Myrddin’s hasty scrawl rolling past: My sly and clever girl. My foolish and lovely girl. My beautiful and debauched girl. Call her by her name, Effy wanted to shout, but at no one in particular, because Myrddin was dead. The girl probably was, too. Blackmar’s daughter. Myrddin’s . . . conquest. She had been lost to the ages, just like those drowned churches.
“Myrddin was dead. The girl probably was, too.”
Why does she think this? It’s so obvious she is not, and who she actually is. This poor plot contrivance is so warn out by now it's honestly an insult to us as readers.
