Ragne snarls, shuddering into a black-coated lioness, but this room was shockingly not designed for three humans, a lion, and a horse-man-monster. To make matters worse, Poldi flares up in the hearth, shouting a string of indignant insults.
“Stay there, Poldi,” I shout as Ragne swipes at the now man-sizedmahr. It wails and leaps for her jugular, but misses, biting into her shoulder instead. She screams, and my heart jumps into my throat.
“Vanja!” Emeric shouts.
I whip around to stare at him. What happened toMiss Schmidt?
“Catch—!” Emeric is trapped behind the bulk of lion-Ragne, but he tosses me one of his knives. I manage to snag it in a glimmer of good-luck gold. When I draw it from the sheath, I see it’s the copper-coated blade. The one that wounded thenachtmahrin Lähl.
Thismahrsees the penny-red flash and lets go of Ragne. It shakes its head at the knife, whining, tongue lolling, but Ragne and Emeric have blocked the door to the hall, and Poldi and I have the door to the veranda.
It lunges for Gisele.
I don’t know what it is that moves me.
Maybe it’s reflex, years of putting her first.
Maybe it’s the cold lightning calculation of instinct: I have a knife and she does not.
Maybe it’s the girl in the mirror, my ghost still haunting myself, the one who still clutches the dying taper of a hope that we can change, we can make it through the thorns, we can stop hurting each other.
I throw myself at themahr. We crash to the floor. It’s horridly clammy and almost sticky to the touch, its long fingers furiously yanking my hair into knots. I artlessly jam the copper knife into any part of it I can see, its belly, its eye, between its cracking ribs, until it gives a terrible, wheezing shudder and goes still.
I shove myself off and let the knife fall to the ground, bracing myself on my hands and knees. “All right, Poldi,” I say between breaths, “do the honors.”
“You got it, Lady,” thekoboldsays cheerily, and drags the carcass toward the hearth. There’s a series of cracks, crunches, and sizzles that I truly do not wish to investigate.
A pair of impeccably polished boot toes come into view. I look up as Emeric crouches beside me, dropping the blanket back over my shoulders. There’s an odd look on his face.
“Fine, maybe you’re onto something with the horses,” I croak.
He shakes his head, saying stiffly, “The rubies. On your . . .” He gestures to his own back. “They’ve disappeared.”
I reach between my shoulders. The sharp line of rubies down my spine is gone.
“You saved the Gisele,” Ragne adds, wincing as she limps over.
For a moment, I hang my head. It’s one more reckoning I can’t run from. Not anymore. I have to make up for what I took.
“I know how to break the curse,” I admit. Then I straighten up and look to Gisele. “Eiswald said to make up for everything I’ve stolen, and it’s not just the jewelry, it’syou. I have to make it up to you. I have to return your name and give you your life back.”
Gisele sits on the foot of the bed, stunned, as Emeric helps me to my feet.
Then she looks dead at me, eyes hard as steel, and says, “No.”
THE FIFTH TALE
The Loyal Maid
Once upon a time, there lived a family high in the mountains, in a crumbling castle, with a daughter who everyone said was kind and wise, and would rule their principality well.
One day, when the daughter was fifteen, a wolf came to their door and whispered that he would gobble their castle up if he could not have her. And so her parents gave her a charm to protect her, and sold her to the wolf.
But in case the charm failed, they sent something else with her: her maid. You see, the wolf had a taste for young blood, and the maid was loyal. She had saved the family before when they needed to placate a cruel count, and perhaps she would save their daughter now.
Perhaps the wolf would eat the maid first, and be satisfied. The wolf sent soldiers to collect the princess and her maid. They rode in silence for a long, long while, both wordless with fear. The princess was afraid that she would not please the wolf, that he might trap her in his lair, that he might hurt her. The maid knew all of those things would come to pass, and worse. And there would be not even a white penny to cling to after. The maid had plenty of time to think about this, for it was a long way to the wolf’s kingdom.
Then one sunset, when they were but a few days from Minkja, the princess could bear her troubles in silence no more. She told the soldiers she was going to the river to wash before dinner, and took her maid with her.
