Page 71 of The Moorwitch

My muffled panic breaks free and sends spikes of alarm vibrating through my body. I start breathing sharply, my heart fluttering too fast.

“I have to get out of here,” I whimper.

“Gently now,” Conrad murmurs. He pulls me close, his lips against my ear, which sends a wave of heat rippling over my skin. Those blasted visions of him kissing me come roaring back to the front of my thoughts. “We cannot leave just yet, or they will take notice. We must be subtle, and you must stay clearheaded.”

“She means to kill me,” I gasp. “She’ll drain my life force to fuel her own, or drink my blood, or—”

“You’re speaking nonsense. Morgaine doesn’t do things like that.” He pauses, then adds, “Not usually.”

That doesn’t make me feel any better. I twist around, looking for her, but Conrad gives me a little shake.

“Don’t look!” he says angrily. “Do you ken how close you were to losing your mind entirely? Once you forget who you are, you can never leave this place. And they aredrenchedin forgetting spells. ’Tis how they survive immortality, by constantly wiping away the past. But their magic is too strong for you. It would obliterate your mind entirely. Not that you wouldn’t deserve it, blundering into places you’ve no business. Honestly, why must you be so profoundlynosy?”

“What aboutyourmind? Or are you one of them?”

“I am as human as you are,” he replies, his jaw tight. “But I am also more used to this place.”

“You’re a bastard. You’ve been lying all this time. To me, to Sylvie.”

“I’m the bastard who’s going to get you out of here,” he returns roughly. “Whatever I say or do, Rose, youmustplay along as if your life depends on it. Because it does. Remember: Keep your eyes on me.”

But my eyes dart upward, to the Dwirra Tree on the hill, and the smaller saplings shooting up from its roots like children gathered around their mother’s feet. Those slender limbs would be within my reach, if I could slip away unseen.

But Conrad is tugging me away, through the dancing fae. I resist, glancing at the Dwirra, wondering how I could reach it, if I might create some sort of distraction.

“Rose,” he whispers urgently.

Who knows if I’ll get a chance like this again? I pull away a little more, until he has me by the wrist and we are stretched apart, clearly not dancing anymore, and it is this which gives us away.

She is on us in a blink of the eye, black silk and spiderwebs, inhuman eyes crackling with anger. Her arm snakes around me, gripping my waist tight as if I were her wayward child, and Conrad’s hand falls from mine. He meets her gaze silently, and the three of us stand locked in a terrible tableau as the dancers whirl around us. My head swims; I watch Conrad’s face now in earnest, as I feel the tug of fae memory spells wash over me again, stronger and sharper, like flowering vines turned into venomous snakes.

“Are you trying to steal my pet away, Connie?” Morgaine asks.

Conrad’s jaw is hard, his face schooled to calm. He does not flinch away from her.

“She is a guest in my house,” he says after a moment. “She only lost her way.”

“Is that it?” Morgaine looks at me. “Did you lose your way, little witch?”

“I am responsible for her,” says Conrad. “Let me take her home.”

The queen’s fingers creep up my arm. She slides her hand up my neck, toying with me, letting me feel her strength. She smells of magic;it glitters on her skin, tingles at her touch. One of her spiders crawls over my shoulder.

“You know I don’t like it when you keep secrets from me, Connie.”

“She’s hardly a secret. She’s a terrible meddler, aye, but she’s just passing through. She’s no one.”

“You don’t look at her as if she’s no one. You don’tdancewith her as if she’s no one.”

He looks at me, anger sharpening his cheekbones, souring the line of his mouth.

“You’re right,” he mutters. “I didn’t—I hadn’t planned on telling you like this, but I suppose we cannot hide it any longer. Rose and I ...” He steps forward, takes my other hand. I feel like a rope being pulled by two dogs. “We plan to marry.”

My eyes open wide; I stop myself just in time from blurting out a prickly denial, remembering his whisper to me moments ago.Play along as if your life depends on it.

So I pry apart my teeth and say in a strained voice, “Yes. Of course.”

Morgaine’s head tilts, a faint smile on her lips. “Is that so.”