I wasn’t so sure. Demons were mean, cruel, untrustworthy, and just plain nasty. But the memory of Al sitting in front of his fireplace trying to remember what he originally looked like only made me pity them. The elves had cursed them for trying to kill their entire species, and the demons had returned fire. I wondered if either side remembered what the original insult had been. Hadn’t five thousand years of war been enough?

There was a lesson here, too. I didn’t have time to think about this one, either.

Impatient, I ate another gingersnap, rubbing the crumbs between my fingers before I leaned back and closed my eyes. Jenks’s wings buzzed as he flitted from flower to flower like a hummingbird. “If it stays warm, we’re moving back in the garden this week,” he said out of the blue. “All of us.”

“Great! That’s great,” I said, not opening my eyes. “Are you still in the garden wall?”

“Belle is . . .” he started, and I opened my eyes when he hesitated. Finding him at a nearby orchid, I saw him shrug. “Belle is going to move into the wall, too,” he said quickly, his wings turning red and his dust evaporating before it could hit the plant. “She can have the spare room. We’d just be sharing a front door is all, like you and Ivy.”

Ahh, I thought as I sat up. “That’s good, Jenks.”

“She gets cold fast,” he said as if I had protested her moving in with him, but maybe he was really talking to her sisters in the foliage. “It would be easier to just have one fire.”

Chair scraping, I moved the plate of cookies farther away from me so I’d stop eating them. “I’m proud of you, Jenks,” I said, and he flushed, his wings going full tilt.

“Yeah, well, she’s not cooking for me.”

My smile was faint but sincere. “I’m still proud of you.”

Jenks flew to the table, looking tall next to the tiny cups Trent was using. “She’s okay, I guess. By the way, that gargoyle that showed up last night is still there.”

Frowning, I put my elbows on the table and rested my chin on the back of my hands. I would’ve thought that it was the same one from the ever-after, but there hadn’t been enough scars. “The one that looks older than the basilica?”

Nodding, Jenks speared one of the gingersnaps, holding it over his head like an umbrella as he twirled it. “I don’t like it, Rache. Bis wouldn’t tell me what they were talking about.”

“And you didn’t just spy on them?”