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Or they might come back. They might find some clue later and come back. They might come back for him, or for that tiny prize that I’d pilfered from the castle.

Or Mother might find Nicu. She might give his whereabouts away.

The longer he stayed here, the greater that possibility.

Stashing Nicu in the shed until who knew when smacked of nonsense. He couldn’t subsist in this hole with no other purpose, for an unknown amount of time. He wanted to flee. He’d said I needed to bolt as well, to seek the core of the fairytale: the way to fix Mother. To try for it, at least.

But heading into the forest? Beating a hasty retreat into woodland territory, which could still make us a vulnerable target? All of that, so Nicu could have a taste of independence? So I could follow a hunch?

In order to reachthatplace?

Assuming we even made it there. Unless we kept to uncharted terrain, we’d be noticed. My woodskin. Nicu’s ailment. It spelled disaster.

At the news of the knights’ departure, Nicu’s fright melted into an optimistic twinkle. “Let’s tumble-weed.”

I pursed my lips. “Listen. If we do this, we need ground rules. First, you’re embarking on this insane trip of your own free will—no blaming me to Queen and Country later. Second, don’t ever repeat anything I say. Not one snitch, understand?”

“Why?”

“Because we might get caught. If we do, repeating what I’ve told you about the acorn could get me hacked to pieces. Never tell anyone—anyone—that I’ve taken the thing. Got it?”

“But it’s gone.” Though it sounded like he didn’t know for sure. “They’ll see it’s gone...won’t they?”

“I took care of that.” I waved my fingers. “I gave them another acorn; they won’t know the difference.”

I hoped. I prayed.

Sometimes Mother’s commissions included replicas. Over her shoulder, I liked to pay attention as she worked, the soul of wood and the reconfiguration of it luring me in. It had helped me recreate both the stick key and the third acorn.

Nicu said, “Mama and Papa wouldn’t hack you to pieces.”

“It’s nice that you think so, but I have doubts.”

“They wouldn’t because Aire would do it before then.”

I got a vision of the First Knight gripping his sword, the blade’s edge grazing my collar, my lungs stuttering with every sharp caress.

Would he tie me up first?

I clipped the stupid fantasy of its strings. When Nicu’s mouth bunched, withholding mirth, I plunked my fists on my hips. “Was that a jest?”

“The First Knight makes you pink.” Because I had no words for that, the young man lifted a naughty brow. “He’s bewitched your cheeks and neck.”

My woodskin heated, probably staining me with a blush. “You’ve never seen us together.”

“I saw his eyes hunt for you in the training yard, and I see your eyes now. He makes youverypink.”

“Yes. Angry pink,” I snarled.

“Nope,” he contested. “Tickled pink. Aroused pink.”

“Quit while you’re ahead, Royal.”

“You make him pink, too.”

Oh? A wily grin might have surfaced. I dipped my chin, my voice betraying coyness. “Yeah? How?”

Nicu opened his mouth. I shook myself. “Never mind how. He’s out of the question and out of range. We need to make sure it stays that way.”