Irritated by his unhelpfulness, Truly threw him a dirty look.

“For the love of all that is holy,” Earl huffed, tossing the skillet at Westvane. As he caught the cast iron handle, her new chef grabbed Priestly by the wings. Creepy-crawling, hind-end swiveling, he hauled the Electi beneath the swaying chandelier. “I’ll see to it.”

“Where are you taking him?” she asked, turning the tawny feather over in her hand.

“The dungeon,” Earl said, pushing against the wood paneling. Hinges creaked. A secret door swung opened. With a grunt, he disappeared over the threshold with Priestly in tow.

“I have a dungeon?”

“So it would seem, princess.”

“All right… well,” she said, gaze on the secret door, unsure what to think. “That’s handy, I guess.”

Westvane chuckled.

The lovely sound rippled through her. Her annoyance with him faded. She took heart as it did, understanding for the first time what real progress looked like. For a lethal warrior who wanted to kill everyone he met, Westvane was coming along. And honestly…

The thought gave her hope.

“The house left you a Grimoire. It’s on the table!” Earl yelled, disembodied voice rising above loud thumps as he dragged Priestly into the basement.

“A what?” she yelled back.

“Huge book! Thick. Old. Picture of a bridge on the front, and oh…” A grunt echoed up from down below, then, “Almost forgot — blueberry muffins ’re on the cooling rack on the kitchen counter!”

Glancing at Westvane, she raised a brow. “A bridge?”

“Homework,” he said, sounding amused. “No rest for the wicked, princess.”

Truly sighed. “I need a drink.”

“I’ll pour.” Jet-black feathers brushed her cheek as he walked past her.

Straightening the crumpled floor runner with the toe of her boot, she set the lamp back on the hall table and watched him stride toward the back of the house. Wings tucked tight to his back, he sent the kitchen door swinging, dipped his head beneath the lintel and entered Earl’s domain.

Slower to follow, Truly trailed behind, listening to the house breathe around her, feeling the hum of magic in her veins, aware the future stretched like an open field in front of her. She hoped the Grimoire filled in some holes. She didn’t like the gaps in her knowledge, or flying blind, but with Westvane on her side and change on the horizon, the future looked brighter than it had in while.

Her mind flipped through the possibilities as she made her way to the kitchen. Plans needed to be made. The details must be hammered out, allies identified and approached. So many angles to consider, but…

Later.

Neutralizing Lyonesse and the Yeomanry, along with the other problems plaguing the Mirror Kingdoms, would have to wait. So would reading the Grimoire, at least for a little while. Right now, she had fine whiskey to drink, Earl’s blueberry muffins to eat, and Westvane to get settled into his new home.