Page 20

Blast, how long would it take before Punk noticed that she’d lost me?

The garter around my thigh tightened as I shifted, the fairytale acorn jiggling. I fisted my cape to keep my knuckles steady. Could I sweet-talk this guard? Without him seeing much of my face or suspecting me? I could pretend to be a lady-in-waiting or a lost servant. In my mind, I went through a list of verbal arsenal, trying to come up with the right lie if I had to approach him.

A grumble of interest broke from his mouth. He stared at the opposite wall to my right, but he looked intent now. As if he’d caught on to something.

Following his gaze, I saw a shape materialize on the surface, lit by the night sky pouring through the high windows. In that screen of silvery light, the shadow bounced, resembling a raptor.

For sure, it couldn’t be Punk. Not at that size and not without her razor head.

But where was this other winged creature? Large avians didn’t just roam the castle freely. Even the watch hawks were restricted to the outdoors.

The bird contorted, snapping into the stocky body of a quail. And a second later, it extended its limbs, strutting like a stork. And then it shrank into a finch.

I blinked. What the...?

The man twisted in confusion. Like him, my gaze jumped all over the wall.

“Psst,” came a voice. “Psst.”

I followed the sound, my eyes landing on a pair of brilliant green eyes. Across the floor, from between the balustrade spokes, those irises sparkled like jewels despite the dark. How was it possible to see the color from here? They seemed to radiate, not needing the sun to shine.

My shoulders tensed. That gaze fixed on me, gleaming with curiosity and friendliness. On all fours, I inched closer.

An eager face sprung from the dark. My jaw unlocked.

The boy was about my age. Or actually, a tad younger.

I tilted my head. It was hard to tell, but he appeared to have dark hair. And his face! I felt my eyes swell into walnut shells, though they would never match the size of his saucers. They leapt from him without effort, two bulbs ringed in grass, the sort of shade that I imagined came from the Spring Kingdom.

Nature had carved his features into a fairytale all his own. He could have been pixie, if beings like that actually existed.

His facial features were slanted out of proportion, disrupted in some way. Like he’d been shaken and the whole structure had unhinged.

This was not the face of a common person. It was...it was almost like...

My mouth snapped shut as I realized: a simpleton.

A type of “born fool.” Or that’s what people called those of a skewed mind. I’d seen this once before, in my quarter of town, and the person’s appearance had made others shy away in discomfort.

Not me. I liked the uniqueness.

We studied each other. Even with my hood, the dimness, and the distance, I had the feeling he could see bits and pieces of my woodskin, because he beamed.

The night swallowed his body, so that I could only see him from the neck up, plus the hill of one shoulder. The boy—the young man—lifted his arms, straining and bending his fingers into a warped position. What was he doing?

He gave an impish grin and manipulated his digits, another finch hopping across the wall. A shadow puppet!

Very naughty. Very impressive.

The guard’s footsteps hustled this way and that.

My lips quirked, my tongue pressing into my teeth. Were this stranger a member of my circle, I wouldn’t need to appraise his nerve or worth. He’d passed that test already.

On impulse, I raised my own hands and gnarled them into a vulture, pecking the finch’s teeny rump. In reply, the finch pecked back.

His puppet fluttered, mine showed it talons.

His tapped its feet in a jig, mine rippled its grisly plumage.