“Drown,” I told her, and dissolved into water.
Her eyes widened and her smile vanished. Quick as a striking snake, she grabbed the coffin lid and slammed it shut.
If I still had a mouth, I would have laughed. My waters swelled and rose, preparing to burst the glass, flood the tower, rise over the treetops, and—
Nothing happened.
I filled the coffin, but it didn’t shatter. Had I merely managed to become a large puddle?
“Nothing can get out when the lid is closed,” Angelique said. “Not wind or water, fire or frost. I enchanted it myself. You might as well change back.”
My thoughts were once more dissolving into the languid roil of water. If I didn’t pull myself together now, I might very well be stuck that way for another month. I didn’t much fancy the idea of spending it locked in a box.
Think of human things,I told myself.Hands. Feet. Hair in desperate need of a brush. The feel of my tongue pressed against the back of my teeth. Lips. Kissing. You can’t kiss without lips.
Dragging my flesh back together felt like sculpting jelly. Somehow, I forced my fluid shape to congeal into a panting body. My clothes remained soaking wet, and a thin stream of water trickled from my hair and pooled at the base of the coffin.
I glared at Angelique. Being taken out of one cage only to be stuck into another was extremely tiresome. “I see you prepared for me.”
“You, and the chilly one, and the strong one, and the others.” The glass muffled her voice, but if I listened closely, I was able to make out what she was saying. “I have to say, you attacked me more quickly than I expected. Drowning’s such a nasty death, too. What if I came here on a daring rescue mission and was about to spirit you to safety?”
“You didn’t. And you weren’t.”
“No.”
She waited expectantly.
It wasn’t as if I would gain anything by keeping silent. “The timing of the siege was strange. Why didn’t it begin when the hunters were helpless birds? Why only after you stopped being regent? So I started putting together some of the other little signs. Like how you knew about the pumpkin coach when I hadn’t told anyone.”
“You hadn’t?”
“No. The hunters never saw it. I pretended I’d come without one.”
“My own fault. I assumed too much honesty from you, even though I knew you were a liar.” She heaved a little sigh.
“And then, of course, there was the spinning wheel.”
“Ah, yes. Thank you for the idea, by the way. Not the first you’ve given me. It’s why I think we might work so well together.” When I didn’t respond, she added, “How is it that the curse only brought you? I was hoping to acquire a full set of hunters, too. You should have all been compelled to prick yourselves on the spindle.”
I fidgeted in the close, damp confines, trying to find a more comfortable position. There really wasn’t one. “I smashed it.”
“Pity.”
“Is the lion your collaborator or just a dupe? Were the peas yours, too?”
“I’d love to tell you everything. I think you might enjoy it better if you weren’t in such a cramped space. Will you promise to behave?”
It seemed unwise to let her know I probably wouldn’t be capable of repeating the lake trick right then if I wanted to. The lingering traces of her kiss had surely faded.
I squirmed onto my side so I could look at her more directly. “How do you know I would keep any such promise?”
“You might not,” she replied. “However, do you know what happens to someone if they’re interrupted midway through turning into a lake?”
“I…don’t, actually.”
“Neither do I.” She smiled sweetly. “If we can have a civilized conversation, neither of us will have any need to find out.”
Could she do that? Bring a spell to a halt in the middle of the casting? I’d never heard of such a thing. There was no doubt she was powerful—she had bred hundreds of monstrosities in her tower and ripped the stone giants out of the earth itself. I’d felt the touch of her spell work, and it had been no petty curse. She was one of the mightiest sorceresses I’d ever met. Perhaps as mighty as my stepmother.
