'An existence capable of standing shoulder to shoulder with Margaret, the Enchanting Witch, part of the "we" she mentioned, with both the ability and the motive to participate in and exploit such a grand plan…'
"Othilia…"
Murphy murmured the name, his voice instantly swallowed by the howling mountain wind.
In the dark of night, his eyes were as sharp as a sword about to be drawn.
The girl from thirty-seven years ago, the Mechanical Witch who had first threatened his life… her shadow seemed to faintly overlap with Margaret's disappearance and the sudden shift in the Continent's balance of power.
'If my speculation is correct, then Margaret's decade of "no contact" was, in itself, a cover-up of the highest order.'
'Their connection is perhaps far deeper, more secret, and more… dangerous than anyone could imagine.'
The mountain wind howled, and Murphy accelerated again, transforming into a streak of light that shot toward the darkness of the South at an even greater speed.
