Page 99 of A Treachery of Swans

“?‘Within your domain’?” I repeat, disbelieving.

She eyes me exasperatedly, looking surprisingly childish.I am the goddess of transformation, not creation nor destruction. I can turn one thing into another, but I cannot create flesh where there is none, cannot make life blossom where it is wilting.

“Wilting? You mean she’s not dead?”

Not quite. Seconds from it, to be certain—her heartbeat is very weak, but it has yet to fully stop. You humans are remarkably hardy creatures.

“But… but she’s going to die.”

Yes.

I shake my head, refusing to accept her words, refusing to lose this battle. “If you cannot do it, call your sisters. They owe me a debt as well, for I saved them from your fate, from capture by Regnault.”

Morgane looks away from me.I cannot.

“Why?”

She is silent for a moment, a troubled look tightening her regal features. Finally, reluctantly, she says,Because they do not answer my calls.

I blink. “What?”

My sisters are missing,Morgane admits.When I was captured, they fled far from Auréal, and they do not know yet that I have been freed and that they can safely return. Perhaps if you find them, they might concede and bring back this—She gestures to the girl in my arms.

“Marie.”

Marie,she amends flatly.Find them, win their approval, and theymight teach you magic stronger than mine, might give you power unfathomable. Or they might kill you. You never know with siblings.

I stare down at my hands, still clutching at Marie’s doublet, that silver costume that had made her look so ethereal. My mind reels. “But by the time I find them, Marie will be dead.”

This I can help with,Morgane says, sounding pleased at the notion.To repay my debt, as you have asked.

She crouches beside me, and it takes all my willpower not to flinch away. “What are you going to do?” I demand, covering Marie’s body with mine defensively.

Peace,Morgane scolds.I am going to preserve her. If she allows me to, of course, and if she has the willpower to survive the process.

“Will it be painful?”

Morgane regards me flatly.Do you want my help or not, little owl?

I grit my teeth but sit back reluctantly, lowering Marie to the ground with as much gentleness as I can. I roll her carefully onto her side so that the dagger in her back isn’t jostled. I want to touch her one last time, to reassure her, but before I get the chance, Morgane snatches the dagger in Marie’s back and pulls.

There comes an explosion of brilliant light, Marie’s body vanishing beneath a veil of blinding golden brightness. The light grows and grows and grows, until I am forced to close my eyes, until I am falling back, pressing my arm protectively against my face, heat searing my skin—

Then, just as quickly as it started, the light vanishes. I lie on my back, blinded and breathless, awareness returning to me slowly and then all at once. Suddenly I’m hearing Damien’s and Aimé’s panicked voices.

“By the Mothers, how did this—”

“Is she all right?”

“She’s all right, but—”

“How is this possible?”

“Odile, can you hear me?”

Nearby, I can make out the awed murmurs and gasps of the guardsmen. I blink furiously, trying to dispel the afterimages impeding my vision. Someone helps me sit up, and I groan, pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes. “Damned Mothers.”

“Odile, what happened?” Damien asks, a strangely breathy, awed note to his cadence.

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