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“Well, Mister Foxy was beside himself over your friends not looking out for your well-being. He was all worked up about it, and Number One and Number Two insisted he tell them who, but then they went quiet for a bit, and I couldn’t hear the rest.”
Oh. Okay, well, that’s not helpful.
“But then Number One shouted so loudly, ‘Who the fuck is Alfie?’ that I dropped my comb, and it fell in the ocean. It took me five minutes to find it. Would you believe it?”
“They spoke about Alfie?”
“Mm. Master Fox was down on himself because he should have monitored minds, but he’s been so good at staying out of people’s heads without their permission since you got here.” She pauses, thinks, then adds, “Oh wait, that was before Number One shouted. He’s been doing that a lot lately. Never used to. But they’re running out of time to save Number Six, and if you get turned to stone before the tournament, then you obviously can’t be turned to stone in Number Six’s place, now can you?”
Does this mean they’ll still go ahead with that plan?
She pauses, mid-comb. “Mister Foxy isveryagainst that plan. Don’t worry, he told them he’s changed his mind. He’s verynoton board with sacrificing you anymore.”
Done with his snack, the baby Wild Hunt sniffs around the floor and wanders out. I lean back against the cold stovetop and chew my nails. The chatty gossip has just validated Fox’s confession.
“You’re good for them, you know.” Marina’s comb slows to a halt. “Having their fated queen here has breathed new life into each of them.”
“How so?”
“Before you arrived, Number One had grown quiet and withdrawn. Number Two refused to have fun. Anything that took him away from his duties was a waste of time. Even Number Three has visited more often. And Number Four, goodness, he used to wander the halls naked, rambling hysterical nonsense before you arrived. Now he lets them clean, shave, and feed him.”
“There’s a lot of complicated history between us.”
“Mm. And a lot of reasons to fall in love,” she agrees, misreading my meaning.
“Their obsession with me ruined my life.”
She gasps. “Did it? You seem very real to me. Are you dead?”
“No,” I grumble. “I’m right here.”
“Oh. Are you ruined, then? You seem very much in possession of all your limbs and wits.”
“Fighting for them robbed me of magic.”
“Did it?” She cocks her head. “Where did they put it?”
I see what she’s doing, and it won’t work. “Because of them, my Aunt is dead.”
But she drags in a shocked, dramatic breath. “Did theyfeedon your aunt?”
“No!” How dare she insinuate they’ve done nothing wrong.
“Well, who did?”
“No one. It was...” Images flash in my mind—Rory choosing me. Cloud’s outrage, his fury that he wasn’t the one to kill her. He wanted revenge so badly that he considered letting me fall instead of her. I had nothing to do with their drama, a fact Rory knew.
And if I had nothing to do with their drama, then... then Marina is right. The Six had nothing to do with her death.
“Oh, there you are, love.” Cricket bustles in, wiping her hands on her apron. “My apologies. Had to go to the little lady’s room for a spot. Now, what can I get you? I have a soup waiting to reheat.”
She opens a cupboard and reheats a ceramic pot on the freshly lit stovetop.
Marina says overly loud, “I was just telling Her Majesty how it’s been so much brighter here since she arrived.”
I blush. “Please, just call me Willow. Even if I wanted to be their queen, I have no magic.”
“Oh, hun.” She gives me a sympathetic pout. “Who said magic has anything to do with it? Right, Cricket? Oh no, Cricket! You need more pepper than that.”
