Glass broke. Kostya swore. Beryl’s eyes went wide. I focused on the black of her pupils and waited for the threads to float to the floor.
“I don’t know who it was,” I said, “but there were three of them. Three from one. And a raven. Mom conjured a giant raven and it picked her up and flew her out the window and I couldn’t see what happened next.”
Beryl grabbed my wrists, hauled me up to standing, and guided me to where Kostya balanced on the top rung of the ladder. “Clementine, get on my shoulders,” the demon said, beckoning. “It’s the only way we’re going to be able to see what’s on the other side of the window. Come on, you can do it.”
I was too shaken by what I’d seen to protest. With Beryl’s help, I made it up the ladder to Kostya’s side. The next thing I knew I was perched on his shoulders, wrinkling my nose at the smell of restaurant trash wafting up from the parking area in the back of the building.
“That stink… I need a face mask.”
“Beryl,” Kostya called down, “open my leather bag. You’ll see a box of masks and a box of gloves. Grab a set for each of us.”
“And Beryl, tear two strips off that piece of canvas and hand them to me.” I was alert enough to know I didn’t want to risk getting cut by glass shards. I adjusted the face mask over my nose and mouth then wound a strip of canvas around each hand, got my knees onto Kostya’s shoulders, and peered out once he had a firm hold of my thighs.
“It’s going to take me a minute to find the threads again,” I said. “Don’t let me go, Kostya.”
He grunted. Beryl seconded my request. I shed my fear of heights and invited the last snippets of whatever happened that day to reveal themselves.
Threads coming up from the ground sped toward me.
Fast.
A rib cracked.
Fear and pain.
The raven—uninjured but frantic—beat at the air with its wings.
Mom lost a shoe. Kept her keys. Swallowed the raven. Unlocked the door to the back of the building and fled down the stairs to the cellar, to the portal, and—
“She made it out of here alive.” I gripped one side of the window frame, leaned forward, and pointed. Neither Kostya nor Beryl could see the last of threads as they turned into shredded black feathers and floated to the ground.
But I could.
“Kostya, bring her down. Please. She’s seen enough.”
Kostya held tight as he lifted me away from the window. He jumped, letting his knees absorb the impact as we landed on the wood floor. I was quickly sandwiched between him and my sister.
“Mom made it to the portal,” I said, pulling off the mask and forcing myself to breathe through the pain in my ribs. “She made it to the portal and she was alive when she left.”
6
Beryl plugged in the ancient electric heater sitting between the exterior wall and the side of Mom’s desk. “Kostya, make sure she warms up,” she said, tucking a long piece of mohair suiting around my shoulders. “I’m going to dash out and get us snacks and supplies for tea.”
“Cocoa. I’d love some cocoa. With marshmallows.”
My clothes and socks were dry yet I was as chilled on the inside as if I’d spent the morning swimming in one of the nearby rivers. I swiveled the chair until my knees faced the heating element. Bits of lint and dust sparkled and died out as the crimped wires began to glow deep red. Kostya moved to check the casings and panes on the four windows facing the street.
“These all look good,” he said. “No cracks, no leaks. This corner of the room should warm up quickly.”
“Thanks for checking.” I pressed into Mom’s high-backed desk chair. I couldn’t take in everything I had just seen all at once. I had to let it seep in sideways. “My mom conjured a raven, Kostya.”
He shrugged out of his leather jacket and draped it behind me. “That’s wild, Clementine.”
I hummed in agreement and wiggled my toes. “What time is it?”
“Nine-oh-five.”
“How many hours do we have until Rémy returns?”
“Just under thirty-five.”
I blew out a breath, grabbed a section of the heavy mohair and folded it in half, and half again, smoothing the wrinkles until I had a lap blanket.
“What can I do?” Kostya asked.
“Go see if Rosey needs your help,” I said. “I’m fine here. Really.”
“You have your phone?”
“Four bars and the battery’s fully charged.” I slipped the device out of my back pocket, waggled it in his direction, and placed it faceup on the desk.
“Mind if I take a look at your neck?”
I tilted my head to the side. “Please do.” I’d caught a glimpse of the serpent when I was toweling dry after my shower. It was smaller, warmer, and much less noticeable. Kostya traced a tight coil behind my ear with the tip of his finger.
“Does it hurt at all?” he asked.
“Nope.”
Kostya gave a brotherly kiss to the top of my head before ruffling my hair. “You’re brave, Clementine Brodeur. All of you are. If it was my mother who’d gone through this, I’d be burning shit to the ground.”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, Kostya. I’m upset and sad all over again. But if we let ourselves wallow, we won’t be effective, and right now we all need to stay sharp.”
The demon gave me a thumbs-up and strode across the room.
I watched the movements of his muscles under his jeans and snug, long-sleeved Henley and reminded myself we had progressed to the platonic stage of our relationship. I shelved my momentary longing for romantic companionship alongside the rolls of muslin stacked behind me and returned to pretending I was my mother and this was just another day in the life of a matchmaker.
Leaning to the side, I withdrew the ledger and receipt folder from the
