Things got eerie after that, for Ferla spent another hour imitating the expressions of her own bullied and frightened children in the mirror. And, quite naturally, she resembled her children; in particular, she had the facial features of her daughter. There was a certain combination of anger, hatred, fear, and sick resignation that came together in Lovisa’s face sometimes. It was a complicated and believable expression and Ferla remembered it. Of course she did; she caused it. It was one of the trials of being the mother to such a girl.

Ferla searched her own face in the mirror, until she found it.

—

In very early morning, the fox scampered through the heat ducts up to the grate he’d converted in the Devrets’ attic. He hadn’t had much time in this house to convert grates yet. This was his one and only swinging grate, and his only access point to the paths inside the walls.

The fox stepped out onto the attic floor, trying to decide what it meant to be honorable and helpful and true.

Surely it didn’t mean the plan he was about to execute?

The fox pattered down from the attic, past the room where Ferla lay sleeping beside Benni, then made his way to the guest apartment stairs. An unlit lamp sat on a table at the top of the steps, for the use of the Cavendas at nighttime. The fox, who had excellent night vision, jumped lightly onto the table and inspected the lamp. It had, as he’d hoped, a wick, a glass globe, and, most importantly, a deep, open well of oil.

Before he could second-guess himself, because really this was a terrible, threadbare, hopeless plan, the fox shoved the lamp off the table in the direction of the staircase. It soared through the air and landed with a thud about two steps down, then, with a tinkle of glass and a series of smaller thuds, bumped on down the steps. He could see the oil, slick and shiny, illuminating much of the top half of the staircase.

The fox reached out quickly to touch every mind in the sleeping house. No one had woken from the noise, but one of the guards who stood outside the front door thought he might’ve heard something. He was trying to decide whether to come inside and investigate. The fox knew his time was short.

Quickly, he leaped under the table and pressed himself against the wall. Ferla Cavenda! he cried, shouting into her sleeping mind. Ferla Cavenda! Wake up! It’s me! WAKE UP!

Ferla started up in bed. Through her sleepy blur, she was astounded. Fox? she said. Fox?

It’s me! yelled the fox. Wake up!

I’m awake! What’s happening?

I’m alive!

Her mind was already spinning to determine what she could seize, if she had her fox at hand. That’s amazing! she said. That’s wonderful! I tried to save you, Fox!