Some minutes later, the fox scampered back to Ferla and Benni’s bedroom. He took the normal route, through the corridors. Pushing through the flap in their door, he crawled into his own little bed beside the fire, luxuriating in the warmth.

He raised his nose once, sniffing. The room smelled like a visit from Lovisa.

What had she done now?

Sighing, the fox stretched his tired mind around the house. But when he found Lovisa, she was in her own bed, asleep.

He wished sometimes that he didn’t care. His fox friends, especially his siblings, warned him that he shouldn’t care, especially not for a human to whom he wasn’t bonded; that caring led to dilemmas. But Lovisa and the fox had been children together. The fox had seen what it was like to be a child in this house. He’d watch her learn to lie, hide, sneak, just like a fox did. Then he’d watched her fall in love with each of her brothers, and begin lying, hiding, and sneaking on their behalf.

Could he help it if it had created a connection, a different kind of bond?

Suddenly the fox remembered something. Lovisa believed herself to have closed him in the attic. In the morning, he would have to be discovered closed in the attic.

How tiresome. The fox dragged himself to his feet, knowing he should probably go there now, in case anyone woke up and found him where he shouldn’t be.

Adventure Fox, he thought to himself wearily as he made his way through the heat ducts again. This was his chosen name. Not Fox, but Adventure Fox. Adventure for short.

Though he wouldn’t mind if the coming days involved a tad less adventure.

—

In the morning, Lovisa went down to breakfast not knowing what to expect. To her relief, she found the dining room empty of everyone but Viri and Erita.

Their eyes widened at the sight of her. “It’s you!” they said, both small, dramatic in their happiness, their freckled faces glowing with the hope that she was staying for a while. Most Keepish people had brown freckles in brown faces, but Viri’s and Erita’s were darker than usual, more noticeable. It was cute.

“It is I,” she said, sitting down with a smile, waiting for someone to pour her some tea. “Did either of you spend any time in the attic room yesterday?”

“No!” said Erita. “We’re not stupid. Mother is angry, so we’ve been good. Mostly! Vikti has a cold.”

“Poor Vikti. Where’s Mother?”

“Yelling,” said Viri.

“Oh? Who’s she yelling at?”

“A guard,” said Viri. “She fired him.”

It shouldn’t surprise her; she’d made a conscious decision to sacrifice him. Still, a ball of sick dropped to the pit of Lovisa’s stomach. “Why?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.