“That fiend,” he spits.

And there it is. The tone of Loup’s voice, that bitter loathing, could only be used to talk about the Tiger.

Of all the children of the Miracle Court, the Ghosts prize the Law above the rest. Many years ago, Kaplan broke the Law; he twisted it to his needs and never paid the consequences. His existence is a blasphemous outrage to all, but especially to the Ghosts.

“If you bring me to where the Dead Lord is,” I say, “I’ll give you revenge. You see, I have something the Tiger wants, and your Father can take this prize from him.”

Loup hesitates, and I can see I’ve piqued his interest. The Ghosts are many things, and one of them is curious. Their Father is famous for his stories and legends. I must make this engaging.

“Master, this is my tale.” I raise my voice, spreading my arms out dramatically in my best impression of a storyteller. “My sister is desired by the Tiger.”

“And what have the children of the Dead to do with the Lord of Flesh?” Loup asks.

“She has no Guild, no family to protect her. The Thief Lord won’t cross the Tiger. We asked Lady Corday and Lady Komayd, and they told us only Orso is unafraid of the Tiger. And rightly so, for with such numerous children as he has, whom should he fear?”

The Ghosts are beside themselves, echoing my words until the cavern is loud with their whispers.

“I will give my sister to the Dead Lord as a gift.”

Beside me, Ettie gasps. “Nina! Please!”

I ignore her.

Loup comes toward Ettie, inspecting her. She shudders and steps away from him.

“Where is he?” I ask. “Where is the Dead Lord?”

“In a place we cannot remember,” Loup says. The Ghosts always speak in riddles.

I try again. “What place, Master Loup?”

Loup looks at me. “A place you cannot enter. We have lost many to trying already,” he says, his voice a low warning.

That’s what Corday said too. Because everyone else has failed.

I’m confused, but I won’t let them know it. I need them to take Ettie—it’s her only chance. I shake my head confidently.

“I’m the Black Cat of the Thieves Guild; there’s no place I can’t enter.”

Loup turns to survey the Ghosts. His eyes wander over them. Then he raises a hand and points. Four of the Ghosts rise and glide toward us noiselessly.

“Thank you.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“We are grateful.”

“We are grateful.”

Ettie edges near. “What are they doing?”

“I think they’re coming with us.”

“Gavroche knows the way.” Loup indicates the small boy.

“Gavroche.” Ettie looks down at him. “Is that your name?”

He nods and pulls at Ettie to start off.

I hear a muffled yell from St. Juste.

“I will also need the boy—the Day Walker,” I say hurriedly. “He is known to me, and I need his skills.” I have no idea whether this is true, but I owe him for the night he saved me from the Fleshers.