Arms folded tight to her ribs, she made herself look again at the thing on the gore-splattered attic floor. It was unlike any creature she’d ever seen outside the pages of a children’s darkly fanciful storybook. There were flaps of leathery skin, like enormous bat wings. There were long teeth, like fangs. Long, strong fingers ending in talons. Thin strands of pale hair straggled across a blood-smeared, leathery scalp.

Hair? But only people have hair.

She stepped back. Saw, properly saw, the supper tray on the bench. Looked around the glimlit attic. Looked at Morgan, still so stunned.

“My love?” She had to wet her lips, her mouth had gone so dry. “My love, where is Rumm?”

Morgan spat a vile curse and leapt to his workbench. “This is ridiculous. I know I reworked the incant correctly. Barl, don’t just stand there.” He snapped his fingers at her, familiarly impatient. “Come, come. We have to get this right. Dorana’s safety depends on it.”

“Depends on what, Morgan? Before I help you, you’ll have to explain yourself.”

“There’s no time!” he said, turning on her. “Will you wait until this mansion is overrun with Feenish warriors?”

“Morgan…” She raised her hands. “Please. You’re frightening me.”

His eyes were terrible. “My love, don’t be silly. What in this world can frighten us?”

“That!” she said, pointing at the monstrosity on the floor. “Morgan—is that Rumm?”

“Yes.” Tears spilled to his cheeks. “I don’t understand why the incant failed.”

Appalled, she pressed her fingers to her lips, holding back an anguished cry. What she’d done to the chickens and the hounds and calf had been terrible. For the greater good, but terrible. Still, they were animals. Only animals.

But that was Rumm. Oh, Morgan.

“I think we should go down to the library, my love,” she said carefully. “It will be easier to work our way through what went wrong if we—” Don’t have to look at that hideous thing on the floor. “Can sit comfortably and perhaps seek for guidance from one of your books.”

“Aren’t you listening?” he snapped. “Barl, there’s no time.”

“We needn’t take long. And I’ll make us some tea. Hot tea with plenty of sugar is restorative when you’ve had a nasty shock.”

He stared at her, glassy-eyed. Haggard and pallid and so clearly wallowing in the dregs of his strength. To do such a terrible thing…

This is my fault. I shouldn’t have let him lock himself away up here alone. I shouldn’t have let him use those catalysts. Oh, Rumm. I’m so sorry.

Resentful, but in the end unresisting, Morgan let her take him downstairs. She left him settled in the library, on the sofa, then retreated to the kitchen and made the tea. Dosed his cup with the powerful, leftover sleeping herbs Rumm had used on Greve Danfey, at Pother Ranmer’s insistence.