But this was Katrien—truly Katrien, right in front of her. And she didn’t have the strength to turn away.
“Katrien,” she whispered.
Katrien sat bolt upright, then spun around. “Elisabeth!” she exclaimed, rushing to the dresser, her face filling the mirror. “What’s happening? Are you a prisoner?” She paused to take in Elisabeth’s surroundings. “Where are you?”
“I have so much to tell you. Wait! Don’t go!”
“I’m not going anywhere! But, Elisabeth, you’re fading—you’ve gone transparent—”
The frost was creeping back in. She breathed on the mirror again, but it was no use. This time, the frost didn’t recede. As she scrambled for a solution, a different idea occurred to her. In the Great Library, Katrien had access to resources that Elisabeth did not.
“I need your help,” she said into the rapidly diminishing circle. “I don’t have time to explain, but it’s important.”
“Anything,” Katrien said grimly.
“There’s a grimoire called the Codex Daemonicus. I think it’s a Class Five or Six. I need to find out where I can locate a copy—”
The last section of frost crystallized into place, and the mirror’s surface turned milky white. Elisabeth had no way of knowing whether Katrien had heard her. She sat back, squeezing her eyes shut against frustrated tears.
She kept the mirror close for the rest of the day, hidden beneath the armchair’s cushions, checking it periodically. But its magic seemed to have been exhausted. It showed her nothing, only a blank white oval. She lay awake in bed that night, watching a strip of moonlight travel across the ceiling, wondering what to do. The mirror sat on the covers beside her, its icy chill raising goose bumps on her bare arms. Katrien at once seemed close enough to touch and farther away than ever before.
Perhaps I should go to Nathaniel, she thought. He’ll know if there’s a way to restore its magic.
She dismissed the idea at once. Nathaniel seemed willing to tolerate her efforts to expose Ashcroft, but only under the condition that she didn’t involve him in any way. He might take the mirror from her, especially if it turned out to be dangerous, or if he feared that she would break it. Better to wait and see if the magic returned on its own.
Nathaniel . . . she still didn’t understand him. He wasn’t being unkind to her, but he obviously didn’t welcome her presence, either. Her arrival had disturbed him for some reason—his argument with Silas had made that clear enough. They never shared meals together, and he only spoke to her when absolutely necessary. When they weren’t in his study, he avoided her completely.
Perhaps he didn’t want to encourage her. He might not be interested in women, as the ladies had suggested during the dinner at Ashcroft Manor, or he could be like Katrien, who possessed no interest in romantic matters whatsoever. Either might explain why he’d never courted. But she hadn’t mistaken the way his eyes had darkened the other morning, or the tension that had suffused the air between them.
She flipped over beneath the covers, restless. She imagined padding down the hallway in her nightgown and knocking on Nathaniel’s bedroom door. She pictured him answering in the dark, his hair tousled with sleep, his nightshirt unlaced down the front. When she finally drifted off to sleep, it was to the memory of how soft his hair had felt in Summershall, and the callused brush of his fingers when he’d touched her hand.
• • •
When she awoke the next morning, the first thing she did was sit up and seize the mirror, her hair falling around it in a tangled curtain. The magic was back. Images moved beneath the frost again. But before she could invoke Katrien, a knock came on the door. She shoved the mirror beneath the blankets, holding her breath.
Silas slipped inside with breakfast. His yellow eyes traced over her, but if he sensed anything amiss, he said nothing. Elisabeth thanked him hurriedly as he brought the tray over, and upon realizing that her thank-you had sounded rather peculiar, seized a pastry and stuffed it whole into her mouth. Nothing about this performance seemed to surprise him, as he bowed and departed without comment. She waited several long moments after he had gone, certain that his senses were far keener than a human’s. Then she scrambled to retrieve the mirror, ignoring the bite of its frozen metal.
“Show me Katrien,” she commanded, and breathed against the glass.
The mirror swirled. Katrien was sprawled facedown on her bed, partially