The bell towers peal again. The beast fractures, thrashing. Before it can reunite, a third toll sounds down the muddy lane.
Themahrscreeches a final ruinous note, and explodes into dust.
The street is silent but for the rest of the tolls, until the ringer reaches up and tugs at the bells in my hand. “Need those back,” she whispers.
I let them go. “Thanks.”
Then I look over at Emeric, and burst into laughter.
“What?” He stares at me, as if somehow this is the strangest thing he’s seen today.
I gesture to the mud on his now-askew cloak, the smears of grime on his face, the spots on his spectacles. Even his hair is so thick with dirt and sweat, it’s nearly lightened to brown. For a final touch, I wipe my filthy hand on a sleeve he jerks away. “Finally. You fit right in.”
Emeric doesn’t seem to find that nearly as funny as I do. “We need to get out of the open. And then we need toreallyhave a word.”
I fold my arms as Ragne lands on my shoulder. “Counteroffer: You give me back the ledger, I stop making fun of you for looking like a human civics primer, and we part ways as mutually thwarted adversaries.”
“Before or after I take the real Gisele to Castle Reigenbach? Now,a word.” He points to an open doorway nearby. The windows have been boarded over, and the door itself is dangling from its hinges, long in disuse.
It couldn’t screamtraplouder if there was a visible bucket of water balanced over the doorjamb.
Ragne must sense my unease, for she leaps from my shoulder and lands in the mud as a black wolf. Emeric nearly jumps out of his skin. “Remember, if you try to hurt the Vanja,” Ragne tells him, “I will bite you, many times. AndIdo not fear the bells.”
Then she pads through the doorway.
“You heard the lady,” I add, and follow her inside.
I can see why the building’s abandoned once my eyes adjust to the dim. The ceiling beams are rotted through, sagging perilously, and the far end of the front room has sunk at least a foot into the mud. But evidently it’s good enough for Emeric, for he stalks in behind us. He tries to close the door without success, gives up, and asks me bluntly, “How did you know thenachtmahrwas coming? You pushed me out of the way.”
I debate my answer, but he already knows half of it, and I can’t think of a danger in him knowing the rest. “I was given to Death and Fortune as a child; that’s why their marks are on me. They’re my godmothers. I can see their hands at work.”
“So you saw Fortune working against me?”
I shake my head. “I saw Death.”
It’s another answer he didn’t expect; he turns from keeping an eye on the lane outside to give me a startled, almost-indignant look. “Then you saved my life.”
“I . . . suppose.” The idea is wretchedly uncomfortable, especially since I’m almost positive Death was trying to help me. I retreat to more familiar ground: exploitation. “That has to atleastbe worth a measly ledger.”
Emeric stares at the floor, and I don’t think he caught that, or he’d be making a face at me. Then he looks up. There’s a hungry edge in his dark eyes, like he’s about to take a gamble. “Margrave von Reigenbach is responsible.”
“What?”
“Klemens and I aren’t after you,” he continues in a rush. “Not really. ThePfennigeistcase is a cover so we can actually investigate von Reigenbach and the Wolfhünden. And I’m almost certain he sent thatnachtmahrto kill me before I find out what he’s up to.”
“Wait. Stop. Wait.” I put my hands up between us. “Youaren’ttrying to arrest me? What about that whole Winterfast pageant you put on when you broke into my room?”
“I thought I could blackmail you into spying on the margrave.”
For a moment I contemplate asking Ragne to tear out his throat. All that time I spent stressing over the looming threat of this day-old breadstick with a thirst for justice, and it was all a bluff.
But I’m loath to admit it worked.
“You really know how to make a girl feel special,” I just grumble instead. Then the back of my bare hand catches my eye. Frowning, I take a closer look.
Emeric shrugs. “You’ve been living a double life for what, a year? I need someone to get close to von Reigenbach, and someone who can steal the signet ring off his hand is much more likely to get the evidence I’m looking for. Besides, it’s not all blackmail. We’d ask the bailiff to reduce your sentence, and the Order might have information that could help you with your curse.”
I’m only listening with half an ear as I pull off my other glove.
