“I came with Rennar from Paris.”
“But you were—”
“A mouse? Don’t remind me. He changed me back six weeks ago. I’ve been at Castle Ides with Viggo and the Goblins, keeping them company. Yesterday, Rennar handed me these pretty clothes and said we were taking a trip to the Black Forest. You can imagine my surprise. Which was even greater when he explained he’d made a deal with you and that my humanity was the prize.”
Anouk shook her head, confused. “But I saw you just this morning in an enchanted mirror. You were still a mouse in a cage.”
“Ah. What you saw was a different mouse, not me. Rennar changed me right away, but it seems the cat and the wolf had gotten used to having a mouse caged next to them. It kept them from wanting to kill each other. So Rennar had the idea of putting a regular mouse in the cage to distract them.”
Anouk groaned. “He might have bothered to send me a message. I spent weeks thinking he’d backed out of our deal, thinking you were still trapped!”
Luc rested his hands on her shoulders. “It’s okay. I’m me. And I’ve missed you, Dust Bunny. I came down here as soon as I could slip away from the Royals because I knew that wherever Beau was, you’d be nearby. Anouk, you can’t seriously be considering undergoing the Coal Baths.”
She lifted her chin. “I’m here, aren’t I? Of course I’m serious.”
He muttered something under his breath. “You must have hit your head. You can’t trust the prince.”
She dropped her voice. “He claims he’s tired of ruling. He’s agreed to give up his power and put it in the hands of the other orders, even to let the Pretties make some of their own decisions.”
Luc gave her an odd look.
“Look, I don’t trust him either, but we’re facing the same threat, and in a sense that makes us allies. Have you heard what’s happening in London?”
Luc’s face turned grave. “Yes. It’s all the talk in Paris. As soon as Rennar turned me human, I heard it on the lips of every lesser Royal. It’s all over the scryboard wires too. Double moons. Black rainbows. Apparently, when it first happened, the Pretties in London panicked. The witches cast a spell to convince them it was only an optical illusion caused by low-lying pollution. Still, the Haute is worried. There’s never been anything like this before.”
“That’s just it,” Anouk insisted, “there has been. I found something here in the Cottage library. The books are old, but the few pages I could salvage made reference to plagues that aren’t so different from the ones happening now. Gray rainbows instead of black ones. Three moons in the sky instead of two. Rainstorms of worms instead of toads. All of this happened five hundred years ago, across all of Europe, from Dublin to Prague. These plagues occur whenever the balance between technology and magic is upset. It’s referred to as the Noirceur, or the Darktime. Someone must have erased it from all the modern Royal records, but whoever it was overlooked the Cottage library. And the Duke has more books in his private collection, but I’m not allowed in.”
“You’ve broken into locked libraries before. Why don’t you use a whisper?”
She haltingly explained to him what had happened with her arrival and Saint’s bell. Luc’s face turned very grim. “Anouk, you’ve been here this whole time without your magic?”
She nodded reluctantly, then thrust a hand in her fresh apron and pulled out the bell. She smiled. “A few days ago, I stole it back. I’m going to carry it into the flames with me.”
“That’s your crux? Are you sure? The odds of survival are one out of—”
“I know.” Her fingers closed over the bell as her smile disappeared. “Alors, don’t remind me.”
The bell, her crux, would keep her alive, but she didn’t want to think about what that meant for the others. Petra. Esme. Marta. Jolie and Karla and Sam. Heida and Lise. Even Frederika. If she lived, odds were the others wouldn’t.
“You have to be completely certain, Anouk. You aren’t a Pretty, and the flames are designed to test Pretties. Who knows what they’ll make of you.”
She frowned at him. “Don’t make it sound like I’m spoiled cabbage, Luc. I’m a beastie and you are too. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Of course not, but is it enough to protect you from the fire?”
She shoved the bell in her pocket. “I’m certain, Luc. I promise.”
Music began playing in the great hall overhead. Luc didn’t move, but Anouk tipped her chin up, listening keenly. It was a dreary dirge on violin and viola, but hearing any music at all at the Cottage was like stumbling on a coconut-cream cake in a cemetery.
“The Eve Feast is starting. Zut, I haven’t finished mulling the wine.” She eyed Luc’s baron’s crest more closely. “No one knows you’re a beastie?”
He adjusted his hat. “Not a bad disguise, eh?”
“We can use this. If the Royals think you’re one of them, you can listen in for any mentions of the Coven of Oxford or the plagues in London. For all we know, some of the Royals might be in league with the witches. Could you do that?”
“Dust Bunny, I didn’t just water roses for Mada Vittora. I’ve been a spy longer than you’ve been alive.”
“Go, then,” s