His black-and-silver cloak swept back from his shoulders, and that mask with its silver veins and mirror eyes gleamed against his clear brown skin, covering the face I knew was so badly scarred. At the sight of Uncle Shake, Papa’s whole self shifted. His arm tightened to pin my hand close to his side, and his magic closed around mine. But the touch of that magic had changed. Before, it had surrounded me with strength and protection. Now there was just a kind of slick softness. The Seelie king, from inside Ivy, took Shake’s hand in both of hers and smiled up at him, putting all Ivy’s little-girl charm into the expression. I wanted to scream. I wanted to smack that pretty little face, with magic and bare hands. I wanted to smack it hard enough to knock the Seelie king right out of his dead daughter’s skin. He’d set her up to die. He’d made me shoot her down. Now he dragged her body out of the grave to stand here and smile for him. There was not enough anger in any world for this.
