On the bed sat a small cardboard box that had been waiting for us outside the door. It was deep green and stamped with the red logo of Cruelty’s pseudo-school. Inside were fur clippings. The exact shade and texture of Peach’s.
“They’re going to kill her,” Miz rasped, sibilant.
“No, they won’t,” Tor said, trying to talk him down. “They’ve only taken her so we’ll stay here and play their sadistic game. So we stay. And we play.”
“Miz,” I breathed, trying to catch him as he paced. It was like trying to catch smoke. I tried to wrangle my own strange affinity for darkness and death; to wield the shadows I’d glimpsed only a few times, but I was too stressed. I wanted to go home, but the gates were still gone, the realm was still under fog, and even the other gods—diligently working on finding a way back—hadn’t had any luck.
Neither had we had any luck in contacting Hunger. I had a bad feeling the psycho twins had hurt him. Or stashed him in an iron maiden somewhere in one of Ford’s dark, dusty, long-forgotten rooms.
I took a breath, tasting the rich aroma of coffee Madde brought up a few minutes ago, and tried to catch Miz again. I suspected it only worked because he saw my distress and allowed his humanoid form to break through the cloak and shadows.
With a sigh, he materialised in front of me, his fingers laced with mine. “We play their game in public, and search for Peach in private.”
“Of course we’ll look for her,” I agreed, brushing a frazzled strand of white hair off his forehead. “She’s our family; we’re not going to just leave her here. We found Tor. We’ll find Peach.”
I glanced at Tor, searching for signs of strain or trauma. He said he’d been trapped in that mirror and left alone, but paranoia insisted Violence had taken him out and tortured him. It insisted my husband was hiding scars deep down where I couldn’t sense them. We hadn’t bonded yet, but I wanted to. The second we got a moment alone.
Misery’s pale throat bobbed with a swallow, and he blinked rapidly.
“Let it out,” I breathed, pulling him into me. My heart cut through with a vicious ache when he bowed over me, his cheek resting on my shoulder. “Let it all out. I can take it.”
“I can’t,” he rasped, clutching me closer. “It’s too much. All this misery would kill a mortal.”
“I can transform into a jaguar. I have wisps of my own magic. I’m not sure I’m mortal anymore, Miz. Trust me. I can handle it.”
And I trustedhim.He would never do anything to harm me, let alone kill me.
“I won’t let you bear this pain alone,” I whispered, running my fingers through his long hair, smoothing the errant strands and tangles. I reached for the icy rain of my soul and pictured myself standing in a storm, weathering the drenching cold, welcoming it.
Miz shuddered and slipped the leash from his magic. It took all my effort to bite my tongue instead of gasping. My eyes stung, watered. My chest crushed, caving in. But I held onto him and didn’t let go. All this suffering, all this misery. I wouldn’t let him endure it alone.
Neither would Tor, I realised, when his arms came around us both, a kiss pressed to my forehead, then Miz’s temple. Then Death quietly crossed the room from where he’d sat at the desk, watching us with sad eyes. Pain’s shadows brushed my side, his lips pressing to my temple, and some of the pressure in my heart eased. Arms wrapped around me from behind, and Madde’s fiery soul wrapped around mine like an affectionate octopus, easing some of the strain on my chest.
Together we bore the devastation battering at Miz. And when we parted, we began to plan.
CHAPTER 27
CAT
Cruelty was pissed off. I knew because there were violets everywhere I turned, their floral scent a taunt that stuffed up my nostrils until I sneezed. But they didn’t deliver the emotional blow she intended. The memories of watching Death perish in the garden outside the castle were as sharp as ever, but I knew he was safe and whole and alive.1 I’d just spent half an hour hugging him, so the violets decorating the staircase railings in Lawrence Hall had no effect on me. Neither did the vases at the bottom or throughout the dining hall.
I kept my head high, my expression clear, and hoped Cruelty saw it. I hoped she was clenching her little rat hands in rage.
“This is creepy,” Miz breathed as we entered the dining hall. It hadn’t changed in the weeks I’d been away from Ford. The same wainscotting on the walls, the same tureens of food in the corner by the large windows, sunlight spilling over the tables occupied by students. Unlike last time, a quietude hung over the room. That was what raised goosebumps on my arms as wecrossed the hall, filling plates with various breakfast foods and scoping the place out.
“They’re like robots,” Madde whispered as we found a table by the wall and just watched the students. They didn’t react to our presence, didn’t flinch at our voices, just kept their heads down as they ate, any conversations they held mumbling and low.
The plan was to ask around discreetly for any sightings of Peach here, while Tor, Pain, and Death searched this building from top to bottom. It would be like Cruelty to have Peach here, right under our noses, where it would hurt us the most when we realised how close she’d been all along. But we had to be careful, so she or Violence didn’t notice. If they knew we weren’t playing theirperfect, ordinary pupilsgame, there’d be worse consequences than detention.
When we left the room, the new guards in Ford School of Cruelty uniforms standing outside our room had held out a crisp envelope. Inside was a summons to detention at 4PM later today. The last thing I wanted was to spend any time with Cruelty, especially if that bitch wore Honey’s face again, but if it kept her occupied while we searched for Peach, I was resigned to do so.
I looked up from the agave I was stirring into my acai smoothie bowl when four chairs scraped back in unison. Across the room, four girls I vaguely recognised stood in a synchronised motion, pushed their chairs back in, and walked to the exit.
“They look like a synchronised swimming team,” I whispered to Madde and Miz, and sharpened my attention on the doorway when Justin, Wil, and Duncan walked through, barely a foot of space between them, as if they’d been programmed into being besties. Duncan couldn’t stand anyone at this school, least of all Justin. I remembered him sitting in the snow by the gates, stressed to breaking point. Guilt spiked my chest. I’d walkedaway, safe in the domain, and just left him here. I’d left Wil, too, and all he’d ever been was kind and accepting. Both of them, vulnerable to Cruelty and Violence’s manipulations.
I got to my feet, leaving my food untouched, and joined him, Wil, and Justin at the table they sat at, without food, without coffee. They didn’t murmur conversations like some of the other tables. Maybe even Cruelty’s magic couldn’t convince Duncan to play pretendthatmuch.
“Hey,” I said, sitting opposite him, peering into his eyes and searching for something of the guy I knew. When he didn’t react, I leaned closer and whispered, “Duncan. It’s Cat. We’re friends, remember?”
