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Yeah. Yeah, she would. She’d do her best, at any rate.

Anger replaced her terror and her grief. Anger and rage. She turned back to her father and stepped up to the edge of the table, the blacksmith’s hammer in her hand. She reached out and took his remaining hand. “I love you. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I am happy now. Can you see the clouds? Can you see them? Look—that one resembles a rabbit, does it not? How beautiful…”

As she brought the hammer down upon his golden skull, she heard him sigh in relief. And as she brought the blunt weapon down again and again until there was nothing but flecks of stone and bone…he never spoke again.

And all the while, Marguerite wept.

* * *

Rinaldo pulledhis gun as he heard the noise of something smashing. He gestured for Ally to stay put as he ran back to where he had left Maggie and the gold cemetery saint. But whatever had happened, he got there too late.

Maggie was walking away from the table, her cheeks wet with tears, her eyes red. She was trembling, and her steps were uneven as she staggered away from the scene behind her. A hammer was in her hand—some old relic from the shelves she must have found.

And behind her on the table…was a pile of bits of gold and dusty white bone, intermixed with jewels that had been smashed from their jeweler’s settings.

Rinaldo lowered his gun. Of all the things he expected to happen, that…wasn’t it. He blinked in astonishment at Maggie as the girl walked past him, half-heartedly handing him the blacksmith’s hammer as she did.

“I need a moment,” she muttered as she wandered away down the aisles.

Ally, not listening to his instructions as usual, rounded the corner, and together they watched the young woman walk away into the dark alleys of the vault.

* * *

She didn’t knowwhere she was going. She didn’t really care. Part of her wondered if she’d find any other bizarre memories from her past hiding between the dusty tomes and weird oddities. Algernon was on her shoulder, nuzzling her cheek, trying to cheer her up. She could only scoop him up and hug him close, kissing his head and accepting what little comfort he could offer her.

She had yet to stop crying.

Overwrought. That was what she was. She was too full of every kind of emotion she could have. Grief, anger, hatred, love…that had truly been her father. She was a princess—a real princess—well, a real bastard princess, at any rate. And the moment she had been reunited with him was the moment she had to say goodbye.

But she couldn’t leave him like that. Trapped in the dark, unable to move—unable to live or die. That wasn’t a way to exist. And it was her love that had forced her hand.

“You did the right thing, little beauty.”

She froze at the voice. She turned in the direction it had come from. There was an archway in the wall, another small corridor hidden between the rows and rows of dusty shelves that led into a dark chamber. She couldn’t see anything of what lay beyond. Only shadows. “Hello?”

“Hello…”

The voice was male. It was deep, and smooth like velvet. There was something about it that was extremely alluring—that wanted her to curl up against it like a fire on a cold winter’s night. Instantly, she didn’t trust it. She put Algernon back in her hood and narrowed her eyes. “What are you?”

The voice chuckled. “A prisoner. Same as he, same as you, same as so many who suffer this endless nightmare in chains. Come closer, little beauty, please. No one has looked upon me in so many years.”

“Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly.” She folded her arms across her chest.

That made the voice laugh in earnest. “So true! So very true. You are right. I am a monster, and not to be trusted. But to you, I pose no threat. To you, I only propose a bargain. Come here, please, and let me explain.”

“Just talk?”

“Just talk.”

She didn’t like how pleased the voice sounded. There was an inherent smugness to it that made her want to roll her eyes and walk away. Wiping at the last of her tears—hey, at least this weird conversation with some lurking monster was distracting her from her grief—she stepped into the archway. She fumbled for a light switch.

“To the left,” the voice prompted helpfully.

She tried not to snicker at how ridiculous that was. She flicked the switch, and a naked bulb overhead sputtered to life.

Maggie jumped back from what she saw. “Holy f—”