When Evie opened the door, the air warmed all around her.
Instead of a floor on the other side, she stepped onto nothing and fell, tumbling head over heels until she hit something hard, as if she’d been dropped there like cookie dough from a spoon. There was a table over her head, little table scraps crusting the floor, a newly lit fire struggling to take hold in the logs on the opposite wall, and …
Dr. Cleat, lying on the floor, his body still limp, a pool of broken glass and smelly rum a few feet past him. She could barely see his chest rise and fall with each breath. There was a man sitting next to the fire, his feet propped up on a stool and a cigar clenched between his teeth. The Robber Lord sitting in the kitchen they’d climbed out of only ten minutes earlier.
Where did the others go? Evie immediately thought it, then bit her lip, wondering if the Fel could still hear her.
“They’re safe. They’re not here.”
Breathing out, Evie found herself relieved to be still talking to the Fel, the oversized bird a welcome presence with Gisa and Max suddenly gone. He didn’t seem very happy in his cage, maybe just as unhappy as Cece must be.
“Bring me tea.” The Robber Lord picked up the fire iron and grumpily poked at the guttering flames, though it was obvious he didn’t know much about making a fire bigger rather than smothering it. Evie looked around, wondering who he was talking to. “With extra honey, just like the last time you made it for the Fel.” The Robber Lord put up a hand. “And no more dumping in a whole cup of sugar. I’m mad enough as it is.”
A long skirt trudged into sight. The girl wearing it had two long red braids that fell clear past her waist. She hopped over the smelly pool of rum and offered the man a cup of tea.
Evie gasped. Cecily. Here. In the robbers’ kitchen. She hadn’t been here before! Was this some other kitchen, another place …
“No tricks. She’s only allowed out when they let her. The door took you right to her because that was what you wanted. I was afraid it would take you home.” The Fel seemed to be whispering, if it could be called that, as if he was afraid of being heard too. “But you wanted to save Cecily more. I’m glad, because you still haven’t given me the tart.”
“What did you do to him?” Cece asked, holding out a platter with tea and ugly little scones that looked as if they’d been made from dirt and perhaps a bit of sour butter. “Aren’t you supposed to be stealing a crown or something?”
“What’s it to you, Cecily? Changing on us and chumming up to the witch doctor?”
“I’m not chumming up to any of you,” Cecily sputtered, walking over to Evie’s table and setting her tray on top of it. Evie could have reached out and grabbed her ankle. It would have been a marvelous prank, if it came down to it, but not the appropriate time by Evie’s gauge. “Evie will get the guard to come. I know she will.”
She’s walking about free, not in chains. Why is she still here? Evie thought. But then she remembered what the Fel had said about not letting her leave. How can you make her stay when she isn’t with you all the time? You can’t see her. She thought it right at the Fel, as if he was there before her instead of sitting in his cage down the hall. The Fel King couldn’t see the robber he talked to me through either. How are you doing that?
“There’s a new kind of bond we Fel figured out. It’s a bigger one with one human that makes the deal in the middle, but other people can agree to be a part of it in a web around them. I’m connected to the Fel King, and we managed to make him a part of it too, so he sees and is part of it inside the city. Everyone in the web came to me and made a bargain to be a part of it—even Cece, though she didn’t want to. I can see through everyone on the web, so I can do magic wherever they go. I can use them like the Fel King used the robber to talk to you. I can stop everyone on the web or make them do exactly as I wish … It’s not really a fair bargain, but the Robber Lord made it sound good to them.”
Evie shuddered, the idea of a web of magic reaching from the Old Forest to Reinstadt to the south and beyond a truly terrifying idea.
“Cece’s the only one who thought of a good side to her bargain when she joined, though. Most of them just ask for money and food and castles and things I can only say maybe to,” the Fel continued.
“What was her bargain?”
“She said she would join if I let her write to you and make sure the letters got delivered. Nothing that would give the Robber Lord away, of course; that would be going against my deal with him.” The Fel’s voice changed, turning soggier than wet bread. “I wish you were my friend. Then you’d do all this to save me too. If you set me free, I could stop the robbers, just like the little prince wants. They’re all a part of the bond, so I could stop them all. Unless they’re carrying hartelismi.”
Evie closed her eyes, thinking hard. The Fel couldn’t lie, so what he said must then be true. But how was she supposed to set him free? When she opened her eyes, Dr. Cleat’s boot twitched as if he was beginning to wake up. Cece was closer to the robber now, holding out a loaf of stale bread. Evie frowned. Even Cece couldn’t possibly expect him to eat something so gross.
“You know, I heard a story about a robber once,” Cece said.
“Not as many as you’ll hear about me this time next year,” the Robber Lord replied. “There’ll be songs and plays and maybe even one of those fancy tarts named after me. The new king.”
He wants to be king? Evie thought. With his new Fel to protect him, just the way the Fel King protects Queen Beatris?
She squinted at him, looking for hints that only months ago the robber was a Fel, crow-shaped and brimming with magic. She couldn’t find any clues other than a few dark, maybe feather-shaped spots across his face and hands, but she was fairly certain they were dirt.
“I just wondered if you’d like to hear my story.” Cece sounded as if she was smiling, a sort of singsong in her voice, the kind that Mum only used when Evie was up too late and refusing to go to sleep. “The robber stole a queen’s crown. He needed magic and an ugly black blade or he was too scared to set foot outside his house.”
The witch doctor started to twitch on the floor, his eyelids pinching shut.
If I set you free, you’d help me get Cece out of here safely? How do I do it? Evie asked in her head, clutching Max’s ring to her chest as she waited for the Fel’s answer. It didn’t come.
“I’ve heard enough of your stories, girl.” The Robber Lord shoved the fire iron into the sadly flickering coals so it stood up straight, as if this would somehow fix the choking embers. “At least after this we won’t have to eat your horrible cooking anymore. Or deal with the Robber Lord’s nonsense.”
A jolt went through Evie’s stomach. The Robber Lord. Wasn’t this cigar-smoking man the Robber Lord? He kicked one of the pie tins, sending it skittering under the table just next to Evie. She picked it up. “Don’t know why the Robber Lord thought different pans would help, anyway. Not one bit of this has been edible, not even suited for the pigs. But he won’t stop trying.”
Cecily knelt down to fish the fallen pie tin out from under the table, which was when she saw Evie holding it out to her.
Cece’s eyes bulged from her head, almost enough for Evie to worry they would pop out. If the only thing keeping Cecily from escaping was Fel magic, Evie could take care of that by giving her Max’s ring. The Fel had said he wanted to help Evie, and no matter who the Robber Lord was, he didn’t know Evie was there, so he couldn’t tell the Fel to make her into a puppet or turn all hollow like the robber in Captain Garry’s office had. She pulled Max’s ring from her thumb and mimed throwing it to Cece. “On three!” she mouthed.
Cece sat up slowly, keeping her humble pose on her knees. Evie couldn’t be sure Cece had understood, fear a frantic buzz inside her. The fake Robber Lord sat back in his chair, tearing into the loaf of stale bread Cece had brought him from the table. Cece didn’t have a clear view of Evie any longer, but Evie could see her hands. She put up one finger, as if she were tracing something across her skirt.
Evie watched, hoping. Cece put up two fingers. She had understood! As the third finger came up, Evie tossed the ring toward her.
It landed in Cece’s lap. Her eyes went wide when her fingers closed around the ring, and her shoulders straightened as if a great weight was lifted from them. The Fel magic keeping her here couldn’t touch her when she had hartelismi.
The fake Robber Lord didn’t seem to notice when she stood up, the man still rambling away about the kingdom and maids and gold and Fel. He did, however, notice when she picked up one of the stone-hard loaves of bread and hit him in the side of the head.
Evie sprang from her hiding place and shoved over the chair he was sitting in, dropping him right into the huge pie tin sitting in the fireplace’s guttering flames, and then she grabbed the long fire iron shoved down into the coals. Swearing, the robber struggled to get out from the deep pan until Evie leveled the red-glowing fire iron with his nose.
“How did you get in here?” The robber gulped, biting down hard on his cigar as he stared cross-eyed at the weapon.
“Get one of the torches, Cece!” Evie cried, pointing to the rum-soaked floor. At least Dr. Cleat was close enough to the door to be clear of it. They’d have to come back for him with more of the guard.
Cecily ripped one of the torches the robbers had brought in from the wall and shoved it at Evie. Pulling her friend toward the door, Evie threw the torch down into the pool of rum, which ignited between them and the robber with a roar. Cece startled back, her hands pressing against her cheeks.
“Run, Cece!” Evie darted out into the hall, Cece close behind her.
Another robber came running at the noise. He blocked their way out with a snarl. Evie crashed straight into him, remembering how well her elbows had worked on the fake Robber Lord all those months ago. She managed to get past him, but the man grabbed hold of her apron strings, hauling her back.
“You really think little girls like you can take down a man like me?” The fake Robber Lord stood, stumbling out of the deep pie pan and across the scorched floor toward them. The flare of oak flambé had already died down. “The only reason you’re still alive is—”
A resounding clang echoed through the room. The fake Robber Lord’s grim tirade cut off and his eyes shifted to stare at something behind Evie. The robber holding Evie let go of her, her apron strings falling slack as he tumbled to the floor. Evie turned to find Cecily with a tarnished dinner platter still raised in the air over his head.
The two girls brandished their weapons at the fake Robber Lord, Cecily with her platter and Evie with the fire iron. He put his hands up, his mouth falling open. His cigar fell from his lips and rolled toward Evie, still smoldering and red against the hardwood floor.
She stepped on it, putting it out. But why had he given up so easily?
“You thrice-cursed, ugly monster of a Fel friend…” Cecily’s voice was raw and angry.
“Come on, Cecily.” Evie ran, making it clear to the entryway before she realized Cecily wasn’t following her. The Fel crow’s cage swung wildly over her head as the bird threw himself against the rotted bars over and over, his croaky crow voice screeching away. But there were no words in her head. No singsongy messages, no humming. Not even a plea for the raspberry tart still squished in her pocket. Evie slowly turned back toward the dim flicker of torches coming from the kitchen.
Cecily hadn’t been swearing at the fake Robber Lord. She stood in the doorway, the hallway’s long shadows sunk deep into her face. Dr. Cleat was standing behind her holding a long, black-bladed knife to her throat.