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“They are a week away at most, miss,” she answers.

“A week?” I screech. “But they were not due to return for three weeks!”

“I believe it may have been a mistranslation.” Inez taps a finger off her chin. “The note came from Swordstead and werewolves written language is quite rudimentary.”

I sink into my seat, staring into the void.

“Fuck!” I scream suddenly, causing Inez to jump. “What are we going to do? We have no plan, and our research has gone nowhere.”

The image of the tunnel invades my mind.I push it firmly to the side.

“We do still have a week to think of something. Oh! Perhaps you could make a case for remaining in the castle as staff? Instead of…”

She trails off, unable to finish her sentence. The suggestion makes me gag, to be stuck under the king’s thumb as his servant while also watching Theo wed someone else. But I am rapidly running out of options.

“Maybe,” I admit. “It could give us more time to…I do not know. Dosomething.”

I sigh heavily and stand, picking up the leather book I had taken back from my art room.

“My apologies, Inez, we can go through your mother’s journal together tomorrow morning,” I tell her, the weight of it in my hands. “Tonight, I need to…think.”

“Of course, miss.”

“Is…is Vanya available?” I ask. I recall the queen’s altar she took us to and wonder what else she knew about the queen.

“I am afraid not, miss. I believe she accompanied Eliza to the nurse after a nasty burn.”

“Ah. I will call for her in the morning then. Send my regards to Eliza, please, if you see her.”

“Of course, miss.” Inez bobs a curtsy and leaves.

I sit on my bed, hunched. The weight of a thousand grains of sand trickling through the hourglass rests on my shoulders. I desperatelywish for Aunt Meena’s help and try to imagine what she would say.

Look at the facts. Remember your studies. Keep your head clear.

I let my face fall into my hands and groan. None of that helps me now. Once again, the tunnel pushes itself into my mind, and I sit up abruptly.

The tunnel. My escape. I glance out of the window, judging how high the moon is. With a rough estimate, I have several hours before the sun comes back up, and I need to be back in the castle. And Iwillcome back.

After I have seen Aunt Meena.

I fasten a thick cloak around my shoulders, a worry gnawing at me that I may be putting her safety at risk. I cannot let anyone in Mossgarde see me lest they report it to the king. I pull on comfortable boots and wait at my door, listening for the guard shift change.

As soon as the guard stationed outside walks away, his armour rattling down the halls, I slip out before the next one can arrive. The unused bedchamber is several doors down, so I scurry over as quickly as I can, my boots silent on the carpeted floors. When I find it, I sneak in and close the door softly behind me, just as the next guard arrives around the corner. I wait, holding my breath, until the sound of his footsteps passes. Only then do I creep over to the bookcase.

Nervous about the noise of the tunnelopening, I wait a while longer until I am sure the guard is outside my chambers and away from this room. Breathing deep, I pull the hidden lever and watch the tunnel shudder open. I nearly turn back but resist, pressing my lips together.

I will return.

I take a deep breath and charge into the tunnel.

???

I have forgotten how humid the air is in Mossgarde, how close it presses in around you. As soon as I step outside, tears threaten to spill. It is dark, but I recognise every sound of the swamp and the taste of the air. I clap a hand over my mouth and swallow my sobs, pressing them down for another day. Instead, I take a long, shaky breath and focus on finding Aunt Meena.

I am unsure where the tunnel has deposited me and turn slowly on the spot, trying to recognise anything around me. The moon casts slivers of silver beams through the canopy, ineffective against the darkness. Even as my eyes begin to adjust to the gloom, I cannot see much. Cursing, I gingerly take a step off the wooden platform and begin walking forward, wary of the soggy ground giving way to deep bogs that would swallow me whole.

After a few minutes of frustratingly little progress, I come to a halt. Something isdifferent. I freeze, wracking my brain to try and understand, when a tingle crawls up my spine. I shiver, thinking an insect has gotten into my dress, but it is not that. It…it is my ophid.