6
Agatha
Ivy and Marchesa curtsey. “Greetings, Lady Cloake,” they say in unison.
I shake my head. And just a few minutes ago, I was the one trying to warn them that we were heading into another fiefdom. Meanwhile, it might have been helpful for them to share how Nal’Adel has a terrifying guard.
Lady Cloake raises her arms. Lines of black shadow curl up from the misty ground, their shapes reminding me of wide ribbons. The strips rise to surround all four of us like the bars in a cage.
We’re closed in.
This time, I know to look at Ivy and Marchesa for clues as to what’s going on. Neither of them seems worried, so I’m guessing this is just how things work with Lady Cloake.
So far, so good.
Lady Cloake snaps her fingers; more dark ribbons of shadow rise up. These wrap around me, mummy-
