The drive is only a couple of miles, but it feels like an eternity. The closer we get to the Lady, the more anxiety I feel rise in Sebastian like a tide. I squeeze his hand encouragingly. It only helps a little. But a little is better than nothing.

I doze off for a bit, and when I open my eyes, we’ve stopped in front of a hulking stone building. It is all sharp angles and lines, with no hint of softness about it.

I like it very much. As long as her powers are gone, this should hold the Lady well.

But as I step down from the carriage, my legs feel weak and wobbly, and I unconsciously tug my power back. Part of me is terrified to accidentally touch the Lady’s mind even if she is behind bars.

Jemma grips our hands and takes us into the prison after speaking to the guard outside. He appraises us with raised eyebrows. Another guard leads us down a stone hallway that feels as cold as a tomb. Little by little, I let my talent explore, touching on the minds hidden behind the doors and walls. This building contains more rage and despair than I have ever seen. And evil. It lurks around every corner. I shiver and pull my cloak close. Sebastian squeezes my hand, and I squeeze back.

The guard stops in front of a triple-locked door, and his keys jangle as he opens it. The door swings wide, but Sebastian balks when the guard gestures for us to enter. Jemma glances back and forth between the two of us, uncertain what to do.

“You don’t have to, Sebastian,” I say. His relief is palpable.

Thank you, he thinks. I duck into the room. Inside there is a narrow walkway between the wall and a row of bars keeping the prisoner secured in the tiny room. In the center, an ancient woman sits on a chair with a ratty blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

She looks nothing like the beautiful young woman who held us captive, but the shape of her mind is as sharp and cruel as ever. When I meet her milky eyes, she sits up on the edge of her seat.

“My pet?” she says. Gone is the familiar lilt to her voice. Was it magic or real? I’ll probably never know for certain. Now the edges are rough, but as commanding as ever. I can’t help but cringe, though I try to stay strong. I clasp my shaking hands together behind my back.

“I am not yours.”

She cackles, the lines on her face wrinkling deeper. “You will always be mine, Simone.”

“Is it true?” I say. I can barely find the words, and I fear if I peer too deeply into her, I may never escape.

She tilts her head. “What? Have I really lost my talent? Do you think that I choose to remain here?” The Lady scoffs, then shuffles toward the bars. I take a step back, and my fingertips meet the cold stone wall. “Well, take a peek. See for yourself.”