Free Queen Rising by Danielle Paige Page B

one day you will.”
    Margot looked at her mother for a long beat and then spit in her face.
    Her mother wiped it away with a laugh and turned away. It was the last time Margot ever saw her.

2
    â€œIf you like, I can turn those coins I gave her into leaves,” the witch said gently.
    Margot felt a question rise in her throat.
How many coins had the witch traded for her? How many for Go?
Could the witch use her powers to show her the contents of her mother’s purse? It had been empty when they arrived at the palace. A part of her needed to know her price and that of Go’s. Somehow seeing the coins—knowing the exact number—suddenly felt necessary. If she knew the number, she could let go of her mother forever.
    â€œLet her have them,” Margot said instead. Looking at her smiling mother weighing the purse in one hand and then the other was enough. She realized she had let go of her long ago.
    â€œI am Cassia, Witch of the Woods,” the witch said as she took a step toward the edge of the forest.
    Margot fell in step with her. Her head filled with thoughts of what it meant to go home with a witch, thoughts culled mainly from fairy tales.
Would she be dinner? A servant? What on earth did the witch want her for? Was the person who bought children really any worse than the mother who sold them, especially if the person was a witch?
    They stopped walking near the edge of the water and made a sharp turn along the bank of the river. Margot looked up and saw what looked like a castle made entirely of trees. But the trees were still alive.
    â€œWelcome to the Hollow,” the Witch of the Woods said.
    She touched the tree nearest them and it opened up. A flight of stairs spiraled down into the dark, but there was light radiating at the very bottom.
    When Margot took a step forward, ready to see more, Cassia held her back with one of her branches.
    â€œWhen I gave your mother those coins, I was not buying you. I was buying your freedom. You are your own Margot now. Your mother was not completely wrong. We make no promises. There is no bind that cannot break. There is no promise that will hold forever. I am not your mother or your family. I am your witch, if you choose to have me.”
    Margot blinked hard, not sure what it meant to have her own witch.
    â€œYou may stay here. But it is not forever. Do you understand?”
    Margot nodded and took her first step into the tree.

3
    At the bottom of the stairs, a second witch stood in the center of a room next to what looked like a stone hearth. Or at least Margot thought she was a witch. It was her dress and her eyes that gave her away. The dress was in tatters and on closer inspection, it looked as if the gray fabric were scorched in places. Her eyes flashed at Margot, eyes as black as coal but with a rim of gold behind them. They looked like mini-eclipses. The rest of her face was unremarkable in comparison; her nose was sharp and her lips were thin and pursed.
    But Margot could not stop looking at those eyes.
    â€œAnother one,” the second witch said disdainfully.
    â€œThis is Margot,” the Witch of the Woods asserted. “Margot, this is Scoria, the Fire Witch.”
    Scoria opened her mouth and a flame came out of it, reaching in Margot’s direction. Margot jumped behind the Witch of the Woods for cover, only to see that the flames stopped short of reaching her. Instead they lit the hearth in the room’s center.
    Margot looked from the fire pit to the Fire Witch. Flames dotted the tips of Scoria’s eyelashes and her flesh glowed red through the scorched places in her dress. The dress’s hem was edged with fire. Scoria, perhaps seeing the horror that played on Margot’s face, looked down at herself and stamped the flames out. Her lashes extinguished themselves in a single blink.
    â€œDid you get this one from the cemetery? She looks half-starved,” the Fire Witch said, picking up the conversation with