Rhian

The night after becoming Oskari's saviour, I was sitting outside The Estate in the snow, swinging on the bench at the gazebo, eating a plum. Teeth was asleep at my feet. It was one of the few days since arriving in Amalia that nothing bad, or weird, or anything at all happened, actually. 'Course, that in itself made the day weird, so never mind. I take it back. I should have been suspicious.

Around The Estate, it was mostly forest—apart from the gazebo in the back and a frozen-over pond with a hole in the middle. I'd asked Alexander about the giant orange fish I'd seen swimming around before, and about what they did during the winter, and he said, "They sleep," and I said, "All right."

While I munched on the plum, I thought about my mates. Michael was still in trouble, but at least we knew where he was. Adeline was still in Jaska pouring drinks at a brothel for some bloody reason. But Vinny was still missing, Gus was still not-dead somewhere, and Strauss—

Daddy's with daddy so don't you worry.

Wherever Strauss was, he was with my Random Father. I still wasn't sure how I felt about that particular man at the minute. But whatever. The bottom line: I wasn't worried too about Strauss, but I was missing him more than ever. And there was something I needed to tell him.

I hadn't been feeling sick lately, but Alexander reassured me the baby was fine. Truth, I was a bit nervous carrying a Partisan with Celestian blood, wondering if he or she could accidentally set us on fire from the inside, but Alexander said, "Impossible," and I said, "All right."

Anyhow. I bloody loved plums, so I chewed around the pit until there was nothing left but pit, and then I threw it into the bushes behind me. Just as I thought about heading inside to get another fruit, the pit landed with a thunk next to my foot.

Teeth was awake now, her ears pricked forward and her snoot twitching.

I lifted a hand, telling her to heel, and I reached under the swing for the pit.

I tossed it back into the bushes.

It landed back on the gazebo.

I tossed it back into the bushes.

It landed back on the gazebo.

I tossed it back into the bushes.

And I never saw the pit again, but I did see a ghost. Or Gus. He wandered over to the swing and had a sit beside me. I checked him in the shoulder, he checked me in the shoulder. I smiled, he smiled, and then we hugged for about an hour.

Teeth went back to sleep.

Now, you might be thinking, "Boy, Rhian, that's some coincidence you'd throw a pit into the exact bushes where Gus happened to be." But you'd be wrong. Gus had probably been watching me for a while on account of he was a bit of a creep. Also, he was a clever cat. He knew where the pit would end up.

"Missed you, mate," I said.

He was wearing a woolly hat with a fuzzy ball on top, and I liked it, so I yanked it off and put it on my head instead. Then I ruffled his hair.

"Missed you too, Rhian. I heard everybody thought I was dead except for you."

"Aye? And where'd you hear that?"

"Adeline."

"You have anything to do with her getting a job as a bartender?" I asked.

"I had everything to do with her getting a job as a bartender," he said.

Well, it was all making sense now.

"Have you seen Vinny?"

"Nope."

"Strauss?"

"Nope," Gus said. "I heard Michael's sick though."

"Where'd you hear that?"

"I bumped into Alex in Jaska the other day."

"He didn't tell me that."

"I told him I wanted to surprise you."

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I leaned my head on Gus's shoulder. Gus leaned his head against my head.

"So, what're we gonna do now?" I asked.

Gus was about to say something brilliant, I'm sure, but we scrambled to our feet instead.

There was the sound of glass breaking followed by a loud crash, coming from inside The Estate. We booked it through the back door, Teeth at our heels.

Inside, we learned two things right quick. One, Alexander wasn't home. Two, Peter was.

When we got to the atrium, the big window next to the front door was in pieces all over the floor, and Peter was fighting off two of Those Things. He kicked one in the face, swinging around to plunge a sword into the other one's gut. All right, Peter—I wasn't expecting that.

Gus reached for the hand crossbow at his hip, discharging a bolt into the one that was still regaining his footing. The bolt plunged into the upper-middle of its back, exactly where Random Father had shot Alexander. The son-of-a-bitch fell to his knees, squirming while he tried to pull the bolt out of that spot that's impossible to itch without help.

In other news, Peter had pulled the sword free and now swung for the neck. Agile for an older Barren gentleman, aye, but it wasn't enough. That Thing dodged easily, setting his sights on me and Gus. He came for me first, but I rolled out of the way, bouncing to my feet. I snatched the sword from Peter's hands.

Leaping a few feet in the air, I swiped the sword clean across the bad man's neck on the way down.

Finally. I'd been dying to lop a head for myself.

The head fell to the floor not long before both parts crumbled to dust.

The lad on the floor was still busy putting on an awkward dance performance. But if the tip of the bolt was coated with silver, which I reckon it was, he'd be fizzling soon enough. It wouldn't destroy him, but he wouldn't be much of a threat anymore. I looked around, making sure Peter, Teeth, and Gus were all right. They were.

So, I stepped over to the squirmy one and lopped his head off also.

Victory all around, and all that still wearing Gus's woolly hat.

Victory all around.

Or not—

Through the jagged hole where the window once was, a small person stepped into The Estate.

Seeming bored as all get out, the silvery-haired Strachan looked at us with these these giant silvery eyes, wearing a black dress with a frilly white collar, frilly white socks, and shiny black shoes. The left side of her face was teeming with old burn scars.

She lifted a finger and began twirling it around and around, and then everything in the room began twirling around and around. Paintings, vases, the coat rack, side-tables, bits of glass from the shattered window. Snow from outside. Dead people's ashes. I ducked under a vase, Gus dodged around a table, and Teeth sank her teeth into Peter's pants, dragging him out into the hallway. I shielded my face with my hand when the storm picked up speed, just as a shard of glass came at me. It shredded my skin but at least I still had my eyes.

Moving through the storm was a lot like walking through quicksand I reckon. I couldn't run, and I could hardly speak with the way the wind was making my face flap. I grabbed for the banister just as the gusts got stronger, keeping my forearm across my eyes. I peered over and under, trying to get a sense of what was going on.

The itty-bitty Strachan walked through the storm normally, the shards of glass and furniture swirling around her politely or whatever. Once she was close enough, she snatched Gus up with one arm and darted for the exit.

By the time I was able to move again, the wind had died down and about a thousand things fell to the floor with a clink, clatter, bang, or crash. It was too late. But I ran outside anyway, covered in ash and bleeding from my hand and a few other places. I scanned the forest around The Estate. My hearing wasn't as good as it used to be, and it was tricky separating everything else from the ringing in my ears.

Either way, it didn't bloody matter. They'd be anywhere by now.

It wasn't long afterward Alexander arrived home, alerted to the attack by Peter and their telepathic link or what have you.

He joined me on the porch, healed my wounds, and the pair of us stood staring at the destruction in the atrium through the broken window.

So, Gus had been kidnapped, but at least the day felt normal again.

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