Capture the Crown (Gargoyle Queen #1) -Jennifer Estep Page 0,70

one that smelled of his heady honeysuckle scent.

“Here. You should take this back.”

I started to unbutton the coat, but Leonidas shook his head.

“Keep it. The palace can be quite chilly.”

We stared at each other for a heartbeat longer, then Leonidas gave me a deep, formal bow, as though I truly were a noble lady that he fancied, and not the unwanted spy that he’d foolishly brought into his palace. He straightened up, spun around, and left the chambers. He waved his hand, and the doors closed behind him.

I waited, expecting to hear the telltale click of the lock sliding home, but it never sounded. I reached out with my magic, but Leonidas’s presence grew dim and faint, then vanished. He had gone to another part of the palace.

I was surprised he hadn’t locked me in the chambers. Then again, I supposed there was no point, since I had escaped earlier. Or perhaps it was a more subtle ploy, and he thought that leaving the doors open would make me trust him. Or perhaps he knew the same hard truth I did—that a couple of locked doors weren’t nearly enough to protect me from the danger waiting around every corner here.

* * *

As much as it pained me, I took Leonidas’s advice, sat down at the vanity table, and opened the compact. A compass was nestled in one side of the silver, with a mirror embedded in the other side. The compass was just a compass, but magic poured off the mirror in steady waves. It truly was a Cardea mirror.

Some of the tight knots of tension in my stomach loosened. I still didn’t—couldn’t—trust Leonidas, but he had kept his word. About this, at least.

I reached out with my magic, but I didn’t sense anyone loitering outside my chambers. Since there were no spies around, I placed the compact on the table, making sure the side with the mirror touched the bottom of the much larger vanity-table mirror. Many Cardea mirrors were one large sheet of glass that was enchanted, and then split in two, so that the person with one half of the mirror could talk to the person with the other half. But Leonidas had said the compact would let me talk to anyone with a Cardea mirror.

Time to find out.

I closed my eyes and pictured Topacia in my mind. Her dark brown hair, the freckles dotting her nose, her cheery smile. Then I opened my eyes, leaned forward, and spoke to the compact. “Show me Topacia.”

As soon as I said her name, the compact started glowing with a bright silvery light, and waves of magic rippled out of the small round mirror and traveled up into the larger rectangular one atop the vanity table. The glass there rocked violently, as though my command was a stone that had been dropped into the mirror and upset its naturally smooth surface.

A few seconds later, the intense light in the compact mirror faded to a softer glow, the ripples of magic stopped, and the surface of the vanity-table mirror grew still again. Now, instead of my own reflection, I was staring into the cottage in Blauberg.

Topacia always insisted that we travel with a Cardea mirror so that we could contact my father if needed, and she had set up the freestanding mirror in the corner of the living room. It was the same mirror I had used to check my miner’s disguise the day this whole adventure had started.

“Topacia?” I called out. “Are you there?”

Silence. Several seconds ticked by. She must not be in the cottage—

“Gemma? Gemma! Is that you?” Footsteps pounded in the distance, the sound a bit muffled and distorted through the mirror, and Topacia lunged into view.

Several more tight knots of tension in my stomach loosened. “Yes, it’s me.”

Tears gleamed in her eyes, and Topacia put her hand over her mouth, as if to stifle a sob. Then she cleared her throat and drew back.

“Where are you? What happened? Are you injured?” Her eyebrows creased together. “And why are you wearing Mortan purple?”

I told her everything, from Conley shoving me into the chasm, to Leonidas rescuing me, to him bringing me to Myrkvior, to our bargain to get to the bottom of Milo’s plot together. By the time I finished, Topacia’s eyes were as big and round as coins.

“Are you out of your mind?” she hissed. “You can’t stay at the Mortan palace! You have to escape! As soon as possible!”

“No, I have to stay. I have to

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