We started the last flight of stairs.
“Maddox, I need you to keep watch when we search her room,” I said.
Maddox quickened his pace, boots squeaking on the marble. “Why does it have to be you two? I can do it. You’re the crown princess, for heaven's sake. And what if Celeste recognizes Giselle?”
“I need you as a guard,” I said. “And Giselle knows charmwitch magic. She’ll know what to look for.”
Maddox didn’t look convinced. “What if you don’t find anything? And what if Celeste barges in when you’re in there? Don’t tell me you’re going to engage in an epic battle of magic like you did last summer. Because you don’t have any.”
“Thank you for the reminder,” I said flatly. The thought of summoning that many animals again made my bones ache. How I managed that was still a mystery, but exploring untapped parts of my magic hadn’t appealed to me in ages.
Giselle blew a breath at Maddox’s paranoid ramblings. “It’ll be a quick search,” she said. “And I highly doubt we’ll need your guarding either.”
I swallowed as the steps ended. My fingers were frozen and shaking, but I steeled myself and marched to the auditorium with Giselle and Maddox.
All that mattered now was Misty. Our last conversation had been a disagreement. Now I knew there were things worse than her choosing Pippin over me. Losing the ability to talk to her was one of them. I had to set things right.
The auditorium was dimly lit, the space infinitely larger without the hustle-bustle of an audience. The velvet curtains were drawn. I would have assumed the space was empty if it weren’t for the occasional racket from the stagehands. Giselle, Maddox, and I slipped up the backstage steps.
Luckily, there were only a few people running errands. Several were repairing the giant painted moon from the beginning of the show. No one looked up at our entrance. I surveyed the space for any possible obstacle.
“There,” Maddox whispered, tilting his head to offstage left.
A dark-haired stagehand loitered before the short hallway we needed to pass. It led to the performers’ rooms. I sucked in a breath when I recognized him. Patrick. He had been at the rebel meetings. It seemed he had managed to escape arrest.
“You two go on. I’ll take care of him,” Maddox said.
I nodded and watched him saunter over to Patrick, leading him away from the hall. Giselle and I crept into the hallway.
“Rehearsal in ten minutes!” someone hollered from the stage.
I cursed. We must have lost track of time upstairs.
“Change of plans. You should hide,” I said to Giselle in a low voice. “If Celeste is here, she can’t recognize you.”
Giselle looked like she was about to protest, but sighed. “I would love to pummel her upside the head,” she grumbled, “but you’re right. Remember, look for sickleweed potion.”
I gritted my teeth, wishing I had been more prepared or more educated in witchcraft.
“What does it look like?” I asked. “Or smell like?”
Giselle pressed her mouth into a grim line. “It smells like the thing you desire most at the moment. Could be food or drink. Even atmosphere and ambiance. I suppose it makes it easier to get down, but it’s nasty magic nonetheless.”
The thing I desired most. What did defeating Celeste smell like?
Giselle wished me luck when we approached Celeste’s red door. “I’ll be here,” she said, disappearing behind a dusty tapestry on the opposite side. She poked her head out after a second, flashing a slip of patterned paper between her fingers. “If anything goes wrong, I’ve got you.”
I didn’t get to ask what the papers were before she disappeared again. Mustering up courage, I approached Celeste’s door and pressed my ear against the wood.
Silence.
But that didn’t mean she wasn’t inside. I took a deep breath and knocked. Talking to her hadn’t been a part of my plan, but I was sure I’d be able to manage if it came to it.
No response came, to my relief. The doorknob turned smoothly in my hand. I stepped inside.
Celeste’s room was a chaotic mess of pastel cushions and elegant furniture. A single lamp illuminated the space. Nothing changed since I had seen it last. Security didn’t seem to be a priority for her. Perhaps no one frequented the performers’ chambers save for Lady Ruan.
I started with the vanity. The tabletop was crowded with bottles of various shapes and sizes.
