“What are you talking about?” But even as she said it, Ursula realized that a few tears had slid down her cheek. She started to wipe her eyes, but Zee pulled her hand away. “You’ll ruin your makeup,” she whispered. “Let me do it.”

Zee opened her purse, pulling out a tissue, and she dabbled Ursula’s cheeks. “I also cried the first time I saw La bohème,” she whispered.

“You’re an opera fan?”

“I love the romance. Puccini understood how it felt to get swept away by love.” There was something wistful about the way she spoke, and her eyes glistened. The ice princess had disappeared for just a moment, until her clear gaze focused again. “But we’re not here for the music. Where’s the target?”

“Up there.” Ursula nodded at the box on the upper level, where Hugo still sat whispering with Virginie. Maybe this was going to be easier than she’d anticipated.

The first act ended, and Ursula sucked in a long breath. It’s now or never. She turned to Zee. “Can we approach them in the booth? Would you be able to glamour his girlfriend again?”

“Of course.”

Zee slipped out of the box, and Ursula followed. In the hall, patrons mingled with glasses of wine. Zee slipped between them, like a deer weaving between trees in a forest, and Ursula hurried along behind her.

“Thank you for helping me, Zee.”

“Of course. It’s what I’m paid for.” She stepped into a curving flight of stairs. “But you must relax. You look nervous.”

“I’m not nervous. I’m dreading my part in this.”

“Oh. The whole eternal torture thing. Well, Hugo asked for it.”

“Do you think there’s another way out, without me collecting souls?”

Zee shot her a sharp look. “Keep your voice down. And, no. What Kester says is the truth, or he’d have freed himself ages ago. You think he likes it any better than you do?”

“You trust him?” Ursula desperately wanted to ask Zee about the bleeding man in her apartment. What if he needed help—and what if Kester had put him there? She choked down the questions for now.

“Of course I trust Kester. I’ve known him a very long time.” They reached the top of the stairs—Hugo’s level. “I don’t think he likes collecting souls any more than you do. But there is no other option, believe me.”

They strode down the hall toward Hugo’s box, and Ursula clutched her wyrm-skin purse. “Do you know why Kester carved his mark?”

“Yes, but it’s not for me to tell.” Zee paused at a door. “I think this is Hugo’s. Do you want me to go in first?”