Page 103 of The Mirror of Beasts

Neve’s mouth opened. Closed. A small noise of frustration built in her throat.

“How do we get to Lyonesse?” Caitriona said, ignoring Neve’s protests.

“I can certainly help you,” the Bonecutter said, folding her hands in front of her. A pretty, prim picture. “For a price, of course.”

“Can’t wait to hear this,” I muttered, standing from the table. “What do you want?”

“I would like the Mirror of Shalott,” the Bonecutter said.

“What? No!” Neve said, outraged. “We can still use it—”

“Not without the right sigils,” I said.

“I wrote to the sorceresses about it,” Neve said. “I’m sure they’ll help.”

“All the more reason to move it out of their grasp,” Caitriona said. “They deserve no easy solution to protect themselves.”

The Bonecutter’s lips curled. “I’m coming around to you, Caitriona of Avalon.”

“But—” Neve sent me an imploring look.

“We don’t want to trap Lord Death,” I told her. “We want to destroy him and his hunt.”

The Bonecutter let out a small noise of surprise. “Is your brother not running with the Wild Hunt now?”

“We want to destroy the hunt,” I forced myself to repeat. Cabell was no different than the other killers.

Neve’s disappointment was palpable; but we were past the point of countering Lord Death’s moves—we needed to get ahead of him.

“There’s only eight days until the solstice,” I reminded her. “Even if we can prevent him from finding you—” At Neve’s doubtful look I added, “Fine, from finding the soul—the hag said that the doorway to Annwn can be opened on the winter solstice. If Lord Death doesn’t get the soul, what if this world’s punishment is flooding it with more dark souls, more Children? Innocent people will die, and his power will only continue to grow.”

“He’s already begun,” the Bonecutter said. She snapped her fingers and Bran materialized at her side again, making all three of us jump. He held out a stack of newspapers to me, his expression dour as I took them.

The headlines screamed back at us as I flipped through them. Papers from the United Kingdom, from the United States, even France—all showing countless images of snow-crushed homes and the desperate struggle to dig loved ones out of shops and streets.

HUNDREDS KILLED IN FREAK WINTER STORM

VILLAGE FAMILIES FEAR WORST AS DOZENS STILL MISSING FROM ICE STORM

LIVESTOCK LEFT RAVAGED BY SUSPECTED WOLF PACK

STRANGE SIGHTINGS HAUNT THE EAST

The black ink blurred in front of me. I tore my gaze away from the stack of papers. “They’re attacking cities now? Not just the sorceresses?”

“The—what did you call them? The Children?” the Bonecutter began. “The Children have been feeding, but I suspect Lord Death knows that the more souls he collects, the more riders he’ll have to hunt the Sistren.”

“And the more death magic he’ll have at his fingertips,” Neve finished.

“The Cunningfolk have been trying to hunt the creatures and keep reports of their sightings under wraps,” the Bonecutter explained, “but some mortals do have the One Vision, even if they possess no other magic. It will not stay contained forever, and once magic is exposed to the wider world …”

I threw the newspapers down on the table. “You can have the gods-forsaken mirror. Just tell us where Excalibur is.”

“As I said, I’ll do you one better,” the Bonecutter said, motioning for us to join her as she moved toward her workshop. “I will give you everything you need to get there.”

A small smile ghosted her lips as she added, “Of course, the problem isn’t getting to Lyonesse. It’s surviving it.”

Within an hour, we found ourselves back on the ancient, hallowed land of Tintagel, awaiting midnight, and a journey down to Merlin’s Cave at the base of the castle ruins.

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