acacia stood up with a scowl, dusting off her dress. Her voice was barren of warmth. “Yes, my lady.”

We arrived on the third-floor landing and stared down the long hall. At the very end, where it curved left, was an imposing portrait of a dark-haired woman. There was something familiar about the forest around her—the lake at the edge of the frame.

“Morgan,” Nash said, staring at it with a peculiar look on his face.

“Octavia will take you to your rooms to wash and rest,” Kasumi said, sweeping past us with Neve. “New clothing will be brought up for you. Feel free to burn what you’re wearing.”

A sorceress materialized beside me and seized my arm.

“Don’t touch her,” Emrys said sharply, but I’d already extracted myself from her grasp.

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