Little Beau, at her feet, rested his chin on her knee. She set her hands on the dog’s head to keep them from shaking. “I’m no stranger to nightmares. Besides, I won’t be alone. I’ll take Little Beau with me.”
Viggo scoffed. “A dog won’t save you from the dangers in Bavaria.”
“I think you’re underestimating dogs.”
Outside, the last of the autumn leaves blew against the windows. Winter would be here soon. She stood up and peered out the window. A group of young Pretties stood at the corner, heads bowed over devices that cast an eerie electric glow over their faces. Drones whirred above them. Rennar was right; technology was spreading faster. If they didn’t do something to curb it, would magic disappear before she’d even had a chance to master it? With no magic, would the whole Haute vanish? And the beasties?
Cities falling one by one
White to Red
White to Red . . .
A cold nose pressed against her and she felt her tension melt away. She turned from the window and knelt down so she could gaze into Little Beau’s face. “Beau, are you in there?” she whispered.
Little Beau cocked his head and looked as though he might miraculously answer, but then he only scratched an itch on his side with his back leg.
Anouk sighed.
Viggo folded his arms testily across his chest. “If you and that dog have finished your heart-to-heart, do you mind sharing your decision?”
She hesitated.
“Tell me you aren’t going to go through with a deal with that imbécile, Anouk.”
“Um . . .”
“Tell me you aren’t complètement fou.”
“Well . . .”
He groaned toward the ceiling and muttered a curse that would have made even a witch blush. “You’re going to get yourself killed and leave me alone with the Goblins.”
* * *
That evening Anouk took a step back to examine the supplies she’d gathered on the bed. The maps. A hooded fur coat. A knife from the kitchen. Some hard cheese and sausage the Goblins hadn’t yet discovered. Most of it went into the pockets of her Faustine jacket. Once she was a witch, she would enchant the pockets to serve as her oubliette—?her magic bag—?but for now, they were simply pockets, and they bulged with the bulk of everything.
“You are going to say goodbye, aren’t you?” Viggo asked from behind her.
She turned. “To the Goblins? No, they say that goodbyes are bad luck. To you?” She smiled. “Of course.”
Viggo returned a half smile. Although they had lived in the same house and considered the same woman a mother, they’d never been friends. In a million years, she’d never imagined that she’d find a new sort of family with Viggo, and yet here they were. Her heart tightened. “You’ll look out for them?” she said, nodding toward the Goblins’ rock music coming from downstairs. “They’ll need someone at Castle Ides to keep them safe.”
“I should think I can babysit some Goblins. At least until you return.” He paused. “You are coming back.”
“I’m coming back,” she promised.
She wrapped her arms around him. His knit hat scratched her skin, but she didn’t mind. Viggo would always be like that hat of his—?a little irritating, a little silly, but also a little endearing.
He gave her a curt but warm hug in return. “Watch out for the other girls at the Cottage. It isn’t a tra-la-la kind of place. Are you certain you can find it?”
She dug around in her pocket and eventually produced a small piece of carved antler with a broken tip. “I have this. It’s a piece of a clock that’s imbued with magic. Duke Karolinge gave this portion of it to Mada Vittora, who kept it hidden in a dresser drawer. I found it once while putting away her laundry. It’s made of antler from elk in the Black Forest, and the rest of the clock is still there, in the Cottage. If Beau is any good at being a dog, he’ll be able to track its scent back to the rest of the clock—?to the Cottage.”
She slipped the piece of antler in her jacket pocket, next to Rennar’s mirror, which brushed against her fingers like ice.
“Good luck, Dust Bunny,” Viggo said.
“Stay alive, okay?” she answered. “And try not to do anything stupid.”