Eunice tipped her head, but Abbi said, “I know where she is.”
My knees almost buckled, the relief was so great. Hado leaned again, propping me up.
“Where?” I asked. “Where is she?”
“He took her,” Abbi said.
“Who took her?” I asked.
“That god.”
“Cupid,” I said before automatically correcting, “Mad Mat. Is that the god who took her?”
Abbi nodded. “I thought he was old, but I was wrong. He was pretending to be old. He’s a god, but doesn’t look like what he should look like.”
“Illusion, trickery, chaos,” Eunice said.
“Where is he?” I asked, moving toward the door, but realizing I didn’t have resources. No phone, no car, no direction. Not even a damn plan.
“I could show you. We can drive. Oh,” she wiped fingers on her bright skirt. “We broke the truck and left the other car, didn’t we?”
“I’ll call a taxi. A Lyft. Do you have a phone?” I turned to Eunice and caught the keys flying toward my face.
“Truck’s out back.” She pulled a duffle out from a low cupboard. “Blankets, some food, water. Things I thought you might need.”
I swallowed, the flood of relief, of gratitude washing against the shores of my reserve. “Thank you. For helping me.”
Abbi made a little sound.
“For helping us,” I said.
“Hold true to our deal,” Eunice warned. “Remember what I said. I promise you, Brogan Gauge, if you betray me, worse, if you don’t follow through and bring the reed to me, you will regret that decision for the rest of your life.”
“I understand.” I didn’t have to tell her I was going to find Lu first. That one thing—Lula’s safety—would always come before any promises to gods, muses, or monsters.
Eunice was a muse who could hear the music of starlight, the songs of tomorrows. I figured she could hum my future better than I could.
“You’ll need a phone.” She gave me one from her pocket. “And you need to hear this: Cupid gave you a dime. All of you. It is as real as any other thing.”
I waited to see if she was going to make sense of that, but she chuckled softly and patted the halo of her hair, bracelets clicking. “Go on. That’s enough. Time is pouring out. Don’t waste it.”
I bent for the duffle, but Abbi had already scooped it up and was wrestling the strap over her shoulder and backpack. “Shotgun,” she said.
“There isn’t anyone else who can ride in the passenger seat,” I said.
“There’s Lorde. And Hado.” She strolled through the door into the night, navigating the porch and stairs as if it were bright as day.
Hado meowed, a little kitten sound, and bounded after Abbi in his small cat form.
“Yes, you would,” she said to her shadow. “You like sitting up front.”
Lorde stretched and yawned, then trotted up next to me. She tipped her big fuzzy head, her dark eyes soft and curious.
“Lula,” I said. “We’re going to go find Lula, girl.”
Lorde’s tail wagged, and she opened her mouth briefly, then nudged my hand.
“I know, I know,” I said. “Time to go.” I glanced back at the muse.
