Page 141 of Fallen Nocturne

I glance toward the merchant’s horse, still pulling nervously against its tether.

“Can you become something the horse desires?” I ask.

Miss Bernadette looks over her shoulder.

“Of course.”

One moment she wears Bernadette’s face. The next, a mound of bright red berries lies in the road.

For a heartbeat, Blaire and I only stare.

The horse surges against its tether, stretching its neck toward them.

I grab one of the berries and hold it out with shaking fingers. The horse snaps it from my palm and strains harder, desperate for more.

Blaire understands at once. She scrambles forward, scoops up both hands full of berries, and thrusts them toward the horse.

A finch lands on the pile. Then another. More birds descend from the surrounding trees, drawn by the sudden feast. They hop across the road, curious and bold, pecking at the scattered berries.

“Feed them too,” I whisper.

Blaire scatters a few across the dirt and more birds drop from the branches, pecking and squabbling. Her pigeon wriggles free from her hair and joins them. They swarm over the bright red fruit, tearing into Miss Bernadette’s chosen form while the horse devours everything within reach.

While the horse chews, I fumble with the knot. My fingers are clumsy with fear, but the rope finally loosens.

The animal lunges forward, eating every berry the birds have not already stolen.

“Run,” Blaire gasps.

We scramble from the bushes and race into the forest, Blaire’s pigeon clinging desperately to her shoulder.

Miss Bernadette’s furious wail tears through the trees behind us. She is trapped inside the horse and the birds until every stolen piece of her finds its way back to the earth.

We do not stop running until the road and her screams are far behind us.

That was years ago. I am no longer seven. I am no longer hiding in a ditch.

I open the door.

Miss Bernadette steps through it.

She has chosen to take the form of a bear. White as salt, her paws leaving cracks in the plateau stone where she sets them down. She sits back on her haunches and regards me with small dark eyes.

Rhianelle, she says in my mind, her voice rich with amusement. You’ve grown.

“Will you fight?” I ask.

Not for you.

Her gaze slides sideways, slow and deliberate, until it settles upon Blaire standing in my armor.

Miss Bernadette’s lips peel back from her teeth.

For her.

Cold settles inside my chest. I look toward Blaire, expecting to see the same terror I felt all those years ago.

She does not even flinch.