It was the only law she wasn’t bound by.
She remembered the first time she told Eli she was the Heir — it was years ago, on their island, when Eli was just as imprisoned as Kite. They had both been tied by bloodlines and expectations and the stories told about their bodies. They were like balloons tethered to the land by pretty ribbons.
But Eli had escaped, as Kite had always known she would.
“You could do great things,” Eli had whispered, her human sweat intoxicatingly sweet to the young witch. They had been lying close — they had always been close, then — limbs entwined, hair knotted into one tangled nest, faces pressed together so no one else could taste their secrets. “When you are the Witch Lord, you could change everything.”
“The first thing I’ll do is make you Witch Lord with me,” she whispered, nuzzling Eli’s neck. When she drew back, a line of salt crystals had glittered on Eli’s skin.
But Kite would never rule the City of Eyes. She had been made by a conqueror with a hunger for empire, a ruler who would need puppets on the new worlds she discovered and digested. If Kite was very good, she would one day be given the Earth — or what was left of it.
As Heir Rising, she was only a step away from being named the regent of Earth. If that day came, she would lead her own army through the human world, taking and twisting and playing with death. Kite wondered if her mother had intended to keep the Earth alive, but had been too greedy to stop herself from draining its life source. Maybe Kite would be promised a new planet, a new solar system, a new galaxy. But she would only ever be a vessel for her mother’s power. She was also an extra body, another shell for the same essence, and she knew that if she caused any trouble the Witch Lord would take that body for her own and create a more obedient child.
She was an extension of the Witch Lord’s power, not a threat to it.
But other threats had bloomed in the shadow of the Coven, and now the Heart of the world had been stolen. The Witch Lord was weak, and Eli was no longer within reach of the Coven.
Kite pressed a damp hand against the wall. Ink bled from her palm to the stone as she asked the ancient structure for passage. The stone shuddered, and then tore itself open. Fossilized pages pressed into shale marked Kite’s journey from the invisible passage in the library to the Labyrinth.
When she emerged from the passageway, she was pleased to see that she had ended up exactly where she wanted to be. Desire and wishes were powerful in the City of Eyes. Especially the wishes of children.
“Oooh, the Heir, come to grace us with her presence.” Clytemnestra sat on a miniature throne made from popsicle sticks and glitter. She lowered her chin and peered up at Kite through long, fluttering lashes. “To what do We owe the honour?”
“I know what you’re doing,” said Kite. “I want to help.”
Five
TAV
It made sense to start here.
This was the place that had first taken them between worlds. This small seam, the one the Hedge-Witch had made years ago. So here they were at 5:00 a.m. in a back alley, eyes crusted from sleep. The first cut. The first healing.
Hopefully.
Tav’s body felt itchy, and they could sense how easy it would be to clear their mind, reach out, and nudge the tear open.
It was a dangerous impulse. Taking all three of them back to the City of Eyes could be deadly.
“Do you have it?” Eli had been waiting for them. Tav didn’t want to admit how much of a relief it had been to see her in the flesh. They couldn’t do this without her.
Tav nodded, holding up the potted plant. “It was a gift from the Hedge-Witch, so it should work.” They hesitated, and then added, “I think she would help us.”
Eli frowned. “She wants the Heart, Tav. She wants power. I don’t trust her.”
“She taught me everything I know about magic,” Tav said quietly.
“She’s a witch.”
“So?”
“So she won’t help us without a bargain. And negotiating with witches is dangerous.”
Tav snorted. “I know how you negotiate. Knives out, right?”
Eli shrugged. “Gets the job done.”
Tav shook their head. “We need —”
“No, we don’t,” Eli interrupted, her eyes flashing.
“You disappeared —”
“Not on purpose!”
Tav’s knuckles tightened. “So learn —”
“That’s enough,” said Cam wearily. He hadn’t been sleeping. Tav heard him tossing and turning each night, talking to himself. They wondered what would happen when the glamour Clytemnestra had cast started to wear off.
“Can you two stop?” he asked. “Let’s get this over with.”
Eli flicked her magical eyes into place and stared at Cam for a long moment.
“Is that a yes?” he said, attempting a smile. “It’s rude to stare, you know. I know it’s hard to remember, the less human you become.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Eli kept staring.
Tav knew what she was seeing, because they had seen it, too. The magic in Cam’s body was changing. It used to slide along the surface of his skin like a coat. Now it was deeper, as if merging with his very cells. Eli wasn’t the only one who was becoming less human.
“He’s right,” said Tav. “We may as well try this. It’s small, so it should be easier.”
Eli rolled both sets of eyes. “It’s always about size with you humans. I thought Clytemnestra taught you something about that.”
“Is ‘human’ an insult now?” Tav arched an eyebrow. “Good thing we’re all hybrids, I guess.” They tried to keep the bitterness out of their voice and failed.
“It won’t be easy,”
