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The paupers’ field beyond the western gate held enough dead to ground the magick properly, but it was too exposed. Anyone traveling the coast road would see the candles, and it was of utmost importance that I wasn’t disturbed. The burying ground in Old Town presented a different problem. It was surrounded by tall iron gates and locked at sundown.

But gates and locks could be overcome.

I traced the cemetery’s outline on the map. It occupied a large plot of land near the northern edge of Old Town, but it appeared to be too close to taverns and shops. I couldn’t guarantee I’d be undisturbed, even after dark.

Adrien returned carrying three books stacked beneath his chin. He dropped them onto the table with a bang that made Della startle from her perch on the back of my chair.

He examined the cemetery plan. “Are you going ghost-hunting without me?”

I sighed, knowing I didn’t have the heart to keep this from him. “I’m looking for a place to recharge my magick, if you must know. Hallowed ground is powerful, especially for rechargings. But it is very important I’m not disturbed, and all of these places are very exposed.”

Adrien leaned over the map. “What about one of the charging houses?”

I looked up at him. “One of the what?”

“Valemer has public charging houses for Witches of the Darkness.”

“You do?”

Adrien gave me a look that made the answer feel obvious. “This is a port city. People come from all over. You’re not the first witch in Old Town who has needed a place to recharge her magick away from home.”

“That is very… practical,” I said.

“They’re older than Papa,” Adrien offered, “and he makes certain they remain available. He says a port cannot invite witches to trade and then force them to practice their magick in secret.” He ran a finger over the map until he found a tiny mark beside one of the mausoleums inside Old Town Burying Ground that I had mistaken for a printing flaw. “See, that’s the old city mark. The mausoleum door can be secured so the witch isn’t disturbed.” He tapped the page. “The same mark should be carved outside the entrance.”

“You have a good eye,” I said.

“No, I just read the map key.” He gestured to the small box at the bottom of the map. It said that to access the public charging house, one needed to request the After Dark key from the groundskeeper.

“Well, I’m glad I’m nanny to the most observant eight-year-old in existence.”

I wrote out a quick request on a small slip of parchment, then rolled it up and tied it to Della's leg. The clock began striking seven, and Severin appeared in the library doorway. Adrien looked up from the table and sighed.

“It is time for me to relieve Miss Ravenwood of her duties.”

“Can Della come with us?” Adrien asked.

I glanced at my familiar. “Once she finishes this request, she can come right to you,” I told him. “But you need to let her rest.”

Severin set a hand on Adrien’s shoulder and guided him toward the door. “You can help me count responses to Caspien’s nameday ball until Della returns. I’m sure it will be just as thrilling for you as it is for me.”

Once they disappeared, I removed the folded cemetery plan from the burial register and copied the important details into my journal. Then I carried Della to an open window.

“The Old Town Burying Ground,” I whispered.

While Della went off to deliver my request, I took a late-night stroll around the salt ponds overlooking the harbor, going over every step of tomorrow’s plan. The lanterns along the path provided just enough light to keep me from tripping over my own feet.

I stopped to watch the fireflies as they blinked on and off above the water. For whatever reason, I was curious what Yves was up to and why Severin was adamant about keeping Adrien with him.

A toad croaked, and it sounded almost like laughter. I glanced down at the nearby lily pads, remembering the strange light I’d seen outside the cottage, but there was nothing but dark water. I stepped away from the edge all the same.

A familiar prickle moved across my skin. At the far end of the path, Mama hovered beneath an old willow, her red hair stirring in the wind.

I furrowed my brow at the sight of her. “Where have you been?” I asked.

She didn’t answer. She never answered.

Weeks of pent-up frustration came pouring out. “Have you been talking to someone else?” I balled my hands into fists and lowered my voice. “Is that why you won’t speak to me?”