Page 95

“Good.” Bron pulls out a handheld mirror. “Bayla needs to tell you something.”

Mirrors are an efficient means of communication. They channel magic extraordinarily well and everyone has one, and if they don’t have one, it’s not hard to find a reflective surface nearby.

But communicating is usually only one way, because only those with magic can do it.

Bron hands the mirror to me. Its frame is sterling silver with an engraving of poppies and vines. A relic of the royal court.

The handle firmly in my grip, I need only think of Bayla and within seconds, she’s staring back at me through the ether.

“What do you have for me?”

“We’ve managed to calm the fighting trees,” she says.

“That’s good.”

“But it was while some of my soldiers were replenishing in town that something odd caught our attention.”

“I’m listening.”

“Dorothy is here.”

I try to bury my excitement. “Where?”

“In a tavern in Eisvale called the Jolly Emerald.”

“Do you know why?”

“My soldiers only reported that she and the Tinman were looking for a local named Blue.”

I sit upright and immediately hiss out with pain. “Fuck.” I pat at my pockets and find them suspiciously flat. Leaning back, I dig into both and realize the West’s letter is gone.

“Fuck.”

“What is it?” Bron asks.

I hand him the mirror as I struggle to my feet.

Kansas, you clever little fox.

What a fool I was to even show her that I had the letter. And then she scuffled with me, clearly as a means to an end.

I wanted more time.

I needed more fucking time.

“Did they find this man named Blue?”

“From the sounds of it,” Bayla answers, “yes.”

“Who is Blue?” Bron asks.

A very good question. I have theories. None of them good. I can feel Bayla watching me through the glass. “What do you know?” I ask her.

“I only have local legends and stories. And they were very hard to get.

“Tell me.”

“Apparently, the townsfolk believe him to be a Cardinal God in hiding.”