Rownie sat in the chair across from her. “Thank you,” he whispered, and he meant it—but he also meant it as a question. He couldn’t remember a single time that Vass had helped him with anything, and this seemed like an unlikely moment for her to start. It was no small thing to lie to Graba.

Vass waved his thanks away with one hand. “She treated me like a Grub today. She can’t do that. I won’t let her do that, not to me. She wears them. She uses them to go places. She’s always moving, always, even when she’s still at home and upstairs. But I won’t let her wear me. I’m not a Grub.”

“Me neither,” said Rownie, and he hoped it was true. “I’ve got a name.”

Vass smiled her cruel smile. “No, you don’t,” she said. “You just have Rowan’s name, made small. But Graba can’t wear you.”

Rownie very much hoped that she wasn’t lying. “Why not?”

“Because you’ve got a little talent for wearing masks,” Vass said. “Why do you think she keeps you around?” She took a cushion from the chair beside her, looked it over, and knocked some of the dust out by whacking it against the table.

Rownie tried to blink the dust cloud out of his eyes. “Why would masks matter to Graba?”

“Forget it,” said Vass. “What matters to Graba shouldn’t much matter to you, not anymore. I’m going to douse the lights. We’ll leave then. We’ll stop looking for you, once it’s dark.”

“Thanks for helping me hide,” Rownie said.

Vass shook her head, forcefully, like there was something stuck to her nose and she wanted it off. “Don’t thank me,” she said. “I’m not helping you. I’m not doing this for you.” She stood up, still holding the cushion. “Wherever you go after tonight,” she said, “wherever you end up, just make sure to keep away from the riverbank. The River’s angry. The floods are coming.”

The floods are coming. The floods were always coming, but Rownie couldn’t remember a time when they actually came. It was just something people said—though there was a difference to the way Vass said it, as though the floods were coming soon.

Rownie wanted to ask what she meant, but Vass was no longer paying attention to him. Her eyes lost their focus and looked somewhere else.

“My charm is now ended,” she chanted softly. “The knots are untied.” Rownie felt the air change around them. He felt the world change shape to her words.

The lights went out. Rownie heard Vass leave the railcar in the dark.

Various Grubs shouted their protests outside. They spoke like Grubs now, and not like Graba.

“You’re a kack at the witchwork,” said Blotches. “Shouldn’t get to keep your name.”