“I’m not a demon,” Anastacia bit out. Her form billowed. Fingertips and hair swelled into vapour. She swallowed and reeled herself back in. “And I don’t want to be the last guest at the party.”

Her despair gave Viktor no pleasure. But it propelled her in the necessary direction. Another nudge, and she’d be there. “Nor need you be.”

For the first time since entering the chapel, she reached out. Her fingers traced the gold of the branch-like inlay.

“I confess, it is very beautiful. And warm to the touch. With my mother’s magic.” She frowned. “How is such a thing possible?”

“Its maker was gifted in more ways than one,” said Viktor. “It’s stronger than it appears, and lighter. He put a piece of his soul into the work, I think.”

“Such is the way of all true artists,” Anastacia murmured. “It must have cost you dearly.”

Viktor shared a glance with Calenne. Yorvin had gaped at a final payment far in excess of that promised. Viktor hoped it soothed the old man’s fears of betrayal.

“Nothing I wasn’t prepared to pay.”

Her head snapped up, eyes unfriendly once more. “Why?”

“Because the Southshires need Josiri, and Josiri needs you. And you need freedom.”

“So this is a bribe? My freedom, so long as I serve as herald to your coming?”

“To do with as you wish. I only ask that you try to convince Josiri to good sense.”

“It is a bribe.”

He hesitated but nodded. “Yes.”

To Viktor’s surprise, Anastacia smiled. “Then for the first time, I feel like I understand you. But you do know I can’t accomplish this alone?”

A lump formed in the pit of Viktor’s stomach. “What do you mean?”

“Karkosa’s enchantment. It took the efforts of a dozen proctors, but he bound me tight. It’s like . . . nails through my flesh, pinning me in place. Even testing the bonds is agony. I can feel the . . . the . . .” She glared at Calenne. “The doll calling to me. It’s the same, but different. If I lose myself . . .”

She grimaced. When her expression cleared a little of the old confidence had returned. “I need your help.”

“Viktor . . .” Calenne stepped into the lantern light. “What’s she talking about?”

Viktor stifled a scowl. He should have sent her away. He should never have involved her as much as he had. But hindsight was fool’s gold and rusted steel. If he didn’t tell Calenne, Anastacia would. And then he’d have no control over how she reacted.

Anastacia laughed, though without malice. There was an almost childish joy to it, as one already privy to a secret that would only appal when revealed. “She doesn’t know. How charming. But then, she has led a sheltered life.”