Hours later, Alastor lay awake, opening the boy’s eyes to study the fattening moon through the window. The boy had not left the bells playing. There was no need. Every time Alastor tried to move his limbs, the iron bracelets weighed them down.
The boy’s feeble heart was a thorny tangle of guilt, frustration, and longing. Alastor despised the taste of guilt—like overripe fruit, it was overwhelmingly sweet. Guilt was a sign of some goodness, however buried it might be, because it implied a human could still recognize right from wrong.
The malefactor released a long, long sigh through the boy’s mouth. He needed to accept now that his conventional means of procuring a contract had failed, and would continue to fail. The boy’s heart, it would seem, was a rare sort: incorruptible by greed, incompatible with jealousy. Unlike Honor, he saw the destruction that Alastor’s good fortune wreaked on others. But like Honor, his one weakness, his truest wish, was nothing more than the survival and success of his family.
If Alastor were to make a contract, his last, desperate chance of getting out of the boy’s body before the witch removed him by force and destroyed him, he would need to chase the tail of that lead. He would require somewhat drastic measures.
“Servant,” he whispered.
Nightlock’s eyes appeared at the foot of the couch.
“Take the boy’s notebook,” he said. “I’ve instructions as to whom, by hook or crook, you must deliver this book.”
The hob’s eyes glittered with excitement.
“Come closer. I’ll tell you the way to Redhood.”
In the end, Uncle Barnabas came around.
I’m not sure why that surprised me so much. After the lecture he’d given us yesterday about how it wasn’t safe for us to leave before he and Nell could cast the spell to remove Alastor, I thought for sure we’d be stuck in the house for at least another day. But whatever they had talked about last night while they were downstairs, it was like Nell had flipped a switch in him.
“Good morning, good morning,” he called as he came out of the shower. “I’m going to run out to grab some doughnuts, do you have any requests? Maybe you’d like some hot chocolate?”
Trying to smooth things over with a little sugar, huh? Well, I wasn’t too proud to take a doughnut bribe.
“Man, forget doughnuts, I’d kill for a Silence Cake,” I said.
His pale brows drew together in confusion.
“You remember,” I said. “The pumpkin leaves?”
“Oh—oh yes. My word, I haven’t had one in ages. Sadly they’re not found outside of Redhood. What can I get you from the Witch’s Brew instead?”
“I liked their glazed doughnuts,” I said, “and I’ll definitely take a hot chocolate. What about you, Nell?”
Nell was still in her pajamas. She had been working on her homework even before I got up, and hadn’t moved an inch from her bed.
Uncle Barnabas grabbed his coat and a beanie, tucking his wet hair up inside of it. “While I’m gone, you can tell Prosper the good news.”
The news couldn’t have been that good. Nell cringed.
I waited by the window until I saw Uncle B head out the back door and down the street. The bakery was only a block away, meaning we didn’t have much time to talk.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Why is he acting like he swallowed actual sunshine?”
Nell shrugged, keeping her eyes on her homework. “I explained to him last night about how important the play was to us. I convinced him to let us go to the performance tonight.”
In exchange for what?
“In exchange for what?”
“Why do you think I had to promise him something?” she asked, her voice going high. “He said he would take us tonight, and I wasn’t going to question it. It’s not like he’s making you go to school today. You should be happy about that.”
Was I happy about that? I kind of liked this school.
It’s not your school, I reminded myself. This isn’t your life either.
“He’s even going to watch the performance,” Nell continued. “He was just…out of sorts. They’re making cuts at one of his jobs.”
So Uncle B really had just been in a bad mood after all. The poor guy probably wasn’t sleeping well, and knowing there was a fiend lurking less than five feet away from him wouldn’t help much on that front.
Nell slammed her science textbook shut and jumped off her bed. She didn’t even look at me as she passed the couch. The bathroom door slammed shut behind her.
Sensing she hadn’t already fed the hob, I pulled together a plate of potato chips and a banana to bring down to him. Only, when I opened the door to the basement, he was gone.
“Nell?” I called through the bathroom door. The shower was running, so I had to shout. “Do you know where our little friend is?”
“No,” she yelled back. “Why?”
Alastor was quiet. Which meant one thing.
“Where is the hob?” I asked. “Al. Seriously. Where is he?”
But all I got was silence. That, and the horrible feeling all the players were stepping onto the stage, but no one had ever bothered to give me a script.
Uncle Barnabas had arranged for none other than Madam Drummer to swing by and pick us up that evening.
“I just have a few errands to run for our adventure tonight, but I’ll meet you there,” he said, when I made a face. “Buck up, Prosper. This will all be over in a few hours.”
Sooner than that, if I didn’t jump out of the van to escape Madam Drummer’s long, poetic speech to Nell about how special this night was, and how we all had to cherish it and the memories we’d make, and also, don’t mess up the lines, but really, don’t miss your mark either, and don’t improvise, all right?
It was a huge relief to finally be able to escape and head inside the empty auditorium. We were two hours early. That had felt ridiculous when we left the house, but seeing Madam Drummer on stage, waving her arms, screaming for “lights, more lights, dramatic lights!” made it feel like not enough time. Nell turned to say something to me, a weird expression on her face, but one of the crew members dragged her off to go get her stage makeup and hair done. I tucked the iron bracelets more firmly beneath my sweater sleeve, hoping they weren’t noticeable under my socks and pants.
I kept myself busy helping the crew run through one last practice of switching the sets out between scenes. There wasn’t really a reason for me to be there other than to watch the show, but I felt myself sucked up into the world onstage anyway. People were laughing and talking in nervous voices, drifting back and forth across the stage.
A few girls waved to me and asked about where Nell and I were the past two days and why we missed school. Even Norton came and sat with me at the edge of the stage, trying to catch me up on what I’d missed in class, offering his notes. The other students noticed me. They wanted to talk about my backdrop—they acted like I’d been going to school there for years instead of a few weeks.
Which is why it sucked so much that they thought I was Ethan White, not Prosperity Redding.
You could stay here forever. It could always be like this….
Yeah, yeah, I thought, rubbing the back of my neck. Still not buying what you’re selling, buddy.