Page 121 of The Moorwitch

“Sylvie!” I rasp, lunging for her.

Grabbing her arm, I turn her around and find her gazing blankly at me. But her hands are moving, tying a fire knot.

I knock the thread from her fingers, horrified.

“Youdid this?” My voice is a croak in my throat.

I shake her by her shoulders but get no response. It’s as if she cannot see me at all. Otherwise, she seems unharmed save for the singe marks on her nightgown and soot smeared on her skin.

The flames on the loom leap up suddenly, catching the tapestry. I pull Sylvie back, eyes wide as the beautiful ward spell begins to shrivel and flake to ash. Captain growls and retreats, staying between us and the flames.

Dreadful understanding bursts in my mind.

Pulling the girl to the window, I knock out the glass with my elbow and give us a thin flow of fresh air. I turn Sylvie around, looking over every inch of her, then my gaze settles on her thick dark hair.

“Oh, Sylvie,” I whisper.

I run my fingers through her locks and find them—tiny, subtle knots tied in the fine hairs at her nape, nearly imperceptible. There are dozens of them—the same knots woven over and over again.

Puppetry spells.

They’re illegal, and extremely difficult to Weave. But I know Lachlan is likely more than up to the job. He must have the mirror versions of these knots tied up somewhere, waiting to be thrummed to life and then manipulated, triggering Sylvie to carry out the task he would have whispered in her ear, planted in her brain like a poisonous seed while serving her tea and strawberries. The moment Conrad put the branch in my hands, Lachlan would have activated them, setting her to her terrible task of destroying the warding tapestry and Ravensgate with it.

I curse myself for not finding the knots sooner. I’d searched Sylvie’s dress that day, but not her hair. Stupid! It is the same sort of trick Conrad once suspectedmeof. I should have seen it.

There is no time to undo each knot one by one, nor to wait for their magic to burn her hair to ashes. Already Sylvie has produced another thread from somewhere and is trying to tie another fire knot. I wrench it away, then plunge my hand into my pocket, nearly cutting my palm on the shard of the portal glass as I pull it out.

“I’m sorry, Sylvie,” I whisper.

I slice the shard roughly through her hair, sawing it off at her jawline, cutting through the awful puppetry knots.

The moment they fall away, Sylvie starts, blinking and looking around. Then she grabs hold of me, eyes wild.

“I didn’t mean to!” she cries. “I couldn’t stop myself! It’s like I was trapped in my own head!”

“I know,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around her. “It’s all right. You’re safe now.”

But she isn’t. None of us are. The manor is on fire, and we’re trapped up here with no way down. The window is too small for even Sylvie to squeeze out, even if I could manage to Weave some spell to slow her descent to a survivable speed.

Through the window, I see the MacDougals standing in the drive, clinging to one another, Mrs. MacDougal sobbing. I wave but cannot catch their attention.

Turning back to Sylvie, I hold her shoulders and look her in the eyes.

“Is there any other way out of the attic?”

She shakes her head, pale as a ghost. “I don’t know.”

“Sylvie,think.”

She begins to cry.

“Do you have more thread, then?”

She nods and pulls a strand from her pocket, pushing it into my palm. It’s pitifully short. I look at the sea silk tied to my wrist and know it’s pointless. I don’t have enough to get us out of here, and it would take too long to unravel our clothes or Weave hair, even with the mass of Sylvie’s dark locks on the floor.

But I Weave the thread Sylvie gave me anyway, and a simple wind charm is all I can manage to get out of it. A gust blows through the window and out again, clearing the smoke just enough for us to catch our breaths.

The fire has spread from the loom on one side of us and spilled from the stairway on the other. We’re trapped between two walls of flame that are closing in. I look at the sea silk and wonder if there is enough to Weave a heart-stopping spell, to end it quickly and save us both from the pain of the fire.