“You’re all completely mad,” he grumbled, but his voice had lost its bite. “Without me, you don’t stand a chance.” He leaped to his paws and puffed out his chest, tail high. “After all, I’m the lucky star of this house.”
I didn’t give him time to protest and hugged him tight. He smelled like roasted marshmallow, the kind Nyla used to make us.
“And that idiot doesn’t even realize he needs saving too,” Aignan groused, nestling his head into my neck. “Always playing the hero like that. But tell me, how do you plan to get there?”
I sprang up and turned to Yeun. “Arawn already enchanted the shop, didn’t he? If it senses I’m in danger, it can lead me to him. Just like when the witch cursed me.”
Yeun nodded slowly. “It’s possible. It depends on the strength of the bond that remains.”
A fierce smile tugged at my lips as the butterfly of mist landed on my shoulder.
“Perfect. I’ll prepare the elixir. But you…” I grabbed a stack of plates, raised them over my head, and smashed them on the floor. “I order you to break everything until the house reacts.”
“And to think he worked so hard for this.” Yeun sighed.
I hurled another porcelain plate to the ground. “He’ll have all the time in the world to be furious with me later. But right now, I’m going to save that fool from himself.”
In a flash, plates shattered, vials exploded, and chaos flooded the shop. I dashed up the stairs four at a time, hastily gathering the ostrich egg, his heart, my grimoire, and the remaining sucre d'or (and even mine, the one I had kept from my curse, because in cooking, there were never bad ingredients).
Downstairs was the shop and its kitchen. But upstairs… Upstairs was a home. A real one. Every door opened to bedrooms, bathrooms, another kitchen, and a sunroom salon. I set the ingredients on the counter, then stopped before the final door, higher still, on the top floor. My name was carved into the wood. I pressed down the handle.
The third floor was a bedroom. A lavender bed sheltered beneath a ceiling of tiny sugared stars glittering above. A terrace hidden behind gauzy curtains that billowed in the breeze. A wardrobe twined with ivy and fairy lights, bursting with dresses and aprons in every color.
And Arawn’s empty frames from the manor but filled now. Frozen in time. Fragments of me and the Cursed in the kitchen,of the festival with Yeun and the Spirits. Everyone except him, as if each picture had been taken through his eyes.
The tears came before I could stop them, hot against my cheeks. I rushed onto the terrace, letting the fresh air wash over me. I gripped the railing, smooth wood beneath my fingers, the wind playing through my hair.
My gaze drifted beyond the rooftops, toward the horizon. The mist butterfly landed on my nose and beat its wings slowly, as if to comfort me. And before I could bite my tongue, the words slipped out on their own, like a wish whispered to the wind.
“If I rewrite the heart of the elixir, maybe I could save you. There’s only the thinnest line between poison and remedy.”
The butterfly spun around me again, leaving trails of mist.
My confectioner’s gift had allowed me to heal hearts. To dive into the deepest buried feelings. To find the ingredient, or the recipe, capable of repairing what seemed irreparable.
I clenched my fists. “This time, I’ll dive all the way. I’ll go where even he refused to go.”
I was going to step inside Arawn’s hearts.
“The confectioner!”
A shrill voice made me jump. Below, a hunched silhouette shook a cane in fury. Madame Martine.
“You were on vacation?” the crone thundered, her cane pointed skyward like a judge’s gavel. “And what are these ridiculous renovations? They ruin our peaceful village!”
“Don’t worry, I’m leaving soon!” I shouted down, before spinning around to scream, “Aignan! Chouquette! Éclair! Yeun! Guimauve! You’re not breaking enough down there!”
A deafening crash answered me, and Martine, leaping back, nearly tripped over a cobblestone.
“What infernal racket! And the candies, then? You’re not working at all anymore. I can see it, vacation doesn’t suit your complexion, you look exhausted.”
I laughed.“That’s because I’m happy, Martine!”
The house groaned, shuddered, its foundations slowly tearing free from the ground. Living roots writhed beneath the structure, dislodging dust and earth, lifting the confectionery higher and higher.
It’s working.
I waved to her in farewell. “I really must be going. See you soon!”
