“His Highness, Dark Prince of the Third Realm, refers to the mysterious, oh yes, mysterious happenings of the human realm and our own,” came a shaky voice behind us.
I spun around. The little fiend was sitting upright, his stubby legs dangling over the edge of the dresser.
“Be silent! It is not the business of humans!”
“When I come this close to getting mauled by Fido the monster, then yeah—I’d say it’s my business!” I hissed. “Tell us what’s going on. If it gets me killed, it gets you killed too, remember, buddy?”
The fox leaped to its feet and began pacing the length of the glass. The hob’s eyes lit up at the sight of it. “Your Highness, my lord and master, your form here is of great beauty, the greatest beauty. It surpasses that of your brothers—the hare, the feline, the crow, the snake, the lizard, and the hedgehog. Blegh! Nothing compared to you.”
“Hedgehog?” Nell repeated. “One appears to humans as a hedgehog?”
“Quiet, little witch. Do not strain your inferior mind to speak of things you do not understand. We did not choose our forms. Our father chose them for us.”
I raised an eyebrow. “He must not have liked you very much, fur ball.”
Apparently it is possible for a fox to look totally outraged. If it hadn’t been for the hob going up to the glass and making grabby hands at the fuzzy little animal, he probably would have launched into another tirade.
“Can you…not?” I asked, trying to pull the hob back from where he was slobbering over the glass. Nell had vaguely explained that hobs were servants of the Downstairs realm, but this one either had a serious case of separation anxiety, or he was obsessed with cute animals.
Nell disappeared for a second, rummaging through the nearby boxes. She opened up one labeled NELL’S TOYS. She dug around until she pulled out a stuffed gray cat and a fuzzy pink bear.
Judging by the way the hob flew across the room to try to tackle them out of her hands, it looked like he was just obsessed with cute animals. We’d have to hide Toad.
Nell held the stuffed animals just out of his reach, trying not to laugh as the hob jumped up in the air for them. His long ears flopped back and forth, and his snot went flying.
“Give them to me, give them to this hob!”
“Tell me what you guys found out, and you can have all of them,” Nell wheedled. “Look how cute they are. Look how soft.”
“Don’t you dare!” Alastor warned, his face smooshed up against the glass. “Nightlock!”
“Is that your name?” Nell asked in that same, sweet voice. “Nightlock, don’t you want Miss Kitty and Growley the Bear?”
The hob nodded, his eyes wide and wet. “Please,” he whimpered.
“Tell us what’s going on.”
Alastor let out a defeated sigh as the hob spilled his guts.
“My lord and master is trying to figure out which of his siblings betrayed him to the Reddings, yes,” Nightlock said. “One of them, his rival and brother, must have given the witch Prufrock his true name. This is the only way to control a malefactor—oh yes, the only way. She would have needed his name for the spell to bind back his power, to bind it back and destroy him.”
“Traitor!” Alastor hissed.
I whirled toward Nell. “I knew it! You guys were wrong!”
Nell paled.
“Oh yes, a traitor indeed, but which brother, which brother, or the sister?”
“Sister?” Nell and I said together.
“It was not Pyra!” the fox continued. “My sister is innocent and far too young for such trickery—too young to even gather souls. She would never harm her own blood, nor is she able to inherit the realm. It was one of my brothers—I am the rightful heir of the Third Realm, of Downstairs, and he could not stand this.”
“Your sister can’t inherit?” Nell asked. “What kind of crappy rule is that?”
We were getting a little off topic. “So you’ve been meeting to try to absorb power from the moon?” I asked. “And to try to investigate who might have betrayed Al? Did you find anything?”
Nightlock finally looked away from the stuffed cat. “No. Alas, no. The ruler on the Black Throne has cast a curse. All fiends banished and escaped from Downstairs, including this hob, may not speak the name, or they will be struck dead instantly. Instantly!”
“You know who it is?” I pressed. “It’s not Al’s father? Is he dead?”
The hob was shaking, just a little. “I cannot speak the name, I cannot. I have tried to find an elf for Master to speak to, but the howlers—the howlers killed the elf first. I have sought out nearby trolls, a White Lady, a banished dwarf, but none can speak the name. It is protected. It is protected.”
I shared a look with Nell. This was so much worse than even I imagined. “The howler that chased us here was after Al? And there are more of them?”
“Yes, and yes,” the hob said. “Now—Miss Kitty and Growley the Bear, wretched witchling. Give them to me!”
Nell rolled her eyes. “Since you asked so nicely…”
Nightlock pounced on the stuffed animals before they even hit the ground. He scooped them up and cuddled them close to his chest, rocking them back and forth even though they were almost as big as him. He cooed and dribbled blue snot all over them in delight and started sucking on Miss Kitty’s paw.
“Al, you’re in way deep,” I said, turning back to the mirror. “And you’re taking me down with you. It wasn’t just Honor that wanted you dead, it was someone in your family. And between my family and yours, if we don’t work together, we’re screwed.”
“Prosper…” Nell warned.
“I can help you get out of me, or at least try to stay safe until you can do it yourself, but in return you can’t take control of me without my permission, and you can’t hurt my family or friends.”
“Are you proposing a contract?”
“No!” I said. Why did eternal servitude or whatever always have to factor into everything with him? “I’m trying to call a truce to keep us alive as long as possible. I can be your friend.”
“Friend?” Al was disgusted. “A malefactor has no friends, least of all humans, who are lower even than worms. If you will not sign a proper contract, then I owe you nothing. If you will not sign a contract, then we are at war.”
Nell blew out the candle in my hands at the first sound of footsteps from above. Al’s image vanished with the rising smoke.
“Help me!” she whispered, tilting the mirror and lowering it so that it was facedown. We covered it with a sheet for good measure.
“Cornelia?” Uncle Barnabas said, yanking on the light cord hanging above the steps. “What are you doing down here? And at this hour?”
I looked to Nell, uncertain. How could we fix anything without his help?
“The malefactor is keeping Prosper awake, so we were trying a few spells,” she said. “We didn’t want to wake you up.”