Bottles scented with black sage, bergamot, and vanilla stood at the tub’s edge, and I dropped a few precious drops into the water. The sharp, fresh scent made me sneeze.
A bronze tray sat beside them—a faceted decanter of brandy, a small dish of sugared violets. Nearby, fresh linens waited: thick and clean.
Things were not that bad, I thought, soaking with a silly smile.
If I played my cards right, I might win my freedom back.
I had a plan.
Get on the good side of Emrys.
Find as much information as possible.
Collect more clues about the ley lines.
Then, in the worst case, bring the papers I already had to Vexley and the Renegade and bargain.
In the best case, I’d find a way out of here and run.
Cagliostro’s threat and his mark seemed like vague problems now, fading into the scented steam and the daylight. Maybe it was just some village magician’s trick to scare me?
“One by one, Daphne,” I whispered. “You’ll survive. You’ve been dealing with monsters all your life.” I leaned back and started humming.
When the water started cooling, I stepped out of the tub and wrapped myself in a linen.
I frowned at the bloodstained dress on the floor and walked to the large dresser near the fireplace. It was made of ancient oak, with brass hinges shaped like curling vines. A faint scent of lavender and a swarm of moths rushed out when I opened it.
The woman who lived here had a wardrobe worthy of a queen. And impeccable taste. Some dresses were too opulent for my taste and outdated, but some simple everyday pieces were timeless.
I picked a plain purple cotton dress with pearl buttons running all the way up my throat.
It was wide in the waist, but I appreciated the freedom to move without a restraining corset.
Brushing my short hair with my fingers, I twirled in front of the old mirror with its dark edges.
Warmth filled my chest.
Something I’d nearly forgotten: hope.
A rustling of fabric behind me made me whip my head around.
My lips trembled. When I looked, there was nothing, just speckles of dust dancing in the colorful light from the stained windows.
Still, the pressure in the air shifted. My ears popped.
When I returned my gaze to the mirror, I caught a flash of movement behind me.
Was it my imagination—or was there a pale woman with gray hair and sad eyes watching me?
Did she wear the same dress? Strange, there was no threat coming from her. Just infinite sadness.
I shook my head.
Ghosts couldn’t hurt me.
Hollowborn, though, and diabolical men like the doctor, the Renegade, and my brother could.
Shadows couldn’t stop me.
