I backed against the wall. Other artéfacts didn’t work on me, but the mirror pulled magic from a suminaire. It seemed different somehow. Powerful. A ringing sounded in my ears and I couldn’t look away. “What are you doing with that thing?”
“I’m taking your magic for myself,” she said simply. “Then I’ll use a smidgeon to turn you, my sweet, into a pretty little bird.” She tapped her lip with a sharp nail. “I might take Issig’s magic as well. Alastair won’t be pleased, but I’ll have you to blame for everything.”
I tried to push my way out of the freezer but the door wouldn’t budge. She took a step toward me. “I know about your copper spoon,” I said.
That stopped her in her tracks. “Oh?”
“Céleste told me.”
“And how is Céleste?”
I swallowed hard. “Dead. Yrsa cracked her eye.”
“That’s for the best.”
“For the best?” I tried to control my reaction, but the woman had taken advantage of her stolen power in the worst ways, and I hated her for it. “Why are you so cruel?”
She laughed. “I’m not cruel. I’m spectacular.”
My spine drew straight at the word.
“That’s it,” I said, thinking through everything Céleste had told me. “When you first came to the society, you could only use the copper spoon. No one paid attention to you, did they?”
She flinched, and I knew I’d struck a nerve.
“You would have been surrounded by some of the most awe-inspiring suminaires there ever were.”
“I was weak then,” she said. “But not for long.”
Bel’s words came to me: You’re stronger than I thought.
He was right; I was strong. My strength was the kind of power that Des Rêves lacked, a power that had nothing to do with magic.
“Everything terrible you do is to hold on to the magic you’ve stolen, to make yourself feel spectacular. But underneath it all, you’re a horrible, weak person. Probably weaker now than when you used that copper spoon.”
Her face mottled. “Why would you ever think something like that? I’m not weak. I’m—”
As she spoke, Issig placed his hands around Madame des Rêves’s neck.
She spluttered and reached up, trying her best to remove Issig’s hands from her flesh by digging her nails into his skin. It didn’t work. Her fingers turned a grayish blue then began to shatter, along with her lips, the tip of her nose. The air smelled sour. Des Rêves’s mouth opened wide in an attempt at a scream, but only a cloud of ice dust puffed out. I choked, my hands going to my own throat while the veins in her neck bulged. Splintering.
Issig wasn’t a corpse, but Madame des Rêves was. Frozen through, her face cracked in two when she hit the floor. That terrible mirror shattered along with the rest of her. I dared a quick glance down at Des Rêves’s corpse, the pieces of her scattered about like a smashed dinner plate.
I braced myself against the wall, trying not to lose the contents of my stomach, but the cold crept through my clothes, under my skin, and I began to shake. My gorge rose and I had to look away before I gagged.
This woman had probably been alive for a hundred years or more, all because of the travesties she’d committed. Now she was gone, and I’d had a hand in it. I felt light-headed. My legs began quaking from shock. They threatened to give out, but there was nowhere to sit, no time to waste.
I had to do something, but I didn’t know what. Des Rêves was a crucial part of the plan. Forcing her to turn Issig into a bird small enough to fit in the cage was the next step. Having her turn him back once I brought him to Alastair’s office had been the other. Turning my sister back. The rest of the birds—
As much as I’d hated Des Rêves, I needed her. Everything hinged on her ability to use the talon.
Béatrice would be with Hellas now, doing their part, and expecting me to do mine. If I couldn’t manage it, I doubted I’d see anyone again, or walk out of this place alive. I shook my head as my plans unraveled around me.
Issig looked from Des Rêves’s cracked corpse to me. The room grew colder as he strained against his chains.
Think, I told myself. There had to be something else for me to try. I forced myself to look down at the corpse a second time. The silver talon lay on the floor two feet from Des Rêves’s cracked cheek.
I swayed on my feet at a sudden swell of nausea. Breathing through my nose, I slid one leg out, my foot maneuvering around the pieces of Des Rêves. Slowly, I caught the talon’s chain with my toe and dragged it toward me. I snatched it and squeezed.