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Up the newly created slope, a hand emerged from the dirt, and then another. Ilyana pulled herself out, gasping when she reached air. She was covered in mud.

As soon as she caught her breath, she started laughing.

“Flower power!” she said, smiling at the thick roots that lined the walls and ceiling. “I’m impressed.”

I clambered up the mound until I was just below her on the other side of the bars. Beyond the broken wall, I could see a sprinkling of stars glittering in the night sky. The collapse had left a way clear to the outside; she wouldn’t have to dig herself out after all. It had worked even better than I expected. Except for, you know, almost killing her.

“Are you going to be all right on your own out there?” I asked. “I’m not here alone—I could get the others together and meet you outside.”

She shook her head. “Honestly, you’d only slow me down. I know the swamp. I grew up right next to it. If you really want to help me out, stay here and distract the geniuses.”

“Genii.”

“Whatever. They’ll try to track me down. The old lady has a nose like a bloodhound and I have”—she gestured at herself—“a distinctive odor.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

“Thanks,” she said. “Thanks for everything. You had no reason to help out a total dunking stranger, but you did it anyway. That means a lot.”

She reached down and slid her fingers through the bars. I touched them with my own, briefly holding a dozen different hands, large and small, calloused and smooth, freckled and unmarked. An odd sensation, but far from an unpleasant one.

Then she pulled away and crawled up the slope of dirt, which by now was covered in flowers. I stood there watching until she was out of sight.

Before heading to the guest bedroom, I went back to the lavatory and scrubbed off as much of the dirt as I could manage. I had to climb into the sink, which was as big as a hip bath. In a full bathtub, I’d have needed to swim.

It seemed like a good idea to remove any evidence that I’d been involved in Ilyana’s escape. The flowers couldn’t be connected to me, thank goodness, since I’d kept my ability from the genius.

And if I planned to get rid of the flowers, I’d have to involve Yudit. Which I didn’t want to do. I wasn’t sure why. I trusted her not to let anything slip to the genii, so it probably would have been wiser to kill off the plants, just in case.

But there was something about my encounter with Ilyana that I wanted to keep entirely mine.

When I was done washing, I climbed up into the tower and ascended the bed once again. Yudit was still snoring, loud as a grinding millwheel, so I stayed as far away from her as I could without risking death by wisteria. A few moments later, I was sound asleep.

Chapter Fifteen

The Masculinity Test

Yudit and I were awakened by the clamor of a furious argument outside our bedchamber.

“I’m telling you, Mother,” the genius shouted, “our guests had nothing to do with it!”

“Oh, so the wall of her cell just happened to collapse the very same day they arrived?” The sneer in her voice was audible even through the door.

“How would they have managed that? It was a structural fault!”

“I built this palace myself!”

“Then you built it with a weak dungeon.”

The genius’s mother flung the door open so forcefully that it smacked the brass wall with a resounding clang. Her son stood on his tiptoes to peek over her shoulder. He gave us an apologetic look.

“See?” he said. “They were fast asleep.”

“Where were they earlier tonight? Trampling all through the palace and letting our prisoner free, I have no doubt!” Her hair-flames flared and a shower of sparks flew out, as if someone had thrown a fresh log on her head.

Yudit scooted to the edge of the bed and swung her legs over the side. “What’s all this about?” she asked, the words barely comprehensible through a huge yawn.

“I’m very sorry,” the genius told her. “My soon-to-be fiancée appears to have run off in the night, and my mother is convinced you had something to do with it.”