“Lovely, dear, thank you!”
Mab flits off, anger abruptly vanquished. The garland trails after her like a loyal hedgehog. Emphasis on the hedge.
“Do you want me to help you take that off?” I call out as she strides away.
She doesn’t seem to hear.
Cool. Cool cool cool.
I survey the State Room, now cleared of distraction. I know that in the scheme of things, it doesn’t matter if table 6 lacks decorations, since we’re planning to kidnap Hanry before he takes his vows. And Mab’s pleasure in adorning the room in purple flowers is unlikely to outweigh her anger at my criminal mischief.
Especially when all my ruinous, wedding-sabotaging machinations begin at 1 p.m., sharp. Beginning with the release of an impala. It’s going to be a double black diamond downhill slide.
But when an overalls-clad fairy servant minion crosses my path, I grab him by his shoulder straps and ask, in spite of everything: “You! Any chance there’s a flower market around here?”
The fairy casts me a Rochester-y non-look. “The closest market is in Albany.”
“Is it a flower market or a supermarket?”
He offers a shrug in reply. Fine: it’s up to me, then. I whip out my phone and text my Salem wholesaler to see if he knows someone local who can do a last-minute favor. Sure, it’ll be great if I can appease Mab by getting her flowers. More importantly, though: when the carriage returns from its errand in Albany, it’ll be empty and ready for us to use in our escape. That’s why I’m doing this. Obviously.
Bulan’s crow tugs unhelpfully at my earlobe. “Crraww?”
“Stop. I’ve got to finish this text,” I hiss, protecting my unfairly abused head.
“Craww crawww,” the bird-demon says.
“Fine! I’ll go where you want. Minion, give me your phone number.”
The fairy’s mask of indifference falters, but he obeys. I send him a text so we have each other’s contact information, then say, “Get a carriage ready and have your best-dressed, most aesthetically sensible fairy go to Albany and pick up our order at the address I’ll send you. Tell your other minions to fill the vases a third of the way up with cold water and set up the garlands and candles following my outline. Leavea finger’s width of space in the vases for additional stems. Got it? Keep those arrangementsloose.”
“I will allow them to run as they please,” the fairy says hesitantly.
“No, there should be no running. Do I have to do everythin—WAGH!” The crow is ripping out my hair. From the goddamned root! “Fine! We’ll go now, you fiend!”
A few chunks of hair poorer, I stalk out of the State Room. This better be quick. I have a feeling Mab isn’t done with pitching last-minute ideas, and next time she might move forward without discussing them with me first. I’ve got to find a way to keep her busy. The last thing I need is for Momzilla cottoning on that I’m ruining her son’s wedding.
Besides, I’ve just been violently depilated by a bird. There’s only so much a girl can take.
26BUT THEN AGAIN, CROWS ARE THE LEAST OF MY PROBLEMS
SATISFIED WITH ITS FEAST OFkeratin and styling product, the crow settles into its new home above my shoulder blades, alternating nipping me right and left. It directs me up the grand tree trunk staircase and through winding hallways lit with glowing orbs until at last we arrive in an art gallery. Maybe the word “art” is too generous. The room contains row after useless row of sculpted heads and busts, all chiseled with kooky expressions and ill-advised facial features.
“Bulan!?” I call out. “Stop playing hide-and-seek.”
One of the heads turns on his marble stool, grinning. Then guffawing.
“For once,” I say, “you seem like the most normal part of the room. Why are you laughing?”
“What happened to your hair?” asks Bulan. “Are those bangs?”
“How many times have I had to tell you? Your gangster bird-friends aren’t to be trusted.” With an offended caw, the crow takes off from my shoulder. I take the opportunity to rearrange what’s left of my front locks. “Have you found out where they’re keeping Hanry?”
“Not yet!”
I glare. “Then why am I here?”
“Dave discovered oubliettes in the floor of the castle’s super-dark Royal Wing.”
