“You don’t have to say it,” I muttered. “I know it is a ridiculous name.”
“I think it suits you very well,” he said, holding my gaze with an intensity that made me flush.
“That looks like it was a bakery once,” I said, trying to change the subject and pointing at one of the buildings. “I see the chimneys for the big ovens.”
“Good place to look for mice, a bakery,” said Cornelius. “Lots of crumbs. Mind if I pop in for minute?”
He trotted off. My stomach growled. Like Cornelius, I was suddenly very focused on food.
“I’m going in, too,” I said. “There might be something left.”
Sylvester made a vague gesture and went back to studying the flower.
There was no one inside the bakery, either. The bread was stale, as I had expected, but only a few days stale. Someone had made it three, maybe four days ago at the most, and set it out for sale on what was probably a very ordinary morning. There was still a dusting of flour on the counter. A fly buzzed around my ear, the only noise in the place.
Cornelius emerged from an open larder door.
“Find any mice?” I asked.
“Not one,” he said. “I can see that thereweremice here, not long ago, but I can’t find any.”
“This place was full of life not long ago,” I said, turning slowly to see the room. The fly followed. “Something happened.”
Cornelius hopped up gracefully onto the counter and chewed on a morsel of bread, making a face.
“We’re not going to get anywhere if we can’t find people to talk to,” I said. “And we’re clearly not going to find any here. We need to keep moving.”
The magic-made horses never required food, water, or rest, and so we were able to continue our journey without interruption. The white horror of the mist diminished behind us, and I was even able to enjoy our progress a little. The morning was cold but sunny, and the air tasted sweet as an autumn apple.
I think we all felt optimistic, even Sylvester, who still did not believe that hearts could be repaired. That made it even more of a shock when the horses came to a halt, and we found ourselves at a roadblock, surrounded by men and women holding weapons.
“Stay here,” said Sylvester. “I will talk to them.”
“Not a chance,” I said. “We don’t know how people here are going to react to a magic-worker. They might start poking at you with their sharp sticks without listening to a word you say. Let me talk to them. I don’t look like a threat. And as for you,” I turned to Cornelius, “don’t let on that you can talk. Just pretend to be an ordinary cat. All right?”
Cornelius mewed.
“Yes, like that.” I took a deep breath and pushed open the carriage door. The people outside stared to see such a homely, everyday person emerge from such an elaborate carriage. It must have been like seeing a sparrow hatch from a swan’s egg.
“Good morning,” I said to the nearest person, who was holding a spear, for want of any better ideas.
He looked me up and down. “Good morning, ma’am,” he said politely. “No one has traveled this road for a long time. We have been charged with the duty of stopping anyone—or anything—who comes this way.”
“Why?”
“Am I right in assuming you have traveled here from the Invisible Kingdom?” he asked.
“I have never heard that name,” I replied. “We have come here from another kingdom, it is true.”
“The kingdom beyond the mist?”
“Oh. Yes,” I said. “We traveled through the mist.”
A murmur went through the crowd. Concern, at the very least, and maybe even fear.
“You are the first in many years,” said the spearman. “We have to take you to our headwoman.”
“All right,” I said cautiously. “And what will she do with us?”
