Midnight Beauties (Grim Lovelies 2)

Chapter 42

She drove back to the city at less of a breakneck speed. As soon as she crossed the city limits, night descended again, as though someone had turned off the lights in a bright room. Likewise, the world came to a standstill. Frozen cars were coated in ice. Birds hung in mid-flight. Snow was falling, to her relief—?Duke Karolinge must still have the energy to continue casting his spell, but she knew he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. She crested a hill and saw flashes of colored light: purple in Belgravia, blue in Ken­sington. Her heart soared. The lights were at the outer edges of the neighborhoods. The teams were almost finished.

She drove back toward Big Ben on streets that were almost entirely clear of smoke. A few wisps curled after her, but they were too small to be harmful. She neared a figure standing at the base of the tower.

She cut the engine and smiled at Cricket. She tumbled off the motorcycle, her legs shaking badly, and let it crash to its side in the street. Beau would be horrified, but scratched paint was the least of her worries.

“You got rid of the smoke!” Cricket exclaimed. “And you didn’t break your neck. Bravo!”

Anouk grinned. “And you? The Heart of Alexandrite?”

“Mission accomplished.” Cricket held up a paper bag from the museum gift shop. Then her expression turned secretive. “Are you sure about this? About . . . the other plan you told me on the rooftop?”

“As sure as anyone can be.”

A rustle came from the tower. Big Ben’s lancet windows were now sealed, the smoke contained except for the few harmless wisps slipping out from the cracks.

Hunter Black jumped into the mountain of clocks at the base, cursing as he made his unsteady way toward them. His hands were bleeding. There were traces of downy moth wings on his lips. Whatever had been involved in sealing the tower’s windows, it had taken magic and a risk of physical impairment. But the assassin only wiped his hands on his dark pants.

“You scaled the Eiffel Tower faster,” Cricket teased.

She got a scowl in return.

Anouk rolled her eyes and pointed toward the east. “The Court of the Woods is almost finished with Islington. And from what I could see, Petra’s cleared all of Chelsea. I think—?incredibly—?we might actually live.”

Her confidence wavered as she looked at the pyre of clocks and the few remaining wisps of smoke curling around her ankles. The ticking of clocks—?powered by the Noirceur—?was deafening. She wished she could see the rooftop of the British Museum. How much energy did Duke Karolinge have left? Could he keep it snowing much longer?

“If I tell you something”—?Hunter Black’s voice was uncertain, but he pushed forward, clenching his bleeding hands—?“do you promise to keep it secret?”

Cricket and Anouk exchanged a surprised look. Hunter Black was known for his secret keeping, but it was usually them he was keeping secrets from.

“Yes,” Anouk said slowly.

A muscle jumped in his jaw. “This sounds like something from one of Luc’s stories, but I swear that I’m not making it up. When I was at the top of the tower, looking into the smoke . . . I had a vision.”

He jerked his head as though he expected them to laugh. But nobody laughed. Anouk and Cricket exchanged another look, and Cricket said in a hollow voice, “It wasn’t your first vision, was it? I bet you had one too when you were turned into a wolf.”

His eyes snapped to hers. “How did you know that?”

“Anouk and I had visions too.”

His tense shoulders eased in visible relief. “The first one happened when Mada Zola turned me into a wolf. I didn’t trust it then. Wasn’t certain exactly what I saw.” His hand anxiously toyed with the buttons on his shirt. “But up there in the tower, I saw it again.”

Anouk breathed, “What did you see?”

“Royals. A small contingent. In a forest. Riding horses, not motorcycles. Eating lamb roast over a bonfire, not sushi from Le Petit Japonais. Their lips were dusted with powder that glittered like crystals. They were led by a king and queen dressed in bear pelts. They had an army of enchanted Pretties with them.”

“The ancient Royals,” Anouk whispered. “King Svatyr and Queen Mid Ruath of the Snowfire Court, just like Jak told us about.”

Hunter Black nodded. “They ordered their Pretty slaves to pack away their encampment, while the contingent led by the king and queen rode a mile away to a clearing where enormous stones rose from the ground and smoke covered the earth.”

“Stonehenge,” Cricket said.

He nodded. “They revered it. I don’t think they or their ancestors built it—?it seemed ancient even to them. They burned hemlock and whispered a kindred spell that drew smoke into the stones. They camped at the stones and celebrated with honey wine.” He paused, uncertain whether to continue, then said, “At midnight, when the others were passed out, Queen Mid Ruath stepped outside of the stones. She sang into the wind. I don’t know if it was a spell or a ballad—?I didn’t understand the words—?but they’re burned into my brain:

“Baz perrik, baz mare, baz teri,

en utidrava aedenum sa nav.”