“A woman?” Mother stepped forward. “Who is this woman?”
Nevan pushed his spectacles up his nose. “I don’t know. She’s very angry, though. Threatened to break some of my potion bottles. I had to restrain her, and that made her angrier. She’s still in my lab.” A visible shudder rolled through him. “I think we might have landed on her home.”
Cillian jabbed a finger at him. “Find out everything you can about this woman and this place. We need to know where we are.”
Nevan took a step back. “Can’t anyone else do that? I just got my whole lab back. Think of all the things I can do now. My notebooks, my equations, my years of work?—”
“Maybe this mystery woman can help you,” Mother suggested.
“Not a bad thought,” Morton said, now at our side. “She did spout off a bunch of plant names, telling Nevan she’d castrate him if they’d been destroyed by this castle.”
“Did she, now?” Mother asked.
I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly what Mother was up to. If she thought she could push Nevan and a completely random woman together, she was going to be sorely disappointed. Nevan had one true love, and it would always be his potions.
“What if I don’t want to talk to her?” Nevan crossed his arms, and I snorted.
Cillian shot him a glare. “Then I’ll make you.” He punched his fist into his hand.
Nevan gave him a disbelieving look. “I saw you hit Wolfe. I think I’ll be okay.”
“Nevan, please take care of this for your brother,” Mother said, and Jerome nodded in encouragement.
Nevan sighed. “Okay. Fine. I’ll... deal with her.” With that, he turned and disappeared through the doorway, Morton slithering toward us.
At this point, everyone had forgotten about Nevan and was plastered to the windows, murmuring and pointing, an air of unease rippling through the room.
“Harriet,” Cillian said. “Open the doors, and everybody get back.”
The village listened and shuffled backward, no one interested in leaving the safe confines of the castle.
“Where are we?” I asked as Harriet opened the doors, more sunlight peeking in.
Cillian strode to the doorway, back to me, as Morton, Niamh, and I joined him.
Niamh let out a gasp at the view surrounding us.
“We landed in a swamp?” Cillian asked.
“It’s technically a bog,” Morton said, and Cillian turned to glare at him. “What?” The bookwyrm glared right back. “There’s a difference.”
I blinked, trying to process what I was seeing.
“Well, the good news is all of Fairwitch came with us,” Niamh said.
“The bad news is it looks like it’s being eaten by a swamp,” I added.
“A bog,” Morton said.
Our entire city had landed on it, looking exactly like it had in the previous location with cobblestone streets and all the businesses—except instead of rolling hills, murky green water and marshes surrounded us, ominous green smoke rising from it like a dense fog.
“We’re going to need a lot of boats.” Cillian scratched the back of his head.
“We’re going to need a lot of alcohol,” I said, and Niamh elbowed me.
“Harriet,” Cillian told his guard. “Close the doors and keep everyone safe. We’re going to explore our new home.”
She sighed but listened, closing the doors to the castle and disappearing from view.
