“Right.”

  “Oleander kept insisting that Shasta wouldn’t have run off, and that she wasn’t even the first faerie to disappear. I didn’t want to believe him at first, but he brought forward so much evidence.”

  “How many of them in total have gone missing?”

  “Four fae students, all of them from different courts. It was Shasta, another summer sprite, a winter frost faerie, and a spring brownie. And well, it’s now up to six missing faeries if you count Oleander and Astrid. They’re gone too.”

  “Astrid is a witch,” I said flatly.

  “She’s half-witch,” Elly replied, daring a peek at my face. “Most people didn’t pay attention in Professor Lavant’s class during the demonstration of faerie song, but I did.”

  “What does that mean?”

  She swallowed hard. “Then... you don’t know?”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “Astrid was able to resist the call of every season except autumn. She manifested fallen leaves and faerie dust everywhere!”

  “So?”

  “So, it’s hard to manifest elements from your court unless you have a lot of power. Oleander can barely make a daisy grow, let alone produce one from thin air. From what I overheard, he seemed pretty certain that Astrid was part High Sidhe.”

  I rocked back and would have bruised my tailbone on the stone floor if I hadn’t caught myself on the edge of the bed. If what Elly was saying was true... well, it explained a lot. If Astrid was half-fae, she’d be as much a target as any of the others were. And if we shared a father, as I suspected, it meant I was a changeling, as well. Taliyah and I would both be targets of whatever or whoever was abducting faeries, which had its possibilities...

  “C-could you check the night class for them, please?” Elly squeaked, pushing up from the bed so quickly, she sloshed coffee onto her apron.

  I frowned. “Why would you think they’d be in the night class?”

  “Because they aren’t in any of the day classes and I don’t know where else to look.” She paused. “And I can’t check the night class myself because—”

  “You’ll become their dinner.”

  She nodded. Then it seemed her nerves finally failed her, because she turned around, ready to scamper from the room.

  “Elly,” I said, and she paused with her hand on the doorknob. “I don’t have to tell you to keep my secret, I hope?” I continued. “You’re the only one who knows who I truly am and I need to keep it that way.”

  She turned to look at me. “Of course,” she said with a quick nod. “I’ll keep your secret.”

  “How do I know I can trust you?”

  “I’ll submit to a spell, if you like,” she offered. “You can fuddle my tongue if I try to tell anyone else.”

  “That’s not necessary,” I said, surprising myself because I didn’t offer my trust in general. But this girl... she seemed to deserve it. “Just give me your word and that will be enough.”

  She nodded and gave me a smile. “You have my word.”

  Then she darted out the door, pulling it closed behind her. I stood and crossed over to my desk, lost in the myriad thoughts that were circling through my head. I still had Professor Madden’s lessons and roll call sheets from last term. I just had to find them.

  Time to do a little digging. I had a theory to test.

  Chapter Eight

  Astrid

  I scrubbed at my lips for the umpteenth time.

  I’d long since scrubbed any trace of Valserak’s blood off my mouth, leaving my lips dry and stinging from the effort. My strength seemed to have doubled since drinking even a few mouthfuls of his blood. But that didn’t matter much. I still felt dirty. Valserak had forced this half-life on me and hadn’t even given me the chance to die with a little dignity.

  “So, make him pay for it, Astrid,” I muttered to myself.

  I patted the wall next to me, mapping it by feel. Even vampire eyes needed a little light to see, and the only source in the cellar was a few pinholes worn into the upstairs floor. I couldn’t count on them. The clock shop was mostly for show, with Valserak’s underlings coming and going, sharing news of their dastardly plot with the owner, a man they’d blooded with the promise of eventual immortality. They always set off the clocks before discussing details, so I couldn’t have matched a voice to a face, even if I was able to see the whole exchange. My hearing was even keener now that I’d fed, which meant the clocks going off were damn near torture to listen to. I’d stuffed scraps of cloth into my ears, just to muffle the sound.

  I breathed a sigh of relief as the chimes died away and a pair of comparatively soft footsteps exited the shop. I couldn’t feel a presence in my bones, which meant it probably wasn’t Valserak. I hated that even the tiniest portion of me was disappointed by that fact. Was this how Lorcan had felt? Scared, alone, and somehow still pining for the man who’d ruined his life?

  I turned to thoughts of Lorcan to center myself. It was a trick I used embarrassingly often. He was Wanda’s boyfriend... lover... husband, or whatever, but I still loved him in a way. He was a steady presence in my life, as close to a father as I’d ever known. If he were here, he’d have drawn me into his side, crooning an Irish lullaby or ballad into my ear to keep me from going to pieces. Then he’d lie in wait, leaping onto Valserak the moment the bastard stepped foot into the cellar again, tearing the man to pieces. And freeing me in the process.

  I sang a bar of one of my favorites, Mo Ghile Mear. I was sure I absolutely butchered the pronunciation. Gaelic wasn’t exactly an easy language, and it didn’t roll off my tongue as simply as it did Lorcan’s. The melody did relax me though. For a minute, and then I was pressing myself flat against the wall, trying to pinpoint the squeaky voice that seemed to come from nowhere.

  “Thank goodness that’s over,” the voice said. It was hard to tell, given how shrill it was, but I thought it was male. “I think I prefer the crying to the shrieking. Humanoids. Can’t carry a tune to save their lives.”

  My mouth popped open. The thing was talking about me. And given what it had said, I guessed it wasn’t human, but it was close to me. I could sense that much.

  “I think I have a nice voice,” I said defensively, forgetting one of the cardinal rules Lorcan and my cousins had drilled into my head. Observation could save you a fight, or swing it in your favor. I didn’t have any clue what was in here with me and that might prove to be a problem.

  There was a beat of shocked silence, and then the voice spoke again.

  “You heard me?”

  There was a scratching sound in the walls, and I recoiled. Whatever the thing was, it made the chains jangle, reminding me forcefully that I was still manacled to a wall. I couldn’t escape whatever was coming, even if I wanted to. And the chains were suited to my new strength. Valserak had overlooked one thing though. The chains were made to contain vampires only, which meant they had silver and other vampire-repelling agents melted into the metal. That meant they itched fiercely, but they weren’t cold iron, which would have reduced the power of any fae until they were as weak as kittens. But Valserak didn’t know about my other half.

  “Of course, I did,” I replied. “You’re speaking English, aren’t you?”

  There was another scratching sound, and then a grunt of effort as something furry squeezed through a crack in the wall near my elbow. I let out a squeak of fright as the thing waddled toward me, alighting on my lap. It wasn’t the enormous monster I’d feared, but it did weigh more than I expected. It reminded me pleasantly of Lorcan’s beagle, Yule, who’d lounge on my lap for hours, whining if he didn’t get a proper tummy rub. I stroked a finger down the thing’s back. The fur was smoother than I expected, but it wasn’t until I reached the ropy tail that I realized exactly what had laid itself across my thighs. It was an incredibly large rat.

  “I’m speaking English now,” the rat said impatiently. “But I was talking to my fellows in the walls just now and that was not English. They’re simpler than we are, though, so they have to be talked to in a language they understand. How did you decipher it?”

  It could speak English and it was easily three times the size it should have been. That had to mean...

  “You’re a familiar,” I breathed.

  The rat sighed. Or as much as a rat can sigh. It came out squeaky, just like everything else.

  “Of course, I am, girl. Do you honestly believe I could speak to you if I wasn’t?” It didn’t wait for me to respond. “The question you still haven’t answered is why you could understand rat tongue. What sort of witch are you? Or more accurately, what sort of witch were you... That vampire stripped you of your precious witch blood and soiled you... that much is obvious, at least.” The rat perched up on its rear feet and studied me with its beady, glowing eyes. “Your power ought to be gone, girl, and yet you can still decipher our speech. How?”

  “I want an answer from you first,” I responded, and the rat didn’t seem to like that, because he crossed his skinny, little arms across his bulbous front. “So I know whether I should trust you with that information.”

  “You can trust me.”

  “Whose familiar are you, and what are you doing down here?” I shook my head. “Better question: are the Grimsbanes in on this vampire plot?”

  The rat scoffed so loudly, my ears rang. “I may detest the headmistress, but she would not stoop so low. She’d sooner kill you than see you turned into a nightwalker, and the others fear her too much to risk her wrath, even if their character has degraded enough to allow for such a thing.”

  “Then that’s a ‘no’?”

  “There’s not a witch I know who would aid the vampires. And as for my owner...” The rat trailed off. He sounded a little sad when he continued. “My mistress was Sienna Grimsbane. She called me Yew.”

  “The Grimsbane witch cursed to be the vampire hostage,” I said quietly. “The one before Morgana... She killed herself.”

  I felt Yew’s head dip in acknowledgment. “Aurea was furious. She threatened to feed me to her wretched snake for my failure to stop Sienna’s death. And that is why I’m here. If I try to link with another witch, I fear I may be killed.” Yew paused. “Now it’s time to hold up your end of the bargain, girl. How do you understand our language?”

  “Zoolingualism,” I answered on a shrug. “I started manifesting the ability last year. I haven’t had a chance to practice it much though. Lorcan, my cousin’s husband, has a beagle that talks to me, but other than that, I haven’t met anything that will sit still long enough to let me carry on a conversation.”

  “Remarkable.”

  “I recently found out my father was a Sidhe. I guess that means my faerie magic is still intact, even if my other powers died off.”

  “Curious,” Yew mused. “This half-state is still distasteful, but I suppose it isn’t as hopeless as it seemed a few minutes ago. You aren’t purely vampire and that means you have options, at least.”

  “I don’t suppose I could coax you and your buddies into chewing these restraints off?” I asked, only half-teasing.

  I could practically feel Yew’s condescending stare. For a moment, I was glad I wasn’t a witch any longer. The rat familiar might have asked for a pact to augment my magic. At least, now I’d never be saddled with a grumpy familiar like Hellcat.

  “You think our teeth could get through metal?” He let out a bleak laugh. “I suppose we could gnaw through your wrists. That would allow you to free yourself.”

  I rubbed at said wrists and shuddered. That was a last resort. I might be able to regrow limbs as a vampire, but I didn’t want to feel swarms of rats biting and clawing through my skin.

  “Uh, hard pass.” Then I sighed before something occurred to me. “I think there’s another way out.”

  “Do you?” From his tone, Yew didn’t believe me but was still amused.

  “Could you assemble a few of your friends for me? I believe... I think I have a plan, Yew. Oh, and gather any rope or cloth you can find.”

  It was probably a long shot, but I’d been mulling it over for half a night and I figured it was worth a shot. The only problem was trying to figure out how to let my friends know I was alive and where I’d gone. I didn’t want them bursting in to attempt a rescue, only to find a set of empty chains.

  Yew grumbled and groused, but did as I asked, all the same, which was kind of surprising because I wasn’t sure he would. I mean, he had no reason to help me... unless he thought I’d help him.

  “And, of course, I’ll return the favor,” I added.

  “Mm-hmm,” Yew answered, almost like he didn’t believe me. But he vacated my lap all the same, and it felt lighter without him on it. Okay, maybe there was something a little nostalgic about bickering with a stubborn and arrogant familiar. Right now, I’d take a vicious fight with Hellcat over this cellar any day of the week.

  It took six minutes for Yew to return with what I’d asked for, piling the floor high with scraps he’d found in and around the shop. By feel, at least a few of them were mine, the remnants of my sweater sleeves. It wasn’t ideal, but I’d work with what I had.

  “How many friends of yours did you bring?”

  “Twelve, including myself, Ms...” He paused. “Who are you, exactly?”

  “Astrid Depraysie.”

  “Celestine’s daughter of Crescent Circle Coven?” he asked hopefully.

  He must have been out here a while to have missed the memo about Celestine’s banishment. He also hadn’t been listening to any of the castle gossip, or he would have been outraged by my perceived degeneracy. He thought I was a legacy student with a powerful and well-connected mother, which could net him a new mistress at some point. I wouldn’t disabuse him of the notion. Not yet, anyway.

  “Her niece. Tabitha is my mother.”

  “Such a talented witch. She’ll be disappointed in this turn of events.”

  Not so long ago, I would have thought he was right. This would have been the worst-case scenario, the nail in the coffin so to speak. I wouldn’t be able to look Mother in the face, let alone return to Crescent Circle (not that I wanted to return, because I didn’t). Now, I wasn’t so sure. Tabitha had gone to absurd lengths to keep us safe and she’d barely blinked at Maverick’s blooding, too relieved to have him home safe. Scarlett Velardi, another High Witch, was still fiercely protective of her son, Vicente, even though he’d been a vampire for at least fifty years. Maybe Mother wouldn’t abandon me. But even if she did, I still had family in Haven Hollow and that was enough for me.

  “Please come here, all of you,” I ordered. “I’m going to tie something around your necks, but I won’t hurt you. What I’m going to put on you... you need to keep them on, alright?” The twelve rats just looked at me blankly and I had to wonder if they could understand me. “Yew first, and then the rest of you... please.” I figured it was important to be polite since they were doing me a favor.

  Yew grumbled again but hopped obediently onto my lap. It took me a few minutes to figure out what I was doing with the scraps of clothing. I still didn’t have a handle on this faerie stuff. When I was confident I had the basics of a spell down, I eased it into the fabric. If the scrap had been coated with potions, it would have been easier. But I didn’t have potions. What did I have? Blood. I had blood.

  That was my magical core now. I cautiously pricked a finger with one of my fangs and then smeared the blood onto the scrap of cloth. And it worked. With my blood on the cloth, the unfamiliar magic seeped into the threads like rain into dry earth. I tied it around Yew’s neck, knotting it as firmly as I dared without choking him. My fingers were shaking with the effort even the one spell cost me. I needed to feed again soon. I was thoroughly exhausted by the time every rat had on a collar.

  “What is the point of this, Depraysie?” Yew asked. His fellows chorused in agreement. Yew was clearly their leader.

  I patted the wall, feeling a little silly. It wasn’t like they could see much better than I could. “I’m part royal Sidhe, which means I have power. And with that power, I’m going to open a door here.”

  “A door?”

  “Right. Like a portal and I’ll leave it active. Only Autumn faeries will be able to pass through unless they bring a tagalong.”

  “A tagalong?” Yew questioned. “I don’t understand.”

  “You are all my tagalongs. The collars around your necks will allow you all to come and go.”

  “To what end?” Yew asked.

  “I need to know what’s going on in the castle—I need to know what’s happening at Blood Rose Academy. Come through the portal immediately if war breaks out. Otherwise, just try to get a feel for things. I want you to find out who is involved in this vampire plot, because if I approach the wrong person, I’m dead. Again.”

  “We’re your spies then,” Yew said dryly.

  “Yeah. And Yew?”

  “Yes?” he asked, a note of suspicion in his squeaky voice.

  “Find Rook and Morgana... if they’re still alive. Tell them where I am. And please tell them not to do anything stupid.”

  “They’re interfering with a plot larger and more deadly than they are,” Yew said with a shrug. “They’re already stupid. But I catch your meaning.”

  “Good. If we all make it out alive, or undead in my case, I’ll find you a new witch to play familiar to, okay?”

  “You promise?”

  I nodded. “I have a niece in the Hollow named Sybil. She’ll need a familiar, eventually.”

  “She’s a witch?”

  Sybil wasn’t a witch, but a shapeshifter, but as the magicked being of a Blood Witch and a Blood Warlock, I had to imagine she had a little witchiness in her somewhere. Regardless, she was still magical so I decided to fudge the truth a little. “Yes, and she’ll take good care of you.”

  “She’d better,” he muttered. Then, “Go. We will be in touch.”

  I let out a shaking breath, pressing my back flat against the wall, screwing my eyes shut. I could do this. I had to. I gathered my will and focused my attention on a nebulous picture of Autumn. I didn’t know where I’d end up, but anywhere was better than here. I released the breath. I prayed. And then...