Page 58 of Beyond the Cottage

“My power lies in changing things. Well, notchangingthem, but altering their appearance.”

Taking a breath, Gretta forced down a bubble of excitement. In the lab, she’d told Ansel what kind of witch she was looking for. He might have mentioned it to Isobel when they were outside, hoping Gretta would lose the incentive to kill his friend.

“Conveniently, you have no way of proving anything you say.”

Isobel tapped her yellowed nails on the table in time to the hammer pounding on the roof. After a moment, she dragged a fingertip along the empty teacup’s rim. The air hummed as the cup’s blue floral pattern turned acid green.

Gretta slammed back in her chair, oxygen whooshing from her lungs. She stared at the cup, dazed, as the air grew thick again but not from panic.

Exhilaration, relief,hopeburst inside her. After years of hunting, years of watching Nat suffer, she’d found an illusion witch. It almost didn’t seem real.

With a trembling hand, Gretta picked up the cup and turned it over. It subtly thrummed with magic, and she set it away without taking her eyes off it.

Her excitement dimmed. She’d found an illusion witch—now what?

The original plan she and Nat had concocted was useless. Gretta owned a spun silver sack, but it was at the inn. Even ifshe had it on hand, Ansel would never let her stuff Isobel inside it. If Gretta could somehow hinder him, she didn’t have Brand to carry the load.

None of that mattered in the first place if Isobel’s powers were too weak to be useful.

She schooled her expression and kept her voice neutral. “Can you undo spells? Those of others, specifically?”

“Sadly, no. While I still have some ability, it mostly amounts to parlor tricks.” Isobel winked. “I’d offer you a beauty talisman, but you don’t need it.”

“Can you unbind yourself?”

“…No.”

Gretta narrowed her eyes. She couldn’t tell if Isobel was lying.

Nat would be able to find out. He hadn’t always been an upstanding senator, and he knew ways of getting people to talk. But that required Isobel’s presence in the capital. Since toting her there by force was presently off the table, Gretta’s best option was trying to talk her into it.

And if that didn’t work? She’d return with Brand and her silver sack.

“Okay, look,” Gretta said. “I’m here because someone I care about needs your help. I don’t expect you to give a shit, but he’s a highly influential figure who’d be happy to owe you a favor for services rendered.”

“Under a spell, is he? I can only assume one that made him rather…uncomely?”

“That’s one way of putting it. The bitch responsible died before she could undo it, and your caste is frustratingly hard to come by.” She grit her teeth. “We’d really appreciate your assistance in the matter.”

Isobel sighed and sipped her drink. “I sympathize, truly, but where your friend is concerned, I’d be as useful as a scrotum on ahen.” She brightened. “You’re welcome to bring him a talisman, though.”

“That’s not going to cut it. I don’t want to pussyfoot here—what would it take to get you to meet him? Name anything, and he’ll give it to you.”

“I have everything I need.”

“What do youwant, though? I saw your gold stash, but some things can’t be bought. Security, protection, immunity under the law? He can offer that.” If Nat got elected chancellor, he’d make Isobel his goddamnviceif she restored him.

“While I don’t doubt your friend is powerful, I assure you his influence only extends so far. I’m afraid I can’t help him.” Isobel picked up a cookie and started munching. Her expression remained cheerful, but Gretta sensed the topic being shut down.

Well, fuck that. She still had a bullet left in the chamber.

Gretta closed her notepad and draped an arm on the back of her chair. “What if Ansel made you do it? I hold a degree of sway over him.” If he were presented with that choice, Gretta seriously doubted he’d side with her, but Isobel might not know that. The witch seemed familiar with his obsessive attachment to his former best friend.

What had he told her about them, anyway?

Isobel laughed. Even her cackle was melodious. “I like your spunk, honey, it’s what the boy needs. He takes everything way too seriously.”

“So glad I’ve amused you. He obviously didn’t tell you what he did to me, otherwise you’d know I don’t give a fuck what he needs.”

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