Page 114 of Traitor Witch
I move through the hold, checking the words stamped in ink into the tops. Each one is strapped in, meticulously well ordered and carefully secured.
I still can't understand how Val's office can be such a statewhen the rest of the ship looks like this. The man is a walking contradiction.
I have to resist the section devoted to fae liquor. It's so strong that I can smell it through the wood. The sweet, spicy scent not quite like anything else in the world.
So tempting.
They've been holding out on me. Maybe I'll liberate a few of these to the galley before...
Before I leave in a few hours.
Goddess, that thought shouldn't make me as sad as it does.
I shrug it off. Shove my attachment to them deep and shut the door on it.
Tomorrow, I have to prepare myself to do what I've been accused of all along. Confront a high priestess. I shouldn't be moping about pirates.
I have a duty to my Goddess. To myself.
I have to clear my name.
And then what? Go back to Coveton?
How naïve is it to believe they'll all just welcome me back with open arms?
I shouldn't think about the future when I've still got to survive the next few hours.
It feels like I've walked the full length of the ship before I come across the first barrel marked E.G.
But it's not just inked like the others.
It's wrapped in ropes, sealed together with wax bearing an instantly familiar seal.
"The Eagle of Galmere," I whisper. "What in moonlight's name are they doing with the human queen's cargo?"
I search for a crack, a way to figure out what's inside. But it's sealed shut.
There's no way for me to snoop without giving away that someone has tampered with it.
If I alter the barrel with magic, it will leave traces of my magic. Just like the ones the Coveton witches used to trace my scrying on Danika. It will be easy for a witch who knows what she's doing to track me down.
I can try purifying myself when I leave theDeadwood, but there's always a chance that I'll miss something.
Is knowing what's inside worth that risk?
I bite my lip.
Klaus seems adamant that whatever is in these barrels is important.
Just remembering his face when he learned I was on board theDeadwoodhas me inching closer.
I have to know. I may never get another chance.
I pull magic from the Moon, using it to warp the stopper in the barrel closest to me. Shrinking it just enough so that it pops open.
Glittery powder falls out. The sparkles instantly recognisable.
Fae dust.
