Iron was anathema to undead creatures, which was why I no longer kept a ring of it around our cottage. Likewise, it would have been rude to wear it openly on my gown, where every necromancer at the ball could have seen it…but it never hurt to hide a few weapons underneath my skirts.

I took a quick look at the hand-mirror nearby to check the placement of all the decorative little butterfly-shaped clips that were clustered around my short hair, and I patted the bee-shaped metal pendant on the short chain of my necklace, settling it perfectly into the hollow of my throat.

Then I turned to find Leander and my father watching each other with careful smiles.

“You don’t have to worry about Mia tonight,” Leander said. “I assure you, I’ll make certain of her safety.”

“Oh, Mia can take care of herself,” said Dad. “She always does. She’ll take care of everyone else, too, if you let her…but then, you’ve worked that out already, haven’t you?”

“Ahh…” Leander looked more rattled than any of the bones in his big black castle. One long finger twitched towards his creamy neckcloth before he managed to restrain himself. “I understand,” he said.

“That’s good.” Dad gave him a firm nod. “Have a good time, then, both of you. Just remember…” His blue eyes hardened. “Mia isn’t actually on her own, no matter how it might sometimes appear. I didn’t always spend my life doing puzzles, but I’m good at solving them now. All kinds.”

“Dad…” My throat choked up, a mass of confused emotions and memories suddenly swirling through me.

“Shh.” He shook his head at me as if he could hear all of the unspoken words tangled up inside me. “You go have fun. I have work to do.”

Picking up a pencil, he flipped to the next page of his puzzle book.

I took a deep breath and walked out through the door, and Leander let out a breath of what sounded like intense relief as he followed me.

The carriage that waited for us outside was as black as his castle and pulled by four giant horse skeletons with torch-like red eyes and eerily whistling bone chimes hung all along their reins. The minion who sat atop the carriage holding those reins waved cheerfully to us with his scabrous free hand as we emerged, hooting out a welcome. He was the first of Leander’s minions I’d ever repaired, and I’d done it before I’d worked out how to deal with undead voice boxes; I frowned now as I waved politely back at him.

“I should take another look at him. I think—”