The Glass Queen (The Forest of Good and Evil #2) - Gena Showalter Page 0,15

if reaching into thin air for her magic. “If you knew who I was, you’d know what I’m capable of, and you’d be halfway home by now.”

He popped his jaw, emitting a frisson of fear.

The witch smirked. “I was sent by Ashleigh’s father, King Philipp. He expects me to collect his daughter and return her to the palace in one piece. If I have to sew her back together, I’m going to use parts of you to do it.”

Wait. “You were, and he does?” Ophelia wasn’t just any witch, then; she was a royal one I’d never met. Sent by my father. Who wanted me home. Me. Home! The knowledge dawned like a new day inside me, teeming with possibilities.

“I just said so, didn’t I?” she replied, exasperated.

“You can’t come here and—” Trio began.

She waved her hand, and he went silent, even though his mouth continued to move. “Are you sure about that?”

As he frantically clutched his throat, I staggered to my feet, the muscles in my lower back protesting the action. Ignoring the pain wasn’t difficult when I got to enjoy Trio’s defeat.

“I think I’ve made my point.” Another wave of the witch’s hand.

Trio burst out “—strike at me is to strike at all avian. You will get out of my way, witch, or you will suffer for it.”

“But you’re just too dumb to understand it,” she added. “What do you think you can do to me, hmm?” A challenge layered every word. “Please. Tell me. I’m metaphorically dying to know.”

His scowl intensified, but he dropped the rock.

Ohhh. I liked this girl. “I’m honored to make your acquaintance,” I whispered, only to realize I didn’t need to lower my volume. “Nice to make your acquaintance,” I repeated at the same volume she had used, and oh, wow, my vocal cords loved the vibration.

“I know. Everyone is. Here, you’re supposed to read this.” She reached back to hand me an envelope sealed with Fleur’s official symbol—two roses framed by a shining sun.

My heart leaped. The rose had been my mother’s favorite bloom. The very reason I’d made it my signature. No matter what weapon I designed, I found a way to incorporate the flower in some capacity.

As Ophelia and Trio exchanged more taunts, I broke the wax, curious about what my father had to say.

The paper read, “You will come home without delay.”

Without delay. Because he’d forgiven me? Grinning, I hugged the paper to my chest and twirled.

I’d thought about my father often, dreaming of going home and proving myself worthy of his affections. I’d had no contact with him since my banishment, but the little girl I used to be, the one who still lived inside me, wanted a relationship with him, approval, something.

Whoosh. Whoosh. The hated sound jolted me from my celebration. I looked up, expecting Trio to be on the attack. Instead, he was flying away from us.

I really liked this witch.

“Come,” Ophelia said, pivoting on a booted heel. “We must leave now. He grows impatient.”

My father? “I can’t leave without my designs and my eggs.”

“Is this amateur hour? Of course you can’t.” Ophelia waved her hand toward me, and a small satchel materialized, the strap draped across my chest. “That’s why they’re already in your possession.”

“Impossible. The satchel is so small—” I stuck in a hand and gaped as I was able to put in my arm to the shoulder. A magic satchel, with more room than it appeared to have. I rooted through the contents and, sure enough, there was a stack of my designs, all four dragon eggs that were double the size of an ostrich egg and a handful of books. With my mother’s ring secured around my neck, I had everything I needed to start a new life. Now I smiled at the witch. “You’re right. Thank you.”

“I don’t need thanks. I just need action.” She motioned behind me. “Let’s go.”

Yes. Let’s. No reason to say goodbye to the dryads. I doubted they cared. And how sad was that? I’d known them for three whole years, and I’d never won them over. I couldn’t think of one who would miss me. “Are we going to walk?” I asked as I turned. I hadn’t noticed a mode of conveyance. Well. I hadn’t. Now a pumpkin-shaped unicorn-drawn carriage awaited me.

“Get in, Princess,” Ophelia said, suddenly directly behind me, her warm breath on the back of my neck. “Just so you know, I could have whisked you to the palace in seconds. I’m that powerful.