a ball is vital to zee Spirit-Hunters’ continued support. And to my own continued support for zee election.”

I found myself nodding in an almost emphatic agreement. Madame Marineaux had said the same thing, had she not?

Tres bien—I am glad you understand, Mademoiselle Fitt. You must tell zem zis, oui? Tell

Messieurs Boyer and Sheridan what I have told you.”

“Perhaps you should tell them—”

Non, non. I will let you tell zem. It is better. Zey like you. Zey listen to you.”

Not anymore, I thought. But I bobbed a polite curtsy, hoping LeJeunes would interpret it as compliance.

He did; and with a delighted grin, he tapped his nose once and said, “Merci beaucoup! Madame

Marineaux is right about you. Une fille intelligente! Smart girl. Now, I must be off—I have much to do before zee ball! Much to do!” He twisted around and hobbled back toward the crowds.

But he left his cane. I knew he left it without even checking. And I also knew I ought to call out after him . . . but I wanted to see it. Wanted to . . . touch it. . . .

Holding my breath, I gently lifted it by its base and brought the ivory near. Up close, it was even more beautiful. A craftsmanship like nothing I’d ever seen—so real, I thought it might start moving at any moment.

My hand trembling, I gently reached up to stroke one of the long, jagged fingernails. But then the

Marquis’s voice rang out.

Mademoiselle!”

I tensed, confused. Angry.

And then the Marquis was beside me once more and taking the cane away from me. “Oh, merci, merci! I almost forgot it, and, oh la, zat would have been bad! Zis is my good luck charm—I need it if

I am to win zee election.” He winked at me. “Until tonight, Mademoiselle. Au revoir.”

Au revoir,” I mumbled, my chest aching as I watched him disappear back into the crowds.

“Eleanor.”

“Huh?”

“El, snap out of it.” Oliver stood before me. I stared stupidly at the demon as the world behind him shifted into focus. I was still at the foot of the stairs, yet the crowds beyond had thinned. “How long have you been standing here?” he asked, concern obvious in the squint of his eyes.

“I . . . I don’t know.”

“Well, come on. Let’s go to your room.” He took my arm gently in his, and we began a careful trek up the stairs. “What happened? You seem utterly lost.”

“I feel utterly lost too.” I chuckled nervously. “I . . . I was talking to the Marquis and then . . .”

Then I saw his cane, and he took it from me.

“And then?” Oliver prompted.

“Um . . .” I cocked my head. “He was . . . was looking for the Spirit-Hunters and insisting they were not here. Did you see them?”

“No.” Oliver’s head swung once. “I think they must have slipped out in all the . . . er . . . excitement.”

“Maybe to search for Jie.” I hoped this was the reason.

“Or perhaps les Morts have struck again.”

“Number seventy-four,” I murmured. Then I froze midstride. Hadn’t the Marquis said something about seventy? “‘All of the other senators will be in attendance.’ . . .”

“What?” Oliver moved onto the step above me and gazed down. “What about senators?”

“Something the Marquis said about how over seventy men and their families will be at the . . . oh, merciful heavens.” My eyes grew huge as something else he’d said played in my mind. “‘This is my good luck charm.’”

“El, what are you whispering about?”

“ . . . I need it if I am to win the election.” I moved onto the step beside Oliver, and my words rushed out. “Oliver, what does an amulet feel like? How would I recognize one?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen one.”

“Would it be attractive? As in alluring—would someone want to . . . to touch it?”

“I don’t know, El.” He peered at me slantwise. “A necromancer might be attracted to the power, I suppose, but the average person—”

“The cane!” I almost screamed the word. “The Marquis’s cane is the amulet.”

“The Marquis? As in the man who is—”

“Hosting the Spirit-Hunters, yes!” I burst into a run up the stairs, shouting, “His cane—it isn’t normal, Ollie. Every time I have seen it, the handle has been in a different shape, and all I can think about is how much I want to have it. Maybe he is a demon—you said yourself that you wouldn’t be able to sense one nearby.”

Oliver’s feet pounded behind me. “Well, there’s one easy way to tell. What color are his eyes?”

I slowed. “Blue. Damn, they’re blue.” I resumed my racing stride, and we rounded the stairs, flying past the Spirit-Hunters’ lab. “But even if he is not a demon, he could still have an amulet.”

“But why would he need an amulet?”

“To control the senate, win the presidential election—power. There are seventy-four corpses and I bet seventy-four senators.”

“No,” Oliver called after me. “There are seventy- five.”

“But seventy-five minus the Marquis is seventy-four! And . . .” I trailed off, grinding to a halt. I turned horrified eyes on Oliver. “He said they’ll all be at the ball tonight. What if he intends to cast the amulet then?”

Oliver frowned. “But why would he want the Spirit-Hunters there? Surely he wouldn’t want to cast it with people around who could stop him.”

Now it was my turn to frown. “I-I don’t know, Ollie, but we cannot risk leaving the amulet with the Marquis. We have to stop him.”

“Why do we have to stop him?” Oliver demanded, but I did not respond. I had already resumed my desperate race to my room.

And all I could think of was that stopping the Marquis would lead to Jie. Something in my heart told me her disappearance was connected to les Morts; and if the Marquis was the man behind les

Morts, then . . .

My lips quirked into a smile. Then I would destroy him.

Just as I skittered to a stop before my bedroom door, Oliver jogged up behind me.

“What do you”— gasp—“intend to do, El?”

“Stop him.”

“How?”

“I’ll take the amulet.” I wanted it—I couldn’t deny that. “I will go to his house and take it.” I pushed through my doorway.

But Oliver shoved into my room and forced me to stop. “And then he’ll cast the amulet and compel you to return it. Your plan won’t work.”

“Then tell me what I can do.”

“Your only choice is to stop the necromancer who made the amulet.”

“Stop him how?” I shut my door.

“Death.” He spoke with an intensity I’d never seen. “Murder, El. And despite all

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