A Witch Alone (The Winter Witch Trilogy #3) Read Online Free PDF Page B

reinstate them and we’ve agreed to adjourn the meeting until they’re fully operational. I think the only thing to do is seize the opportunity to take some supper. We’ll dine in my office please, Miss Vane.’
     
    My grandmother sank into an armchair in front of the fire and passed a weary hand over her face. She looked several hundred years older than this morning. Then with a sudden, angry movement she picked up the briefing notes from the table in front of her and threw them savagely into the grate, her face stern in the flickering firelight as they blazed up.
    ‘Damn Corax,’ she said at last. ‘He had the meeting by the throat. Doesn’t he care there’s a spy in our midst? I know the leaks are coming from within his camp, I know it.’
    ‘Grandmother …’ I stopped and then, screwing up my courage, I carried on. ‘What did you want Knyvet to say – before the explosion?’
    ‘I don’t know, child.’ She passed a weary hand over her face, her rings glittering in the candlelight. ‘But there is a spy – and that spy is acting for someone. The best-case scenario is that they are acting for one of the other Chairs.’
    ‘And – the worst?’
    ‘They are acting for another country.’
    ‘Another country ?’
    ‘Yes. Did you think we were the only ones of our kind in the world? Our people exist in every corner of the globe, from the poles to the equator. And wherever our kind gather, we love order and ritual and hierarchy. And feuds. Other countries have their councils: Les Viseurs. El Circulo. The Nodus. The Sistren … Some are very like the Ealdwitan, as old or even older. Some are very different. The lust for power, the search for knowledge – those forces are the same, wherever they arise. But the methods …’ She stopped and then said, with a harshness in her voice that sounded almost like pain, ‘Anna, I know you have experienced the worst of the Ealdwitan. But we are not the worst of all. Good God no, we are not the worst. The others—’
    She broke off, at the sound of a knock at the door.
    ‘Come in, Miss Vane.’
    ‘It’s not Miss Vane,’ said a voice – a male voice, low and amused. The door opened and the visitor walked into the room. My heart did a horrible flip, like missing a step on the escalator and I scrambled to my feet, ready to flee.
    Something flickered in his eyes, but his face remained a polite mask as he turned to my grandmother.
    ‘I’m sorry to interrupt, Chair Rokewood, but I wondered if I might have a quick word.’
    ‘Of course, Marcus. Have you met my granddaughter, Anna? Anna, this is Marcus Corax.’
    ‘We’ve met,’ he said. Something tugged at the corner of his mouth.
    ‘Really?’ My grandmother looked surprised. ‘How?’
    ‘Oh, on Anna’s last visit here. I was able to assist her with some directions.’
    I remembered my naked desperation, running for my life to get out of the mazelike corridors. Marcus had shown me a way out.
    ‘And more recently,’ he continued, ‘didn’t we bump into each other at reception?’
    ‘I – I’m not sure,’ I said. My heart was still thumping and I gave him a sharp look – was he laughing at me? The thought made me angry and stiffened my nerve. ‘But thank you for the directions last time.’ Somehow I kept my voice steady. ‘I never had a chance to say.’
    ‘No need for thanks.’ He held out his hand. I hesitated for a moment and then I put mine in his. Who was he? Why had he saved me, twice? His hand was strong and immaculately manicured. But as we shook, something in my grandmother’s introduction scratched at me like a snagged nail. Marcus Corax. Corax?
    He was already speaking to my grandmother.
    ‘I wanted to apologize. For my father. You’re right and he’s wrong – I don’t know why he refuses to see it.’
    ‘Because he doesn’t want to admit I’m right? Because revoking all security passes will be costly, disruptive and extremely political? Or because he is protecting the