Eve crossed her arms, clutching her biceps tightly. Indecision flickered in her eyes, along with a bit of fear. “I’ve got some magic I don’t quite understand. Something Fae, but I don’t have a Court, so I’ve never learned what it is.”
“A Court?” Beatrix frowned.
“Beatrix has no idea about the magical world,” said Carrow, then turned to Beatrix. “And I promise, I’ll explain it all later.”
Beatrix nodded, frowning slightly. This had to be a lot for her to take in.
Eve continued. “I knew you were following me, but you never spoke. And you never acted like much more than an overly familiar bird. So I assumed it was just some kind of Snow White affinity for animals. But since it wasn’t dangerous, I decided to ignore it. I like my life the way it is, and I know that if I poke into my Fae ancestry, I might find something I don’t like.”
“It’s not just you,” Beatrix said. “It’s Carrow, too. She’s the one who drew me the strongest. I think she’s the one who kept me from dying. I could feel her presence. Her energy. She yanked me back from the brink of death, but you were like an energy source that kept me here. So I followed you.”
Eve nodded, her eyes flickering with worry. She looked like she wanted to ask Beatrix to stop talking. Or perhaps like she would run from the room. Instead, she said, “Well, I’m pleased that I could help you.”
Beatrix grinned ruefully. “Me, too. I wasn’t ready to die.”
Carrow smiled, seeming satisfied. “Thank you, Eve. I was dying to hear what you know about this.”
“Not much, I’m afraid,” Eve said. “I don’t know anything more than that.”
“Neither do I.” Carrow looked at me. “But I think this has to do with us. I think I can use this to save you.”
I frowned, completely lost. “You’re going to need to elaborate, because I cannot see the connection.”
Carrow went to the table and picked up the small book that Seraphia had unlocked yesterday. “This book ignited something in my magic. It allowed me to bring Beatrix back from the dead.”
“But how?” None of this made any sense.
As I listened, she told a story of using the book to control her magic in a way that allowed her to help Beatrix transition from raven to human. “But what I don’t understand is how she went from dead girl to raven,” she concluded. “And how that might apply to you.”
That was a definite gap in the story. I looked at Beatrix. “Are you a supernatural?”
“They tell me that I am.” She pointed to Carrow and Mac. “But I don’t know what kind.”
I looked at Carrow. “Is her signature strong?”
“It’s thready,” she said. “Like it’s there, but struggling.”
Slowly, so as not to startle her, I approached Beatrix. “May I touch your hand? I am gifted with an excellent sense for reading magical signatures.”
“Um, sure…” Discomfort flickered across her face, but she held out her hand.
I rested mine over hers gently, feeling the faintest pulse of magic through her. It felt like a howling wind, high up in the atmosphere. Even the air that I breathed began to feel thin.
Beyond it, though…
Beyond it, I felt Carrow.
My gaze flicked to Carrow. “Did you sense your own signature on her?”
“No.” Confusion flashed on her face. “I felt a powerful wind, and the air was thin in my lungs, but there was nothing of mine.”
“But there is.” I focused more intently on Beatrix’s magic. “Deep in her soul, there is a small part of you. I can feel it. There’s no doubt that it is your magic.”
“Really?” Carrow approached.
I removed my hand from Beatrix’s and stepped back. Carrow raised her own hand. “Do you mind?”
Beatrix shook her head, and Carrow touched her shoulder. She closed her eyes and focused. Seconds passed, then a minute. Her eyes opened, and she removed her hand. “Maybe I feel it. It’s hard to say.”