“Jacky says he’s still alive.”

“Good,” Iset said.

Olivia paced across the open space in front of Iset’s desk in the library. Her movements were restless and stiff. Iset silently marveled as she watched the redheaded witch. She’d worked closely with the girl for a whole year and had never seen her anywhere near this agitated.

“Sure,” Olivia said. “Good. But if he’s alive, where is he?”

Iset leaned back in her chair so she could watch the witch without having to turn her head. “Is there anyone you can ask for help?”

“Autumn is already doing everything she can.” Olivia’s mouth pulled down in a tight frown. “No one else seems to care.”

Iset put her elbows on the arms of her chair and laid her hands together. She didn’t intertwine her fingers. No matter how carefully her hands were bandaged, that was always a clumsy motion. “Olivia, you’re clearly upset—”

“What a surprise!”

Iset ignored the snippy return. “Are you thinking of going back?”

There was a slight hitch in Olivia’s step, but she kept walking.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” she admitted.

“But you don’t want to,” Iset observed.

“Of course I don’t want to! But…”

Olivia stopped at the far end of her path. She looked along the line of bookshelves toward the east windows. The thin white inner curtain prevented her from seeing outside, but Iset was pretty sure the witch wasn’t seeing anything in front of her anyway. The scene was nothing but something to rest her eyes on.

She said, “He’s my friend, Iset.”

That quiet announcement played on Iset’s emotions like a finger run around the rim of a wineglass.

“Then why don’t you go?” the mummy asked.

Olivia turned to face her. “If I’m wrong—if we’re wrong—and it turns out to be nothing, we’ll never hear the end of it. Even you said it might be nothing.”

“But you’re worried.”

“So I’m worried!”

“Olivia, those feelings aren’t going to go away until you know what’s going on.”

Olivia let out a moan, walked back to the desk where Iset was sitting, and dropped herself into the nearby armchair.

“I’ll probably find Kirby, sitting in his shop, smiling like nothing happened,” Olivia said. “And do you know what he’ll do when he figures out I was worried about him? He’ll laugh.”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Is that all?”

“No. He’ll tease me too.”

“If that’s what it means to ‘never hear the end of it,’ I think it might be worth the risk.”

“He’s not the one I’m worried about.” Olivia put the edge of her thumbnail between her teeth.

“Does anyone else have to know why you’re there?”

The witch’s voice was brittle with sarcasm. “If I suddenly show up, I think one or two people might have a few questions.”

“Why? Aren’t you expected to be there?”

Olivia’s body stiffened. Then her eyes widened. She pulled her thumb away from her mouth and started bouncing her index finger off the arm of the chair instead.

“Jacky’s busy,” Olivia said.

Iset knew that quick, sharp tone. That was how Olivia spoke when she was going over a problem, noting all the tasks in front of her, spying out any possible complications. She wasn’t pointing out why the idea wouldn’t work; she was identifying the minor obstacles that would have to be dealt with.

“Big Jacky knows that being your master is a part of his duties,” Iset said, “and if there’s anything that Jacky respects, it’s his duty.”

“The interview is only a few minutes long. There’s no reason I’d have to stay for more than an hour or two.”

“That’s something to start with. Once you’re there, you can decide if it’s worth staying a few extra days.”

“Iset, what if I miss something?”

The mummy paused. That wasn’t a minor obstacle.

“Why don’t you take Emerra?”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “Ugh.”

Iset rubbed her forehead. That wasn’t a minor obstacle either, but she’d brought the matter up, she might as well see it through.

“’Ugh’ is not an answer, Olivia,” she said.

“This isn’t her problem.”

“No, but if you’re worried about what you might miss—”

“I’d have Autumn there. And Jacky.”

Olivia couldn’t see Iset’s eyes behind all the bandages, but sometimes, during a long silence, she sometimes thought she could feel them resting on her.

“He’s your friend,” Iset said.

Olivia looked away. “Emerra has no reason to help me.”

“You mean you’ve given her no reason to help you, and that’s true, but perhaps you’ve been too…occupied…to notice—Emerra helps people. That’s what she does. And if you ask, she’d probably be willing to help you.”

Iset wondered if Olivia realized how far she’d slumped into the chair. It made her difficult to see from the door, which is probably why Emerra didn’t notice her when she first came in.

“Good morning, Iset!” Emerra called with her usual smile.

“Good morning,” Iset said.

“Have you seen Olivia anywhere around?”

Iset nodded to the chair in front of Emerra.

“Oh.” Emerra leaned over the high back and said in a suspiciously bright voice, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Olivia!”

“What do you want?” Olivia grumbled.

“I need to know your favorite cake.”

“Why?”

“Again with the why! Do I look unusually evil today? Come on. Favorite cake.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do. I’m a girl on a mission, and I will not leave until you give me the information I’m after!”

Olivia glowered.

“Don’t make me get the thumbscrews,” Emerra said.

“Red velvet.”

Emerra’s forehead crinkled. “Is that a cake?”

“Yes, it’s a cake!” It was clear Olivia found the girl’s ignorance personally insulting.

“Don’t worry, Emerra,” Iset assured her, “I’ve never had it either.”

Emerra smiled at the mummy while Olivia shot her a look.

“I’m off then,” Emerra announced. “I have to go see if Igor knows what red velvet cake is.”

“You think he doesn’t?” Olivia asked.

Emerra twirled in a circle to answer while still moving toward the arched entry. “If I was a betting girl, I’d say yes. Anyone who can make a quiche without a recipe probably knows everything there is to know about cooking!”

As always, when Emerra was gone, the world seemed slightly quieter than before she’d come.

Olivia hadn’t moved. She’d slumped into the silence the way she’d slumped into the chair. There was a scowl on her face, but Iset couldn’t tell if it was an annoyed scowl or a thoughtful one.

“Today’s your birthday, isn’t it?” Iset said.

“Yeah.”

“Does Emerra know that?”

There was a pause.

“Yes,” Olivia said.

“Oh.”

“Oh, what?” Olivia snapped.

“Nothing. Just ‘oh.’”

Iset turned and opened her laptop. It looked like the witch needed some time to think and plenty of silence to think in.