Page 60

Moon-white.

Briar stifled a squeak. White flowers and white snakes would not endear her to a museum curator hunting for the effects of his tracking spell on a moon charm.

Worse yet, the snake was curled around something that flashed silver, edged with pearls and crystal. Exactly where Bramble had dragged Petal into the garden.

Around a part of the moon charm.

It had clearly broken, as this looked to be the bottom cap, seed pearls dangling.

Sorcha followed her gaze and then immediately snapped it back to Aidan. “It’s Lady Sorcha, actually,” she said forcefully.

“Pardon?” Aidan asked, too taken aback by her general demeanor to notice Briar gently dragging her foot back, hiding the silver and pearls under her heel.

She kept her smile placid. The roses perfumed the air. A bee arrived to investigate. An acorn dropped on her head. “Stop that,” she murmured to them.

“I’m not miss,” Sorcha continued. “I’m Lady Sorcha. Technically.”

Aidan was surprised, as expected, but clearly too polite to remark upon it. And when she marched ahead into the orchard, he naturally followed. Sorcha was a force of nature.

She had taken him away from the white snake—and the white snails Briar had also just noticed on the gravel walk.

Away from the piece of the moon charm, which she crouched to scoop into her palm. It seared her witch knot. She slipped it into her apron just as Aidan said, quite stiffly, “After you, Lady Sorcha.”

“Keep up, Lord Coventry,” Sorcha returned, with a cackle.

Briar exchanged what could only be called a commiserating glance with the dragon on her roof.