In the same instant, whatever was holding me in place dissipates. Cassie drops, her feet thudding to the ground. She stalks across the final distance between us. In the moonlight and snow, her silver hair is white-blonde, and her flowing skirts hide her old woman’s shuffle. With the moon’s reflection off the snow brightening her eyes, she could be my mother’s age. She could be any age.

Foreboding trips icy fingers down my spine.

She’s not some hedge witch after all. This is a female of uncommon power.

“What do you want to give her back to me?” I lock my gaze with hers so she knows I understand what...