But instead of annihilating me on a whim, her lips curved in a fond smile.

“A pretty little Harlow, come to see me!” she exclaimed, tilting her head. “Oh, what a treat. You have the look of Elias about that pointy little chin, you know, quite unmistakable; I hope you pay your respects to him when you can. Dreadful bore that the man was in life, our little Grove would still have been nothing without his hand at work.”

Talia and I exchanged puzzled looks. I had no clue what Margarita was talking about, and Talia clearly didn’t, either.

“I’ll . . . be sure to light a candle for him on Samhain, founder Avramov,” I said. When her gaze lingered on me, darkening, I hastily corrected myself. “Ah, Dread Lady, I meant.”

Mollified, she nodded once, then shifted that piercing gaze back to Talia.

“Darling Natalia, you know I run short of patience by temperament,” she said, a brittle edge to her tone. “Speak your piece, before I lose the precious little that I have.”

“The final Gauntlet obstacle awaits us,” Talia said. “And though the Blackmoore scion is . . . regrettably proficient, House Avramov has partnered with House Thorn to thwart him—and we still have a fighting chance. We were hoping for any words of wisdom from you, any advice you might be willing to share.”

“I see,” Margarita said, her eyes sparking pale yellow with new interest. “An unexpected partnership, how enterprising of you. And now you test the Gauntlet’s rules for give, trace their edges for frayed threads that you might pull to your advantage.”

“Something like that,” Talia admitted, tilting her head side to side, unabashed.

“While your initiative appeals, I’m afraid the four of us did promise not to meddle once we shuffled off this mortal coil.” She sighed, a little ruefully. “Caelia and I might have been . . . more flexible, perhaps, had it been only up to us. But Alastair and Elias, well. Always so insistent about keeping a balanced scale.”

She pursed her pale lips, looking put upon. “Bless their hearts, ever preoccupied with fairness. So terminally dull. No wonder I was the last of us to go; I shouldn’t wonder if those two perished first of the sheer frightful boredom of so much integrity.”

I almost laughed, before it occurred to me that she might mistake that for disrespect. I had just about negative interest in seeing the Dread Lady’s pissed-off face.

“But the Blackmoores have been winning for centuries . . . that’s hardly fair. And is giving your advice really meddling?” Talia pressed. “We’ve already asked the living elders for their counsel. Is it so wrong to ask the same of you?”

“You do make strong points, Natalia,” Margarita said, another flash of approval glinting green in her eyes. “Why don’t I just take a little peek—purely for my own edification, of course, as is perfectly permissible . . .”

Her big eyes went distant, then clouded over, as if rimed by a thin skin of ice. Then her eyebrows lifted, and genuine surprise flitted over her unearthly face.