Reluctantly, he lets me go, and the three of us push off in the remaining dinghy. Damion stands on the shore, watching us drift out on the river. With the smoke and the fading flames behind him, he looks slightly unreal—a ghost, a flickering image in a magic-lantern show, a star falling to earth, a moment that can’t last.
the firelight, Gin’s eyes change from one state to the other, from violet to white, inviting to terrifying. “Hello, Gemma. What brings you here?”
“I—I was looking for Fee,” I say.
She frowns playfully. “You’ve lost her, have you? Tsk-tsk, Gemma. How careless. Well, I suppose you’ll have to come have a look inside, then. Follow me.”
Gry takes us to her castle like a conquering queen. She’s still lovely. She has the magic working for her, but she has not shared much of
