Page 8

“Farther than I thought you’d get,” Estelle said from her perch.

She’d changed out of her fancy gown and was dressed in black cigarette pants and a cream blouse. Her hair was tied up into a French twist.

Kierse narrowed her eyes, and the image of Estelle flickered at the edges. She could see the red dress underneath, the hair down and loose.

She quickly covered her own ears with her hair, knowing the points were visible. Estelle’s magic had blasted through her defenses like a freight train. Now she was stuck with the master warlock and didn’t have enough magic left to know what was real and what wasn’t.

Which meant Estelle had the advantage. Kierse would have to face her, in this room, alone. No Graves. No absorption. No defenses. Just Kierse.

Which had always been enough before. And it would have to be enough now.

She pushed up to all fours and then forced herself upright. She had survived her mother’s death and her father’s abandonment. She had survived Jason’s relentless abuse. She had survived on the streets of New York during the Monster War. She was a survivor .

This would not stop her. No matter what Estelle had planned for her.

Now that her initial shock had worn off, Kierse turned her attention to the treasure trove around her.

The room had no vault. Why use a vault when wards were this powerful?

Illusions of the people you cared about dying were a sufficient deterrent.

But now Kierse was inside, and she could see there were innumerable priceless paintings, jewels, and artifacts.

All pieces she would have killed to steal in another life.

Which was good, because Kierse knew how to replenish her magic—stealing. Easy enough in a room full of treasures.

Kierse swallowed. “You underestimated me.”

“Graves,” Estelle said on a sigh. Her illusions flickered between the gown and the pants. “He always collects such interesting people.”

“Such as?”

Estelle waved a hand. “You, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Kierse bit out.

“His wife,” Estelle said with a bland smile.

Kierse kept her gaze purposely off of Estelle as she made a slow circuit of the room. “Impressive collection.”

“Dusty trinkets. You and I both know that’s not what I’m interested in collecting.”

Kierse slipped a coin in her hand, rolling it between her fingers. She felt Estelle’s pull on her lessen slightly. “What are you interested in collecting? Because as far as I know, you have the cauldron.”

Estelle tsk ed. “Give me more stimulating conversation.”

Kierse laughed. For some reason, she kind of liked Estelle. She was likely unhinged, but at least she admitted to her games. “As you wish.”

She slipped on a diamond bracelet, and the next time she looked at Estelle, she could barely see the outline of the woman she was pretending to be. Kierse only wanted to deal with the real thing.

“Tell me about the bracelet,” Estelle said.

“This one?” Kierse held up the diamonds she’d just slid on her wrist.

Estelle shot her a look, and Kierse grinned. Obviously not this one.

“Why did you steal it?”

Kierse shrugged. “Seemed fun at the time.”

Estelle’s laugh was a bell. “Fun. You stole from the queen of the nymphs for fun. Perhaps you are correct and I did underestimate you. You are much too like Graves.”

She was uncertain what she thought of that assessment from someone else. She’d already thought it too many times herself. “Is that how you knew we were married already? You’re in consort with the queen?”

“Do you believe Graves unaware of that?”

Kierse slipped a ring on her finger. She remembered him saying that Aveline wouldn’t cross Estelle. Had he meant something more than that? It would be like him to leave out the important details.

“Graves keeps his own counsel.”

“You do know him,” Estelle said with a bitter laugh.

Kierse slipped a ruby pin into her hair before turning back to Estelle. “I do know him, but you already knew that,” Kierse intuited. “You were aware of us long before I stole that bracelet.”

Estelle inclined her head. “It may have reached my ears that Graves’s new apprentice was immune to magic. I thought he might make a play for the cauldron with you.”

Immune to magic. That was what Graves had originally believed, and it was the lie they’d peddled around when he’d discovered her absorption abilities. She was glad that at least that truth hadn’t reached anyone’s ears.

But that wasn’t all that Estelle had told her. She had known Graves was going to come after the cauldron, and he was going to do it with someone who could break into this room. She had planned to test Kierse’s immunity. Hence the wave of magic. Which meant…

“The cauldron isn’t here,” Kierse said.

Estelle pointed a lacquered nail at her. “Correct.”

“This was a test for me. Not Graves.”

“I’ve lived a long time,” Estelle said as she stood. She stepped up to Kierse and dragged a nail down her cheek. “I like new things.”

“I’m not for sale.”

“Everything is for sale,” Estelle said sweetly. She pursed her lips and tilted her head. “He has done quite a number on you, hasn’t he?”

Kierse refused to step back. She met Estelle’s unending violet eyes with her own dark, narrowed ones. She didn’t particularly like being made a pawn in someone else’s game, by Estelle or otherwise. And if the cauldron wasn’t here, then she didn’t need to spend another minute here.

“If the game is over, then I’ll be going.”

Kierse turned from her, flipping the coin across her knuckles again as she headed for the door. Turning her back on her opponent wasn’t her best bet, but she had a feeling Estelle found her more valuable alive.

“I have one more game,” Estelle said. “If you don’t want to leave empty-handed.”

She sighed heavily and stilled her feet. “What game?”

“A riddle. Simple thing. You guess the answer and I’ll provide information to what you’re after.”

A riddle. Kierse didn’t know if this was a trap or not. If she felt like she was in one, it was usually too late.

“And what happens if I answer incorrectly?”

“You lose the game,” Estelle said with a smile.

“What comes with a loss?”

“A truth.”

Truth. Kierse frowned. The truth hadn’t been kind, and she doubted Estelle’s would be, either. But what could Estelle know about her that would be a truth Kierse did not already know? Was it worth it to try?

“Tell me the riddle.”

Estelle’s smile sharpened at Kierse’s agreement. “I thought you might change your mind.”

Kierse hated that Estelle was right—she didn’t want to leave here empty-handed. Her magic was recharging, and she could just barely see the film of Estelle’s illusions. She wasn’t strong enough by a long shot, but it was better than nothing.

“You’ll have five minutes to complete the riddle, otherwise you lose. Are you ready?”

Kierse nodded with her heart in her throat. “Ready.”

“I’m not given, I’m taken away,

A choice that leaves a debt to pay.

For love or honor, or for a cause,

I’m offered willingly, despite the loss.

In games of strategy, I’m a mere pawn.

Moves planned out, a piece withdrawn.

What am I?”

Kierse stared at Estelle as if she had grown a second head.

It sounded like gibberish. Wouldn’t it have been great to have the master of knowledge at her command to put the pieces together for her?

But wasn’t that why Estelle didn’t play with Graves anymore?

He figured out her games too easily. He always won.

And Estelle wanted to win, despite whatever she said about not caring about winning or losing.

She needed to look at this section by section. She wished that she’d written it down. Fuck.

Okay. She remembered “not given but taken away,” which seemed obvious. Something that “leaves a debt.” That could be something like a promise or obligation. Hmm…that didn’t feel right. How would a promise be “taken away”?

She needed the next lines. Something about love and loss.

“Can I have the second pair of lines again?”

Estelle sighed but repeated them.

Kierse bit her lip and considered what love, honor, and a cause had to do with offering something up willingly but with a loss. She had no idea. Possibly forgiving someone. You have to give something of yourself to forgive in any of those scenarios. But for a cause…how did that fit?

“And the final lines?”

Estelle finished out the couplet that spoke about strategy, a pawn, and losing pieces. So chess. She knew that much. She’d played chess with Jason to hone her strategic capabilities when on a job. What game could be played here that related to a promise or forgiveness?

None.

She didn’t think any of it fit.

“Do you have an answer?” Estelle asked.

“My five minutes aren’t up,” Kierse said, working through the problem.

All three sections talked about giving something up—taken away, loss, and withdrawn. What could be forfeited in each of these situations?

“The clock is ticking,” Estelle said, pointing at an ornate clock on the wall and watching Kierse intently.

Kierse glanced at the clock and winced. She was down to her last minute.

She went back to the last couplet, which made the most sense to her. What happened in chess when she withdrew a piece? A loss. A strategic move. A capture by an opponent.

Was Estelle trying to show Kierse she was on a chess board? That her next move was wrong somehow? Or that her opponent had outwitted her? No, riddles were more veiled than that. What was something offered willing, but at a loss, not given, but taken away, and used in chess?

“Time,” Estelle said. “I will have your answer.”

Kierse wracked her brain. She needed this answer.

A creeping awareness came over her. A tactic that Jason had always been better at than Kierse.

When they’d played chess, he’d usually won, because he was willing to let her take his pieces so that he could get ahead.

And in his mind, people were as disposable as the chess pieces.

She had never been able to think like that—to think that someone was worth throwing away.

But it was the answer that she needed here.

“Sacrifice,” Kierse said.

Estelle’s face froze in surprise. “Correct.” Then she smiled dangerously. She gestured to Kierse. “The sacrificial lamb.”

Kierse ground her teeth. “You’ve made your point.”

“Have I?” Estelle asked as she retrieved an envelope. “Do you truly believe that Graves thought the cauldron was here? That he could take down my security system so easily, clearing the way for you to come up here and enter this room? He was using you to get information.”

Kierse felt the sting of Estelle’s words. She had assumed that if she lost, the truth would hurt, but even in winning the truth Estelle imparted was painful.

She had thought that she was in on the game this time. That they’d planned it together. Only now was it obvious that he’d kept part of the strategy to himself. Once again she had fallen right into his trap. The whole thing was exhausting.

Estelle held out the envelope. “Your prize.”

Kierse snatched it out of her hand. “This better be worth it.”

“And what would be worth it, to you?”

Kierse didn’t have an answer for that. But either way, she was done here.

“My jewelry.” Estelle held her hand out.

Kierse sighed and then dropped the ring and diamond bracelet in her palm. “If you insist.”

“And the coin.”

“You said jewelry,” Kierse said with a dangerous smile.

“I should have been more specific.”

Kierse flipped the coin to Estelle. She waited for Estelle to say something about the pin, but when she didn’t mention it, Kierse said over her shoulder, “Enjoy your games.”

“Before you go,” Estelle said, stopping Kierse at the door. “Are you actually married?”

Kierse put on a matching smile as she turned and said, “That would ruin the game, wouldn’t it?”