The lynx paused. Then very slowly, as if in a dream, she slumped forward into his chest and rolled off him. Lukasz didn’t wait. He scrambled back to his feet, panting.
Lukasz put his hands on his knees and looked between the unconscious lynx and Koszmar. White-faced and white-knuckled, the major had a shovel clutched in his hands.
Two more people hung back at the edge of the street, but it was otherwise empty.
Lukasz pushed his hair back.
“Did you just hit her with a shovel?”
Koszmar hugged the shovel to his chest and said, in a very small voice:
“Well, er . . . you weren’t doing very well.”
“Yeah, no kidding!” Lukasz gestured to the lynx. “Did you see her? Oh God—”
The lynx was changing back. The fur was receding, her limbs lengthening once more. Long dark hair covered the cobblestones, masking her face. Lukasz had a glimpse of one pale, blue-veined shoulder, before he realized—a little too late—that she was completely naked.
He slapped a hand over his eyes.
“Oh my God, now what do we do?”
Lukasz was a far cry from a gentleman. But he owed this girl—this monster, this . . . queen? Whatever she was, he thought. He owed her. She’d pulled him out of the river. She’d saved his life. And now . . .
“Don’t be a prude,” Koszmar was saying somewhere.
There was the sound of fabric rustling over stone. Lukasz could feel blood trickling into his shirt collar, where her teeth had caught his throat.
“We’ve just got to put her clothes back on,” Koszmar was saying. “Besides, not like she’s human anyway.”
Lukasz rocked backward on his heels slightly, uneasy. It wasn’t that simple, he wanted to say. It wasn’t just about garguleci or monsters or following some unambiguously mapped path to Franciszek and the Mountains. For better or for worse, this girl had saved his life.
“You can open your eyes,” said Koszmar. “You’re quite the gentleman for being a Wolf-Lord, you know that?”
Lukasz put his hand back on his belt. Koszmar was standing with her supported on his shoulder. Her shirt was on backward and she had a big cut on her cheek. A mask of blood encased the left side of her face.
“Oh my God,” he said. “You really brained her.”
“Like I said,” returned Koszmar. He had recovered himself. With truly astounding elegance, he used his free hand to produce his pipe from his pocket and put it back between his teeth. “You weren’t doing very well.”
“Right,” said Lukasz, looking between the girl and the cavalryman.
“Do you think this is her?” asked Koszmar.
He pushed the dark hair off the girl’s face. Dark hair and green eyes. She was definitely the same girl from the water. She’d pulled him out. Or, he thought, with a sudden, sinking feeling: Had she also pulled him in?
Could they be the same . . . ?
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” said Koszmar.
“What?”
“Your face,” said the Wrony. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” Lukasz rubbed his eyes. “I’m fine. What were you asking?”
“I said, do you think this is the girl Rybak was talking about? The . . . queen.”
The way he said it, the word sounded faintly insulting.
Lukasz glanced around. The two remaining villagers had now disappeared. He half expected Rybak to appear at any moment. Then again, Rybak probably hadn’t left his personal tinderbox in six years.
“Why does it matter?”
“You want to go to the Mountains, don’t you?” asked Koszmar.
“Yes,” said Lukasz, before catching himself: “No. No. I want to find my brother.”
“Who’s headed to the Mountains,” spelled out Koszmar. He gestured with one hand, as if encouraging a very slow-witted soul to arrive at a very simple conclusion. “And how are we going to get to the Mountains?”
“Rybak—”
“The man can’t even organize his damn papers, Lukasz,” interrupted Koszmar, instantly impatient. “Can you actually trust him to organize a route to the Mountains?”
“I don’t trust you,” pointed out Lukasz.
“A wise decision,” agreed Koszmar. “But our interests are aligned. You want your brother, I want the Dragon, and regrettably, all roads lead through this forest. And you and I need to make a choice quickly. Those villagers are coming back soon.”
He hoisted the unconscious queen a little higher on his shoulder and added, “And she isn’t getting any lighter.”
Król had wandered over and now nosed curiously at the girl. Lukasz wasted a second watching his horse before glancing back at Koszmar.
“What are you saying?”
The moonlight caught Koszmar’s long white teeth, and for one ridiculous moment Lukasz couldn’t help wondering if