When we reach the airport in London, I call Travis, who stayed the night outside Euphrasia in order to meet us when we get there.
“Did they find her?” I ask. “Was she where I said she’d be?”
“No, man. They sent two guys up there, but they said all they found was some harmless old lady.”
So Talia was wrong. I hadn’t thought of that.
“Maybe it was another hill, another cottage.”
“They’re checking every cottage on a hill, but let me tell you, it’s not a crack crime scene investigation team.”
I remember how easy it was to escape the dungeon and take Talia with me. “Guess not. They should check every cottage in the kingdom.”
When I get off the phone, Dad says, “No luck?”
“Nope.” I look at him, daring him to say it was a waste of time coming here.
But he just says, “They’re going to be boarding in a few minutes. Better get our stuff together.”
I do, and as I’m sitting on the flight from London to Brussels, I think of something: If Malvolia is a witch, she can probably disguise herself.