The Mirrorwood by Deva Fagan

Author:Deva Fagan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atheneum Books for Young Readers
Published: 2022-04-12T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I opened my mouth. Then snapped it shut, unable to find words. Because it was true. Mirachne had said that to end the blight, the demon prince had to be gotten rid of. Killed.

“Mirachne sent her? I knew it!” Odessa rounded on me, pausing only to shove her spectacles more firmly up her nose. “You can’t believe anything that witch says. She’s the reason we’re all in this mess! Toss a bit of glitter and starlight around, promise a few wishes granted, and the next thing you know she’s got you spun around her little finger. What did you wish for? Gold? Power? A lifetime of raspberry pies?”

“No!” I protested. “I don’t want any of that!”

Well, actually, a lifetime of pies didn’t sound bad, but it certainly wasn’t why I was here. And how dare they act like I was the villain? I’d come here to stop this. They were the ones living in the blighted castle, summoning twists!

“I’m blighted!” I told them. “Do you think I like stealing faces? Not having one of my own?” My voice shook, but I plunged on, heedless. “And Mirachne didn’t make me this way. You did!” I stabbed a finger at Lyrian.

He took a step back, lips parting, as if I’d struck him.

Silence. Phoula had retreated to Odessa’s side, her ears flicked downward, her tail curled around her knees. Odessa’s mouth was a round O. She shot a quick glance to the prince, then drew in a breath. “That’s not—”

“Let me handle this, Dess,” interrupted Lyrian, his shoulders stiff and straight. “You and Phoula should go have your tea.”

The two girls departed, Odessa’s steps thunking heavily. Lyrian continued to watch me, saying nothing more until the oaken doors closed behind them. Moth, traitorously, had scampered off after one of the flying books, which was now circling just low enough to taunt him with the trailing end of its ribbon place-marker. Cats. I could never tell if Moth was being deliberately obtuse to danger, or just knew something I didn’t.

Lyrian took three careful steps backward, putting even more space between us. “Sit,” he said, waving toward one of the plush armchairs scattered throughout the library.

I didn’t move.

He cleared his throat. “Or stand. As you wish.”

If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought he was embarrassed. Nervous even. Well, I wasn’t going to make this easier on him. I’d just seen him conjure a twist—he’d just proved himself the source of the blight. This could all be a trick. I couldn’t let down my guard.

I crossed my arms, holding my ground. “As I wish? I wish I’d never been blighted. But I am. Because of you.”

He flinched. “I suppose that’s fair. I’d apologize, but that’s not what you want, is it? You want to kill me. That’s why you were in the barrow. You were after the Withering’s Tooth. You and that other girl.”

A muffled protest came from my satchel. “Outrageous! Am I to be completely overlooked? You shall not obscure the name of

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