“Wait.”
Anouk’s head whipped around. Esme had spoken. She was starting to untie her own rope belt. “If the dog doesn’t get salve on those paws, he’ll lose them to frostbite just like she’ll lose her fingers. I’ll take them both to the infirmary and then she and I will put the dog in the cellar.”
Anouk felt a rush of gratitude. If Beau had to be locked away, at least it wouldn’t be by a stranger, and she’d have a few more minutes with him.
The Duke shrugged. “As you wish.”
Esme finished untying her rope belt and started to fasten it around Little Beau’s neck, but Anouk shook her head. “He doesn’t need a leash. He’ll follow me.”
“Even to a locked stall?”
Anouk flinched, thinking of Cricket and Hunter Black and Luc locked up in Rennar’s cages. “He’ll follow me anywhere.”
Esme shrugged and motioned for Anouk to follow her down a corridor that led off the back of the great hall. The other girls were silent, but Anouk felt energy brimming just under the surface—she knew as soon as she left the room, they’d talk about her and Little Beau. The storm-cloud girl, who had moved from all fours to sitting cross-legged on the floor, twirled the remnants of the vine between her fingers.
Anouk shivered. She was so distracted that she didn’t see the three other girls who had popped up from the lower staircase until she practically ran into one of them. The girl giggled. The three of them wore matching dresses and the same expressions of curiosity. The one Anouk had nearly trampled looked about twelve years old and had long blond hair pulled back into a braid. The other two were older; one had a shaggy bob, the other a mop of brown curls and red cheeks. Their aprons were streaked with potato peels.
“Hey! Scamper back to the kitchen, you three. You can meet the new girl tomorrow,” Esme said.
But their eyes were on Little Beau, not Anouk, and the three of them were already making silly little noises to entice him over so they could scratch his head. Esme shooed them away and then opened a door to a glass-enclosed breezeway. The cloistered arches were encased in glass, which kept out the wind, though Anouk still had to hug herself for warmth. Beyond the glass, the storm howled.
“Forgive them,” Esme said. “It’s been a long time since any of us have seen a dog. The goats don’t make good pets, and we aren’t allowed to touch the Duke’s falcons—especially Saint, the one back there.”
Anouk’s boots echoed eerily in the hallway. “Is he very cruel?”
Esme gave her a surprised look. “The Duke?”
Anouk thrust her hand deep into her pants pocket and clasped Rennar’s mirror. “I’ve known more than my fair share of Royals,” Anouk explained darkly. “They’re as cruel as they are beautiful.”
Countess Quine. Lord and Lady Metham. Any of them would have betrayed Anouk at the drop of a hat. And that was just the Parisian Court. She’d heard rumors of the other Courts: The Crimson Court, with its three ruling sisters. The Court of the Wood, run by the imposing Baron Winter. The Court of Isles, the Barren Court . . . She’d meet some of them soon enough, she imagined. Representatives from each Court would, according to tradition, journey to the Cottage at wintertide to witness the Coal Baths. She’d have more than Rennar to deal with.
“I wouldn’t call the Duke beautiful.” Esme snorted before adding offhandedly, “I wouldn’t call him cruel either.” They reached a door at the end of the cloistered hallway, and Esme paused, her hand on the iron knob. “He’s reserved. Cold, even. He doesn’t get close to any of us. Can you blame him? He advises girls for the better part of a year, gets to know their dreams, and then watches almost all of them die. Every year for hundreds of years, he’s done this. Considering that, I’d say he’s agreeable enough.”
Anouk stared at Esme in disbelief. Had he twisted their minds to think he was a simple academic? That he had their best interests at heart? That he wouldn’t sell their souls for a good bottle of Pinot Noir? Or maybe even a bad one?
“By the way,” Esme said, “that’s a great jacket. It’s a shame you’ll have to take it off. If you haven’t noticed, we all wear the same thing. This awful frock. The Duke says uniforms help us focus.”
Anouk continued to stare at her. “It’s just . . . you can’t possibly trust him.” She touched her throat. “You saw how he took my magic. And before that, he was going to throw me back out into the storm.”
Esme stroked her chin. “I see how that might look cruel, but I promise, turning you away would have been a kindness.” Her face grew very serious. “Do you know what my first thought was when you came crashing through the window? Just another body for the fires. There are nine of us—ten, now that you’re here. We were ten before. There are always ten, every year, without any planning or anything; that’s just part of the Coals’ magic. But one girl left over the summer. She was frightened by the spirits in the woods. The Snow Children—I’m guessing you came across one of them? Most girls do, for better or worse. We were hoping she’d count as one of the ten and that another girl wouldn’t come to take her place. But here you are.”
Anouk hesitated. “That girl with the black hair . . .”
“Frederika.” Esme let out a puff of air as if to say that Anouk didn’t know the half of it. “Frederika’s wild. I don’t mean she’s a handful, I mean actually wild. She grew up in the Black Forest in a valley not far from here, raised by pagan Pretties. She’s mostly harmless, but the rest of us keep out of her way.” She eyed Anouk. “Hey, are you okay?”
Anouk noticed she was reeling slightly. She straightened and touched her cold lips. “I didn’t realize how warm my magic kept me, like a little fire always kindled in my chest. Without it, I feel so bare. Hungry. Cold.”
“Well, get used to it. I’ve been cold and hungry for nine months. The sisters back there, the redheads? Heida and Lise, from Munich. They’re the only ones who have been here longer than me. Marta—she’s the pretty one with glasses—arrived a week after me. The trio who popped up from the kitchen were Karla, Sam, and Jolie. They’re all from Ireland. Then there’s Lala, who arrived about two months ago. She’ll be your roommate. She keeps to herself, but she’s cool. Each of us learned about the Haute in our own way.”
“What was yours?”
“I made friends with a Goblin. I thought she was just a chick with weird clothes at the time. My father was a diamond trader. We met Skye while he and I were looking for a new supplier. She told me everything: Witches. Goblins. This place. Said if I was ever in trouble to come here and not to kiss any boys in the woods. I thought she was crazy.” Esme pressed her lips together tightly. “But two days later, we found Skye in our car. Throat slit. Soon after that, whoever killed her killed my parents too. I barely got away.”
“Did you think you’d be safe here?”
“Oh, no. Anyone who comes here looking for safety is making a terrible mistake.”
Chapter 9
Esme continued the tour and took Anouk to a room that might once have been a chapel, judging by the shape of the boarded-up windows. It was now filled with medical supplies. The infirmary wasn’t much to speak of, just a dreary stone chamber packed with dusty wooden drawers that smelled of salves and ointments. Several pairs of crutches were propped up in one corner. Two giant woven baskets were bursting with bandages, clean in one, bloodstained in the other.