Two girls. Two secrets.
Only one can survive.
Years before Nelle Wychthorn plans her escape, Tabitha Catt may unearth something in a Horned God's lair that is the key to freedom.
Desperate to save her beloved aunt from a dark curse, Tabitha is out t...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Shaking my head at Florin and his utter stubbornness, I swung back to slit the pastry open and stuff the pieces of roadkill into the croissant. Hopping down from the footstool, I offered it to the Horned God. He placed his quill away and eagerly reached for the treat. His tongue licked out and ran across his lip, mouth watering, as his talons wrapped around the flaky pastry. "Raccoon, my favorite."
I went back to work, hacking away at the squirrel and what was left of the opossum, while Florin made loud contented noises as he chewed.
Leaving the croissants on the edge of his writing desk, I went into the small room out the back, washed my hands with soap and frigid water that ran down the stone wall into a basin, dried them on a towel, and then headed back into the office. I opened up my black leather bag and got out my tools of trade—my duster and shammy cloth and bottle of glass cleaner—and quickly set about cleaning the office, I'd already lost an hour.
As I dusted the long shelf of past ledgers, I thought Florin might be able to help me with one of my puzzles. I spoke airily as if not concerned, brushing the feathers of the duster down leather spines. "I came across a name in a book in the Deniauds' library. Perhaps you might know the creature. Yezekael?"
Florin tipped his head to the side, taking his time thinking about it while he finished his mouthful. "I've met Yezekael a few times. He deals in secrets and information, sometimes purchasing something on another's behalf." He shrugged a broad shoulder. "He just wants the usual thing."
"And what is that?"
"Something it is not. More than what it is."
What kind of deal had the thing inside my aunt done with Yezekael? What trade had they agreed upon? What had that thing promised it?
"What does he look like?" I asked, just as Florin took another bite from the croissant with sharp teeth.
He mumbled around the mouthful. "An ugly winged lesser creature."
It wasn't much to go on. "Any other description you could give me?"
"Ugly," he grunted, chewing noisily.
Everyone was ugly to Florin, including me. "Where does Yezekael live?"
"I don't know," Florin growled, annoyed. "I didn't care to ask him for personal details. I don't care for chit-chat, you know that."
I raised my eyebrows, pointedly, because that was somewhat offensive.
He sighed, waving a taloned hand at me. "Present company excluded, of course."
"Of course." Except, I thought as I squinted suspiciously at him, he often fell asleep on me when I got to chit-chatting. Or he'd yawn and tell me how much my little servant's job and my little servant's life bored him.
Realizing that was all I was going to get from the Horned God, I tucked away my cleaning tools into the black leather bag, and from my personal handbag slipped out an old book that I'd borrowed from the Deniauds' library. Well, I suppose stole might be the right term since I'd never returned it. Someone long ago had begun the book, noting and detailing otherworldly creatures, the smaller insignificant kind like the Pix and Brunnies and the larvae of the Spryte.
