Beau gripped the edges of the chair. His sightless eyes darted toward Hunter Black’s voice. His fingers curled. He was going to do something stupid, she knew it. Something brave.
“Be the damsel in distress for once in your life,” she whispered to him. “Let me save you.”
“Cabbage, no.” But without sight, he couldn’t stop her, and they both knew it.
She turned to Hunter Black. She could hear Cricket and Petra fighting December on the ground floor. Beyond the windows, snow was falling. Clouds were low and dark on the horizon, as though the world itself were angry.
Smoke poured out of Hunter Black’s mouth as he whispered phrases in a language even more ancient than the Selentium Vox. Before she could think, he rushed at her.
“Sokdet!” She threw up her hands in a sweeping gesture. The spell pulled the rug out from under him and he was flung backward, though at the last moment he torqued his body and landed in a crouch. He sprang up and threw a high kick at her ear. She dodged it and pivoted out of his range, sucking in a quick breath while she could.
Viggo, hiding behind the checkout counter, popped up long enough to hurl a shoe at him. It bounced off the assassin’s back harmlessly, but it did cause him to turn with a growl, giving Anouk a rare opening.
“Cessa-col!”
Her spell enchanted Hunter Black’s boots and made them stick to the floor. As soon as he tried to take a step, he lost his balance and toppled over into a mountain of shoeboxes. Couture shoes tumbled all over the floor. He kicked out of his boots and stood barefoot. He came toward her with a growl but tripped on a Bergdorf heel, giving Anouk time to cast another spell.
“Versik, versik sa . . .”
But she cut off her own spell before speaking the final word. A bleeding spell could kill him. The same with a cutting spell, a burning spell, a transmutation spell. She didn’t want to kill Hunter Black. Her mind scrolled through other options, something to merely incapacitate . . .
He took advantage of her moment of hesitation. He spun into a roundhouse turn that brought him close enough to grab her calf. She cried out and jerked back, but his grip was like a vise. He gave a sharp tug and she fell over. He dragged her closer as she screamed and clawed at the floor.
He reached for her throat with bleeding hands. From behind the cash register, Viggo threw a pair of sneakers at him, then a boot, but the shoes only bounced off his shoulders and tumbled to the floor. Anouk swallowed. What choice did she have but to use a fatal spell?
She opened her mouth . . .
Hunter Black drew back a fist and, before she could get out another whisper, slammed it into the side of Anouk’s head.
She crashed backward against the floor. Pain radiated through her skull. She clutched her jaw, which felt terrifyingly loose. She coughed and tried to whisper the spell.
“Armur ver . . .”
It didn’t work. She edged back, still clutching her jaw. It was broken! With the fractured bones, she couldn’t speak in the right tone. For a moment, panic filled her. She’d taken a risky journey to the Cottage, she’d agreed to a dangerous marriage, she’d faced turning back into an animal, she’d faced almost certain death in the Coal Baths, she’d even sacrificed Saint, and now, with one punch, Hunter Black had taken everything from her.
He loomed over her so fast that she barely had time to think. His eyes were devastatingly blank. She knew, in that moment, there was no pleading with a force that couldn’t be reasoned with. The Noirceur was going to use her friend to kill her.
She spared a last look at Beau. He was out of the chair and on all fours, trying to feel his way across the floor to help her, but Viggo crawled out from behind the counter and grabbed him, holding him back. Finally Viggo was good for something.
“Anouk!” Beau cried.
She wanted to answer. Tell him she loved him. Tell him that if life was a fairy tale, he was her heart’s greatest desire. But only unintelligible words came from her broken jaw.
Just as Hunter Black raised another fist, someone else started whispering.
“Armur ver, armur ex, armur nime.”
Anouk whipped her head toward the sound. Petra! The witch raced across the marble floor with the whisper on her lips, the same spell Anouk had tried and failed to cast. With her shock of red hair and black coat simmering with live embers, she looked every bit the vicious and formidable Ash Witch. Hard to believe it was the same girl they’d found on the side of the road taking out the recycling in ripped jeans.
The sheer force of Petra’s spell shoved Hunter Black backward, threw him twenty feet across the floor, and pinned him against the balcony railing. Petra held both hands out, palms directed at Hunter Black, continuing the whisper to hold him there.
“Anouk!”
Cricket was behind Petra, using ropes made of clothing to cross the detached staircase. Rennar was with her. He held a scrap of fabric that looked like December’s pocket—he must have helped them break the Goblin’s possession. Rennar took one look at the scene and strode to Petra’s side to take over the difficult spell. As soon as he had Hunter Black trapped against the railing, Petra fell back, gasping for air.
Cricket fell to her knees by Anouk. “Are you okay?”
Anouk pushed herself up, still holding her jaw.
“December?” she choked out.
Cricket nodded. “She’s okay. Rennar finished clearing Westminster and came looking for you. We got the button out of December’s pocket. Lucky for us there was a time slip in the gelato department. Rennar unfroze it and we threw in the button before it could possess us. December is groggy, but she’s coming back to herself. What happened to your jaw?”
Anouk gestured to Hunter Black. Rennar had him pinned against the balcony railing so hard that black tears were streaking down his cheeks.
Viggo finally let Beau go, and Beau crawled across the marble floor in the direction of their voices. Anouk clambered toward him. She grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him into a hug. “Cabbage,” he whispered. His arms were holding her as though he never wanted to let her go. “Gargoyle. Princess.” His hands ran along her back and her arms, as though he were reassuring himself she was still in one piece, but when he reached for her jaw, she pulled back sharply.
His eyebrows came together. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”
Cricket explained about Anouk’s jaw.
“Well, tell Rennar to heal it!” Beau cried. “He’s your husband—he has to be good for something!” But every ounce of Rennar’s magic was aimed at keeping Hunter Black pinned to the balcony railing. When Beau heard Rennar’s whispers, he cursed. “Petra. Get Petra. She can do it.”
Anouk and Cricket turned toward Petra, who was slumped in the leather armchair they’d dragged down for Beau, still trying to catch her breath.
“Can you heal her?” Cricket asked.
Petra leaned forward, nodding amid heaving breaths. “Yes, if we can get more lavender ash, but at the moment we have bigger problems.” She pointed to the domed window. Beyond the glass was the familiar city skyline. Anouk’s head was doing strange wobbly things from pain and exhaustion, and she let out something like a delirious laugh when she realized what Petra meant.
“What is it?” Beau cried.
For a moment, none of them could bear to answer. Cricket finally said in a dark tone, “It’s stopped snowing. Duke Karolinge must have given up. Or . . . he’s dead.”
Anouk sank back on her heels. She closed her eyes. Her heart was beating too fast, pumping blood so hard that she was afraid she might pass out. Awful images filled her head. The Duke dead on the museum roof. The mummies stirring back to life. The entire city thawing. Storms of toads. Time loops out of control. Pretties screaming.
When she opened her eyes and looked more closely out the window, she started shaking. Just like in her worst fears, the city was thawing. In fits and jerks, the world restarted. Tires began to spin. Cars honked endlessly. Sidewalks rumbled and split apart, and people caught in the rift plunged to their demise. Giant waves swelled up from the Thames, swallowing Pretties whole.
Anouk pressed her palm against her mouth.“Pas possible.”
Big Ben stood tall, the clock hands still moving, the only thing that wasn’t caught up in the chaos around it. The Royals and Goblins below desperately hurled spells at the encroaching time slips, but their magic only vanished into the chaos.
“The city’s going to fall apart.” Cricket spun away from the windows, pacing. “Space and time are literally fracturing. We’ll be lucky to have five minutes left before it all ends. Anouk, you have to get down there. Prince Aleksi can heal your jaw. You have to stop the Noirceur.”
Anouk felt like a kettle left too long on the stove, burning and boiling and then ruined and empty. Wincing through the pain, she muttered, “If we . . . trap the Noirceur, it’ll kill . . . Hunter Black!”
“Not if he isn’t possessed anymore,” Viggo said quietly.
She’d almost forgotten about Viggo. During the whole fight with Hunter Black and Saint and December, he’d been a distraction at best, an encumbrance at worse, managing only to throw a few shoes as he cowered behind the cash register. But there was an odd look on his face now. His eyes shone like he was drunk, but for once he hadn’t had a sip.
His eyes shifted to Hunter Black, still pinned to the railing by Prince Rennar’s steady whisper. He took a few quick steps toward the balcony. No one realized what he was thinking until it was too late. He ripped the last glass button off Hunter Black’s shirt. An awful hiss emerged from somewhere deep in Hunter Black’s throat. Smoke poured out of his mouth. His body began to convulse. His eyes began to clear.
Viggo palmed the button. “Rennar, unfreeze another time slip!”
But Rennar was whispering with all his focus. Petra cried out, “There aren’t any up here, you idiot! Only the one downstairs, and you’ll never make it in time.”
Viggo went pale. His hand curled around the button. Quietly, as though reciting something from a dream, he said, “Where you go, I go, my friend. But where I go, you can’t follow. Not this time.” In a quick movement, he swallowed it. All the smoke started pouring into him instead, into his eyes, his ears, his throat. Cricket’s mouth fell open. The spell froze on Rennar’s lips.
Anouk took a halting step forward. “Viggo . . . don’t!”
It was too late. Hunter Black, free of the possession, blinked, dazed and disoriented. He cleared his throat. His eyes narrowed, confused. “Viggo?”
Viggo rested a hand on his shoulder. His face had gone completely white. “I’m sorry. It’s horrid. But this is the only way.”
Hunter Black couldn’t stop Viggo in time. None of them could. A second before the possession fully consumed Viggo, when he was still himself enough to think straight, he tipped himself over the balcony railing and plunged five stories down.