I remembered how she had asked me on the last new moon, Tell me, Clementine . . . have you read one of my nightmares recorded in your father’s book? Had she been trying to prepare me for this? Had she foreseen what was coming? I sought to understand Papa’s motive in protecting her. Was it simply so she could live in peace, or was someone hunting her? Someone like the Countess of Amarys?

The brothers continued to talk. “Honestly, Lee . . . that’s not so difficult. Given that one of those nineteen was the actual warden. You should be able to discern which of the remaining ones are taking remedies every night, and which one is the actual dreamless sleeper, especially since Mr. Madigan has departed.”

“Of course, I didn’t expect Ambrose Madigan to dream!” Lennox snarled. “He was a warden and we do not risk encountering our own nightmares in the streets. But his daughter, whatever her name was . . .”

“Clementine,” said Phelan.

The sound of him speaking my name was like an unexpected kiss on the mouth. I thought of it written on a stray sheet of parchment, tucked away in his desk like a secret, and gritted my teeth.

“Yes, Clementine,” Lennox said. “She never dreamt, either.”

“Which is not unusual, given she was her father’s partner.”

“She was not his partner but his apprentice, Phelan. She should have had a nightmare or two in that book, especially since she had been living there since she was eight years old.”

A lull in conversation. My breaths suddenly sounded far too loud, and I feared the brothers had sensed my eavesdropping. I took a silent step back, my stomach in a knot, when I bumped into something. Someone, I realized, and turned to see Deacon lurking directly behind me, also eavesdropping.

I swallowed a curse. But now that I realized he was with me . . . well, I might as well linger a few minutes longer. I held my finger to my lips and Deacon grinned, delighted that I was joining him in his crime. We crept closer to the doors.

“Perhaps she drank remedies every night,” Phelan said. “Her father was a warden, so perhaps he didn’t want to encounter one of her nightmares in the streets on the new moon.”

“Yes, I can see your point,” Lennox grumbled. “But still . . . something doesn’t sit right with me, Phelan. And that brings me to the next debacle: I’ve lost them.”

“Who?”

“The Madigans! I set a charm on their wagon, to track where they went, as Mother desired. Ambrose must have sensed it and rerouted my enchantment. All this time, I believed they had settled in another town, a place called Dunmoor, not far from Hereswith. But they never stepped foot in that village. I’ve completely lost them, and Mother will have my head for it.”

“Can you summon Mr. Madigan?”