I nodded back at him. “This thief definitely would.”
I left the gloves in the bag, although I fished the chopsticks out of the plastic and stuck them through my ponytail like usual. Then I stepped into the adjoining bathroom, which was just as messy as the bedroom. Bottles of shampoo, conditioner, lotion, shower gel, and more had been opened up and poured all over the floor, creating a gloppy, sticky mess. The towels and washcloths had been pulled out of the bathroom closet and thrown down onto the floor as well, so that the goop there would soak into them. Someone had even ripped my bathrobe off the hanger on the back of the bathroom door, tossed it down, and stomped all over it, leaving dirty black footprints behind all over the fluffy white fabric.
I stepped on a couple of towels, trying not to get any more slime on my sneakers than necessary, and grabbed the robe off the floor. Then I reached down into a hidden pocket on the inside of the robe and pulled out a piece of sapphire-blue fabric about the size of my palm.
“And no one usually thinks to look in pockets either,” I said, dropping the ruined robe back down onto the floor.
I carefully unfolded the sapphire fabric layer by layer, then gently shook it out. Despite how tightly the fabric had been packed down, it quickly sprang back into its original shape—a long trench coat.
“Spidersilk,” Deah said in an approving voice. “I forgot that it always retains its shape, no matter how you wad it up or how small you fold it.”
“Yep.” I shrugged into the coat and smoothed some more of the wrinkles out of it before sticking the plastic bag with the ironmesh gloves into one of the pockets. “And now for the most important thing.”
“Your mom’s sword,” Devon said.
I nodded and climbed up onto the bathroom counter. A metal vent was located above the mirror, high on the wall. I reached for one of the screws, which was so loose that it was about to fall right out of the vent frame. I frowned. I thought I’d tightened that back up before I’d left for the dinner—
The vent burst open, making me shriek in surprise and almost lose my balance on the counter. But before I could stagger away from the vent, something silver flashed, and a sword no bigger than a needle zoomed out of the darkness and pressed into my nose. I froze.
“Stop right there, or I’ll stick you full of copper crusher venom,” a low, angry voice growled.
I squinted, staring past the tip of my nose, and realized that two pairs of eyes were glaring at me from the dark depths of the vent—one pair an intense violet and the other a midnight black.
“Oscar! Tiny!” I sighed with relief. “You guys are okay!”
Oscar squinted back at me. “Lila? Is that really you?”
“Of course it’s me. I showed you where I was putting my sword before I left. Remember?”
The pixie let out a tense breath and lowered his sword. Then he zipped out of the vent, flew over, and hugged my neck as tight as he could.
“It was . . . it was awful,” Oscar whispered in a ragged tone, his voice even twangier than normal. “Just about everyone was in the dining hall eating dinner, but I decided to feed Tiny before I went down to eat myself. The Draconis must have snuck up on the perimeter guards and taken them out first because there was no warning. The Draconis just busted into the mansion and started killing people. I heard the shouts and screams, but by the time I grabbed my sword and flew downstairs, it was already too late. Most of the guards were already dead, and the Draconis were rounding up the survivors, forcing them outside, and making them get into trucks and vans. But they didn’t see me, so I came up here to get Tiny and hide while they searched the rest of the mansion.”
The pixie’s small body trembled against my neck, and I reached up and gently patted his back, careful not to crush his wings, which were twitching in grief, anger, and agitation.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “I’m here, and you and Tiny are safe now.”
Oscar hugged my neck again, and he stayed perched on my shoulder while I reached up and lifted Tiny out of the air conditioning vent. I put the tortoise in one of the front pockets of my coat, so that he could stick his head up and see what was happening. Then I reached back into the vent and grabbed the final thing hidden inside—my mom’s black blade.
The second my fingers touched the bloodiron, I felt just a little bit better, like I hadn’t lost almost everything I cared about tonight.
I wasn’t sure why.