Corvina held the raven feathers of her cape and burned a single candle without touching it. The flame bent to her will, then she snuffed it out. She could speak to beasts and bend their minds, she could conjure a mean potion and cast many spells, much like her own mother. Corvina had a darkness and a light inside her waiting to be free. She did not know of what power she had. A knock cut the silence. Her father entered before she could speak. Count Vladimir Dracula moved like the shadow he cast, cape trailing, crimson eyes bright in his pale face. He did not knock twice for anyone. "My love you should join your mother and I in the dining hall," he said. "Tomorrow you will need your strength." "For what?" Corvina asked. "A ball." He smiled, and his fangs showed. "Halloween. My favorite night. I have opened our gates to every lord and prince who dares cross the moat. You will choose one. A king to rule beside you." Corvina's stomach turned to stone. "You did not ask me." "A queen must not rule alone," he said. "The kingdom wants an heir's heir. I want you settled before I am dust." Behind him, her mother slipped through the doorway. Morgana wore her long black gown, her dark hair loose to her waist. She had taught Corvina every spell the girl knew. She looked at the candle, then at her daughter's tight jaw. "He has already sent the invitations," Morgana said softly. "By raven. To every land." "Then unsend them," Corvina said. "Even I cannot call back a hundred crows." Morgana touched her arm. "But listen to me. Marry no one you do not want. Power like ours does not need a man to hold it. Choose with your eyes open, or do not choose at all." Her father's smile thinned. He and her mother traded a long, silent look. Corvina saw the old argument in it. Corvina knew she would have to marry it was the way of kingdoms with noble houses, she just did not want to marry without being in love. Her own parents had loved each other many years before she was even born, she remembered her mother sharing the story with her. A beautiful witch in a village found by a handsome vampire lord, he saved her from a witch trial and fell in love with her. She too fell for him and they married a few weeks later and then he asked if she wanted to be a vampire and be immortal like him but she did not so she cast a spell of immortality for herself.

The next morning the guest list arrived on Corvina's writing desk. She unrolled the parchment and read a hundred strange names. Lords, princes, counts from lands she had never seen. She knew none of them. She did not know what they wanted, or which ones came to court her power instead of her heart. The names blurred together. She set the list down and went to find her mother. Morgana stood in the practice hall, sleeves pushed back. Her black raven perched on a stone ledge, watching with a sharp eye. "You look like the list frightened you," Morgana said. She did not glance up from the candle she was lighting. "I don't know these men," Corvina said. "I can't choose a stranger. I can't even read what they're planning." Morgana finally looked at her. "Then stop reading paper. Paper lies." She snapped her fingers and the candle flared. "You have my gifts. Use them. A witch does not walk blind into a room full of wolves." They practiced until noon. Corvina bent flame between her palms. She calmed her mother's raven with a whispered word and felt its small, quick thoughts. Each spell sharpened her focus. But the list still waited, and she still felt helpless before it. "There is one thing you have never done," Morgana said. She wiped soot from her fingers. "Every witch is owed a familiar. A creature bound to her, loyal to her alone. Mine sees what I cannot." The raven ruffled its feathers, as if it understood. "A familiar will be your eyes at the ball. It will watch the lords when you cannot. It is your right. It is time you claimed it." Corvina's chest tightened. "How?" "You call. You do not choose. The creature chooses you." Morgana drew a circle on the stone floor with white chalk. "Kneel inside. Speak your name. Open your mind the way you open it to beasts. Then wait." Corvina knelt. The chalk was cold under her knees. She closed her eyes and reached out, past the walls, into the dark garden beyond. "I am Corvina," she said. "Come to me." The air grew heavy. A wind moved through the hall though no window was open. Morgana's raven went still. Corvina held her breath and pushed her mind outward, calling, waiting. Something answered. A soft padding on stone. Corvina opened her eyes. A black fox stood at the edge of the circle. Its coat was dark as pitch, its eyes bright gold. It crossed the chalk line without fear and pressed its head to her hand. She felt its mind touch hers, calm and clever and sharp. "There," Morgana breathed. "It chose you." Corvina rose with the fox at her heel. She looked at the guest list again. It no longer frightened her. She had her spy now. At the ball, this small dark shadow would slip between the lords and learn every secret they hid.