‘And Oriane and Florian and your father got back from Arganthael.’
‘And your father too?’
‘Perhaps.’ Sylvaine bit her lip. ‘I did not see him, I do not know if he is there.’
‘I saw him,’ Margot replied, and described her visions to Sylvaine.
‘Both past glimpses. Nothing of the future, or the present.’
‘I shall take the bottle.’ Margot wiped the glass dry, and tucked it safe away.
She looked up to find Rozebaiel and Mistral observing her with twin expressions of bright curiosity. ‘You are going into Arganthael?’ said Rozebaiel.
‘If we can find the way,’ said Margot, crestfallen when she recalled that even these creatures of magic had not been able to spirit themselves home. And if we can find the way back again afterwards, she added to herself, for had not her father been stranded in
