“Was that not a kiss?”
Victor’s smile was fox-sly. “When I kiss you, you’ll know.”
Something trilled inside Selene, the cadence of her heart beat svegliato. She reminded herself that Victor was the means to an end. Convinced herself that the promise ofwhenwas just a casual turn of phrase. This was merely a distraction. A trick to quell the crowd.
Once they were down the street, on some quiet corner, Victor whistled.
A horse with a shining black coat trotted up to them. He was huge and ferocious. A creature born and bred for war. He stopped inches away from them. He snuffed at Victor and nosed his pockets.
“All right, all right. I promised there’d be sugar, didn’t I?”
Victor produced three shining cubes. The horse crunched them merrily.
“Tonnerre, this is my friend, the one I’ve been telling you about. Selene, this is the magnificent Tonnerre.”
“You’ve been talking to your horse about me?”
“No.” Victor reached into his other pocket and fished out a few more sugar cubes. He placed them in her hand. “You’ve got it all wrong. He’s not my horse. I’m his human.” He leaned in to whisper, “He’s very sensitive about it all.”
“Naturally.” Selene held the sugar on her palm. “Hello, Tonnerre. You are handsome.”
His ears pricked up and he gave her hand a tentative sniff. His lips feathered gingerly against her gloves. With a gentleness unbefitting his size, he plucked the sugar from her palm and tossed his head.
“He likes you.” Victor stroked Tonnerre’s mane. The blunt edge showed where it had been cropped and had since grown out into waves of silk.
“He’s stunning,” Selene said. “He looks more a king than you, any day.”
Tonnerre whickered in agreement.
“I don’t need the two of you ganging up on me.” Victor reached into the saddlebag and handed Selene a lidded mug. He cleared his throat. “Selene, there’s something we need to talk about.”
There was an edge to his tone, a heaviness to his gaze. Selene’s stomach tightened. Not today. Whatever it was, she didn’t want it today.
“Where are we going?” She opened the cup and breathed in the steam.
“Wherever you’d like.”
She wanted to go into the mirror and get her sheet music. But to go back, she needed the death of a dream. She needed tangible ruin.
Benson.
It seemed wrong, like a betrayal. But it was all she had.
“Can you take me to the Asylum?”
Victor’s mouth set with resolve. There was something in his eyes. “I think that’s a fine idea.”
The Asylum was on the other side of Songerie. The farthest edge, where the hills rolled and the trees grew tall as buildings. Selene had never been there. But she knew it was a quiet place, where magicians went and did not come back. There were a thousand dreams all gone to rot in there. She only needed one.
“We’d better go if we’re going to make it back at a reasonable hour,” Victor said. He swung up onto Tonnerre’s back.
“I don’t know how to ride,” Selene said.
“Sure you do,” Victor said. “I taught you, remember?”
“I haven’t been on a horse since.”
“It’s like falling off a log.” Victor offered her his hand. “Trust me.”
