He studied my face a few heartbeats more, a million questions stirring in his eyes, but nothing more was said between us. Then he was gone.

6

BASTIAN WAS AWAY FREQUENTLY, AND IT WAS MY greatest test not to search his house for something that might reveal the secret behind the mysterious dagger and book that his kind hunted. I should have ransacked the place the first time he left me alone here, but I couldn’t do it. To forsake his trust would be to forsake my honor. And I loved him. I did not have it in me to betray him. I would uncover the identity of the dagger and book with my honor intact.

When I was alone here, the house had a hollow echo, a hungry feel to it. The empty halls and lavishly decorated rooms were so void of life that I roamed just to fill the spaces with my footsteps, breath, and voice. The high ceilings provided lovely acoustics and it seemed to me that the manor was meant for music. I would sing through the halls, saving a different song for each room, until the house became some fragmented reflection of a home.

I wouldn’t always sing happy songs. Sometimes I sang about being lonely, and when I became so, I returned to Nathaniel’s cottage on the outskirts of London. He never fretted over my absences, which often stretched for days, because I’d always been a bit of a nomad. I was nearing a century in age and for my entire life, I’d never stayed in one location for too long. I got restless, as I did when I stayed with Bastian. I enjoyed being around him, but I was free to come and go as I pleased, and I took full advantage of that right.

On the evening of Bastian’s return from his latest excursion, I was singing again, and when I sensed his arrival, I began to dance. His familiar presence, though demonic, stirred something in me, gave my bones a bounce to them. The front door opened and footsteps shuffled in and I twirled down the hall toward him, singing my song about a doe wandering through a garden, but when I saw his face I halted abruptly with my skirts fluttering around my legs.

It was not Bastian who had arrived, but his son, Cadan. He smelled of horses and his boots and breeches had traces of mud on them. His expression was filled with the same amusement that often seemed to gleam in Bastian. His eyes, fixed on me, were light in color from a distance, but this close to him I could see flecks of red and violet flames flickering in their jewel-like depths.

“I’m sorry,” he said, surprising me with his apology. “I expected Bastian to have returned by now. I didn’t think anyone else would be here.”

“I thought you were him.” I felt my cheeks burning violently with embarrassment. I’d just bounded into the room, singing and dancing like a little girl. He could only think that I was entirely mad.

His gaze broke and flitted absently around the room as a little smile formed on his mouth. He was easily as beautiful as Bastian, but where Bastian’s appearance was striking darkness, Cadan’s light hair and eyes reminded me of a snowfall on a sunny afternoon. Mistaking Cadan for Bastian wasn’t terribly far-fetched. Their powers felt very similar to me. Still, Cadan had never before rushed to his father’s home to greet him upon arrival. “You …” he said, and trailed off for a moment. He licked his lips as his crooked smile widened in one corner of this mouth. “You have a lovely singing voice. The songbirds must envy you.”

“Oh, not right now, I’m certain,” I grumbled in return. “What a fool I must look like.”

“You’re not a fool,” he said. “Happiness is a great improvement to our world.”

I wasn’t sure if he meant the entire world or the world of the demonic, but I laughed anyway. “If you insist. You just caught me singing and dancing by myself. I’m a little mortified.”

He shook his head and drew closer. “Don’t be. If you manage to get Bastian doing the same, I’d rob the queen’s jewel chest for you in gratitude. He could do with a more lighthearted disposition.”

“For the queen’s jewels, I’d be willing to give it a go,” I said. “What if I fail?”

His handsome features twisted into a funny knot as he considered my question. “Then I will have to join you and we will sing and dance and be lighthearted together.”

I smiled at him despite myself, and gave him a nod in agreement. “We’ve got a deal.”

An awkward, momentary silence fell between us as the joke seemed to die. Thankfully, Cadan leaped to the rescue before the situation got too uncomfortable. “I haven’t come early, have I? He’s due before this dawn, correct?”

“That was my understanding. I have to admit I’m surprised to see you here to greet him. Did you have a meeting? I don’t mean to impose.”

“No, no,” he stammered, his gaze breaking from mine again. “I was to … report to him … concerning … matters.”

Meaning he was not at ease with sharing his purpose with me. “Matters,” I repeated. “I see. I can be on my way. It’s no tr—”

That instant I sensed the arrival of the real Bastian and when I noticed Cadan’s shoulders tense and bunch together, I understood that he’d sensed his father as well. I gauged Cadan’s reaction, the way his entire body responded in fear. His face remained a canvas of blank emotion, but his hands were shaking. When he saw that I noticed, he balled them into fists, and even that couldn’t mask his dread.

The creak of Bastian’s carriage and the hoofbeats of the horses pulling it slowed to a stop. When he at last appeared through the doorway, I was too unnerved to leap into his arms, though I longed to. I’d missed him and it was clear that he was happy to see me. He swept me close, wrapping an arm around my waist. I cupped his cheeks in my hands, smoothed my thumbs over the few days’ worth of stubble on his jaw, and he kissed me. I’d also missed the softness of his lips on mine and the taste of his breath and skin. He buried his face into my neck, breathing in my scent as he held me close.