Beau rolled his eyes as he shouldered open the door. The rain was coming down in sheets against the pavement. It seemed impossibly dark—?too dark. The streetlights are all out, Anouk thought, until she heard a sharp caw.
“Crows,” Beau said.
There were hundreds of them. On each awning. On every branch. Perched so thick on the streetlights that they blocked the light.
“Never mind them,” Tenpenny said. “Hop on, beasties!”
Five motorcycles stood in the driveway. Four were manned by Goblin drivers in rain slickers and galoshes, each clutching a large black umbrella identical to Tenpenny’s. Tenpenny mounted the fifth motorcycle, not letting go of his umbrella, and revved the engine with one hand.
Anouk gasped. “Wait, we forgot about the oubliette! We left it in the car . . . our pelts . . .”
The driveway was empty; no sign of the Rolls-Royce. Anouk’s thoughts were a storm. Who had the pelts? What if they were destroyed? How could they uphold the spell without them?
“No, we didn’t.” Beau ducked through the rain toward the bust of Prince Rennar and rummaged through the bushes until he extracted a few objects.
“The oubliette,” Anouk cried. “And my jacket!”
Beau grinned. “I’d never let that bag fall into the wrong hands. I stashed it in the bushes as soon as we arrived.”
Anouk pressed the Faustine jacket to her face. A ticking sound came from somewhere, and she rooted through the pockets until she found the black-cat clock. Her stomach dropped as she saw the time. Five hours until midnight.
As though he sensed time slipping away too, Tenpenny called through the rain, “Quickly now, beasties.”
Cricket leaned toward Anouk. “Are we seriously trusting Goblins?”
“Do we have a choice?”
“Maybe not,” Hunter Black growled, “but I’m driving.” He jerked his thumb at a driver, indicating that the Goblin should scoot to the passenger’s place, and climbed in front.
Cricket threw her hands up, exasperated. “I’ll take Blondie.” She climbed on behind a Goblin girl with long blond pigtails who flashed her a golden-toothed smile. Beau and Anouk helped Viggo climb onto the third motorcycle behind a boy with spiky green hair, and Beau joined a driver wearing a top hat.
“Now you, dearie. Hold on tight.” Tenpenny patted the empty place behind him. Anouk hiked up the torn hems of her maid’s costume to climb on. What exactly was she supposed to hold on to? This was even more terrifying than riding in a car for the first time. She gripped a metal bar behind the seat, searching for a place to rest her feet, when suddenly Tenpenny peeled out and she shrieked, nearly tumbling off.
“I said hold on,” he called back to her.
The tires squealed in the rain and threw up sheets of water behind them. She wrapped her arms around his middle. This was not like flying. This felt more like dying. Tenpenny accelerated down Boulevard Saint-Germain at breakneck speed, still clasping the umbrella in one hand. She dared a look behind her: five motorcycles in all—?and four umbrellas; Hunter Black scoffed at the idea of rain protection—?roaring through the stormy streets of Paris. Crows took off from every street lamp as they passed, causing each light to glow brightly, illuminating their path as though to say, Here they are, Rennar, they’re right here! The din of wings was deafening, louder even than the peals of thunder and the honks of cars as the line of motorcycles weaved through traffic. Ahead, two delivery trucks drove impossibly close together, but Tenpenny revved the engine and aimed for the narrow space between. Anouk shut her eyes. Then instantly changed her mind and opened them. The weaving motion made her even queasier when she wasn’t watching the road. She squeezed Tenpenny tighter.
“Where are you taking us?” she shouted into his ear.
“Where the crows can’t follow!” He cackled.
She pressed her forehead into his back. His suit had threads of metallic gold woven in it, and she thought of her hastily sewn maid’s uniform, practically in tatters now. Large patches of skin on her back and shoulder were visible through the seams, barely held together by garden wire. She thought briefly of Petra giving her the wire. And Mada Zola. She had thought she could be happy at the Château des Mille Fleurs. What a fool she’d been. Beau and Cricket had warned her, and yet once more she had fallen for a witch’s promises.
Never again, she vowed.
Petra, at least, had helped them. Because of her, Rennar had decided to keep them alive. She felt a stab of affection for the witch’s girl. It couldn’t have been easy to go behind her mistress’s back to share information with Rennar. Did Zola know of what she’d done? Had Petra been punished?
She looked over her shoulder again. Cricket was holding the umbrella for her Goblin driver, who was using her free hand to take a swig of something from a flask. Hunter Black brought up the tail end, weaving through the traffic just as skillfully as the Goblins. Beau caught her eye and shook his head as though to say, What in the world are we doing? Riding on the back of motorcycles,
teamed up with Viggo and Hunter Black—?and Goblins!—?with only hours left before their spell wore off.
Rain streaked down his hair, matting it to his face, and he looked scared—?terrified—?but, even more than that, determined. They were in a serious mess, yes. It was doubtful they could trust the Goblins, true. But they were alive. They’d escaped Castle Ides, eluded the most powerful members of the Haute, and they were still human. They could still feel rain on their faces, could still yell overhead at the crows, “Go se faire foutre.”
It wasn’t over yet.
And then, suddenly, she was falling forward. She gasped and clung hard to Tenpenny. The world had gone darker. The rain abruptly stopped. She was bouncing wildly, her teeth chattering in her head. Thunk-thunk-thunk-thunk-thunk. It took her a second to realize that they had plunged down the stairs into a Métro station. People shrieked and jumped out of the way as the procession of motorcycles jostled down the steep stairs. Signs flashed by her. Belvédère station. At last they reached the platform and she no longer felt like her teeth were being jostled loose, but then more screams rang out as Tenpenny roared straight through the crowd of passengers awaiting the next train. The platform ended ahead in tiled wall.
Where were they going to go?