“Katie—” Quentin said helplessly, and reached for her again. This time she screamed. It ended in a high-pitched, inhuman whinny. Things were changing inside her as well as out.

“Quentin, move away from her,” I said.

“But—”

“Look at her. You need to move away.” Katie looked toward me and cringed, falling silent. She’d already learned the value of obedience. I guess terror is a good teacher.

Quentin rose and walked back to me, shivering. “What’s wrong with her?” he asked.

“Besides the obvious?” I gestured toward my ears, then his. “We’re what’s wrong with her. She’s already confused, and she thinks you’re human. Right now, you look like another part of this nightmare.”

“I—” he began, and stopped, staring at me. “Oh, root and branch.” He looked back to Katie, who was trying to vanish into her corner. “She thinks I’m one of them.”

“Yes, she does,” I said, gently. “You can’t go to her. She won’t let you.”

“But . . .”

I put a hand on his shoulder. “Let me do this?”

Quentin bit his lip, nodding. I could see how much the gesture had cost him.

The scratches on my hand were still bleeding, and that was a good thing; blood always makes things easier for me when there’s magic involved. I walked over and knelt in front of Katie, holding my candle between us. “Hello,” I said. She whimpered. I ignored it, continuing, “My name’s Toby. I want to take you home. Do you want to go home?” She burrowed farther into the corner, flattening her ears. She wasn’t going to believe a word I said, and that was fine; it just meant I’d have to work without her permission. With fresh-drawn blood on my hands, the lack of permission wouldn’t stop me.

“ ‘If we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended,’”I said. The smell of copper and cut grass rose around us, damped down and made small by the alien nature of Blind Michael’s lands. “ ‘That you have but slumbered here while these visions did appear . . .’ ” The spell wasn’t taking hold. I needed more blood; I wasn’t strong enough to catch her without it. I’ve never been strong enough to work without the blood.

I raised my wounded hand to my mouth and sucked at the deepest of the scratches. The blood was hot and bitter. “ ‘And this weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream.’ ” The smell of copper burst around us, leaving me with a pounding headache. Magic takes strength, and I was running out.

Katie’s face went slack as the spell took hold. I shook my head to clear it and said, “Katie, you don’t feel well. You have an upset stomach, and you want to go home. You don’t see anything strange, you just feel a little sick. Your boyfriend is going to walk you home. Do you understand?” She nodded, expression unchanging. I patted her hand, and she didn’t pull away. “Good. Quentin will be here in a moment.” She nodded again and smiled, settling in to wait. She’d wait until Quentin came or the spell ran out, whichever came first. As long as nothing broke my illusions, she’d be fine, but any major shock could jolt her back into the present. I needed to keep her away from mirrors and away from Blind Michael.

I stood, breathing unevenly. “Quentin, hurry. You need to get her out of here.”

“Are you all right?”

“It’s just a little magic burn. I’ll be fine. Now hurry.” He nodded and walked back over to Katie, kneeling in the straw. “Kates? You okay?”

She smiled. The spell was working; thank Maeve for that. “Hi, Quentin. I’ve been waiting. Are you gonna take me home now?”

“Yeah,” he said, and smiled back. I don’t think she could see his tears through the illusions clouding her eyes. “I’ll take you home. Are you ready to go?”

“Oh, yeah. I just don’t feel good.” She stumbled as she stood, and Quentin caught her. The tail was throwing her off-balance. Katie frowned. “I think I need to lie down.”

“It’s okay,” he said, leading her toward the exit. “I’ll get you home.”

I followed as fast as I could, trying to pretend that it didn’t hurt to leave the other locked doors behind. There were more children behind those doors, changing into something they didn’t understand, and I couldn’t save them. That much magic wouldn’t just hurt me; it might kill me, and then what would my children do? Blind Michael was going to pay for everything he’d done, but most of all, he was going to pay for making me walk away and leave those children behind. I’d come back for them if I could, but my kids needed me first. And it wasn’t fair. Life so rarely is.

Just once, I’d like to find a real hero, someone who can save the day, because I’m obviously not cut out for the job. I followed Quentin and Katie out of the stable, half blinded by pain and anger, and once we were safely hidden by the shadows of the plains, I let myself cry. I’d have to stop before we reached the forest—the kids needed me to look strong—but for the moment, it helped.

Where the hell’s my hero?

SIXTEEN

JESSICA CAME RACING OUT OF THE TREES as we approached, already sobbing. She slammed into me and buried her face against my shoulder. I managed to brace myself enough to absorb the impact without falling over, but it was a close thing; we were too similar in size for that kind of collision to be comfortable. “Aunt Birdie!” she wailed, voice muffled. “I thought you weren’t c-coming back!”

I sighed, letting go of Quentin’s hand and stroking her hair. “I’ve been getting that a lot lately.” Spike came slinking out of the woods and sat by my feet, thorns bristling as it whined in the back of its throat. I understood the warning it was giving us; we couldn’t afford to dawdle. Blind Michael promised safety once we were out of his lands—or at least he’d promised safety for the kids I’d bargained for, and I didn’t want to consider what that might mean for the rest—but he’d never said anything about leaving us alone inside his borders.

“Are you back for keeps? Can we go home now?”

“I’m back.” I looked over Jessica’s head to watch Quentin guide Katie the last few yards.

Katie had fallen into brittle silence as we walked, using Quentin as much for guidance as for balance. The spell clouding her vision could only take so much abuse, and she could keep it alive longer if she refused to see what was going on. Smart girl. I wondered numbly whether Quentin realized she’d lost a shoe, and whether, if he did, he realized that it was because her feet were already broad and blackened, more than halfway to being hooves. The changes were continuing. They were slow, but they weren’t stopping.