Rae glanced again at the open door—the other marvel in the chamber.

Hurrying to it, she peered up and down the long corridor. Empty. How could it be? She expected at any moment to hear approaching steps; she was sure whatever accident—dropped key, overhasty guard—had left the cell open would be corrected at once. And yet… perhaps…

Returning to the boy, she crouched beside him. Hesitantly, she put her hand on his shoulder. “Wol—” she started to say. No—this word was wrong. “The door is open,” she said instead, softly, as though to herself, the way she had been speaking to him now for weeks. “We have to leave. Quickly, before they notice.”

The gray eyes were unperturbed.

She held out her hand. Will he even know how to walk?

He did not move.

“Come,” she said, glancing at the door again. “Before the guard arrives.”

He sat, quiet and impassive, watching her with the same cloudy gaze.

“Please,” she said, beginning to panic. He was as large as she was, almost as large as a wolf: She could not carry him. And she would not leave him.

Hearing the edge in her voice, he tilted his head.

“Please,” she repeated. Still holding out her hand, she took a step toward the door. Now he understood. He wobbled, trying to balance on his feet and hands, but then, as though he had somehow always understood his human body, he stood upright. He swayed. Rae tucked her arm around the boy’s waist.

“I’ll help you,” she said. “Come.” She took another small step.

Unsteadily, he moved after her, a hesitant shuffling. But with each tiny step she took, he followed—followed her as he had been following her all this time. He shuffled and shuffled, his shadow-pale body, its rumpled-soft skin, mimicking her motions.

“There you are,” she said as they reached the hall.

From distant corners of the palace came noises of chaos—slamming doors, crashing things, shouts, and the boy’s eyes widened at the strange sounds.

Rae looked again down the dark corridor. Alba, she thought. She couldn’t leave her here.

Rae tightened her arm around the boy. “Come,” she said. “We need to find Alba.” Stepping, she tried to guide him down the sloping passageway, but the boy would not move.

“It’s all right,” she murmured. She pressed, urging him forward, but the boy locked his legs and leaned his weight against her. His eyes grew whiter. A whimpering came from his throat.

Rae looked again down the long hall. She didn’t want to descend farther into its darkness, either.

“All right. You don’t have to go,” she said softly. Removing her arm from him, she helped him lean against the wall. “You’ll need to wait here, though.” She held up a hand as if it would help him understand, but his expression was shaped only by pale terror. “I’ll run. I’ll come back as soon as I find her.”

As she took a step away, he whimpered again, a sound Rae thought might have come from her own throat. “I’ll be back, I promise,” she murmured before rushing down the corridor, the mewling following her into the darkness.