She's magic, Cassandra. A single flower blooming in an endless desert.

*I don't want the body,* she whimpered. *It hurts.**Not always, sweetheart. Not always. Without the body, how will you hear a bird's song? How will you feel a warm summer rain on your skin? How will you taste nutcakes? How will you walk on a beach at sunset and feel the sand and surf under your... hooves?*

Why?"He stopped pacing and looked at her as if she'd just asked him to count every leaf on every tree in the Old Place. "Because... you're you.

Have you taught her to kill, Priest? Can you teach her such a thing? She's so wise in her innocence, so innocent in her wisdom.

You're not going to answer, are you?" Jaenelle asked after a minute of teeth-grinding silence."No.""Don't you know the answer?""Whether I know the answer or not is beside the point. It's not something a man discusses with a young girl.""But you know the answer."Daemon growled.

In the gray world above, I hear myself howling with laughter. Far below me, in the psychic abyss that is part of the Darkness, I hear another howling, one full of joy and pain, rage and celebration.Not just another witch is coming, my foolish Sisters, but Witch.

Frustration fills his golden eyes. "What Queen? Who is coming?""The living myth," I whisper. "Dreams made flesh."His shock is replaced instantly by a fierce hunger. "You're sure?"The room is a swirling mist. He's the only thing still in sharp focus. He's the only thing I need. "I saw her in the tangled web, Daemon. I saw her.

W-what are you?"Selena looked down at her rival. "What you should have been and never were. The Queen of the Witches.

I am Tersa the Weaver, Tersa the Liar, Tersa the Fool.