Even across the room, Mouse could see the resemblance between Thornwood and the woman, with her hair and outraged expression. Thornwood grinned at her, running his hands along her cheeks.
Sharp pangs rocked through Mouse’s heart at the sight. There was joy for Thornwood and his mother but also jealousy, as Mouse knew that no such reunion awaited her. All she could hope for now was a day when her brother might remember her face.
Thornwood pulled away from his mother and searched the crowd. His face brightened when he saw Mouse. It was unfair how handsome he was in the chaos of a collapsing building. Mouse dashed to them, avoiding a collection of Faerie tigers, hares, and elk.
Viola and the Faerie King remained still in the center of the room. Mouse wasn’t sure that the Faerie King had even noticed that Thistlemarsh was collapsing. Although Mouse could not make out the words, she could see the Faerie King’s lips moving.
“Mouse,” Thornwood shouted as soon as she reached him. He pulled his chains tight, but there was no give. His mother lifted one for as long as she could stand the iron before dropping it. Scorch marks marred her hands. Mouse nodded to her, and she gave Mousea bewildered bow before returning to her vain attempts to break Thornwood free.
“You are a damn fool,” Thornwood barked. “Why did you come back? You could have died!”
“That’s gratitude for you,” Mouse snorted. She took off his ring, slipping it over his knuckle into place. It let off a burst of light, and color returned to Thornwood’s cheeks, but the chains remained. Cursing, Mouse pulled out her keys and attempted to push them into the locks on his wrists. The cuffs did not budge.
The ceiling broke into shards and rained down on the room in a mist of silver. Chandeliers crashed to the floor, sending their candles rolling. Some flames guttered out, while others flickered dangerously.
“Get my mother out of here. I’ll be fine.”
“Now who is the damn fool?” Mouse asked.
“I am not leaving,” his mother snapped at the same time.
“Both of you are impossible!”
A cry rose from the hallway, and a thumping sound grew closer.
“What is it now?” Mouse whispered, putting herself between the doorway and Thornwood with her sword.
Thornwood scoffed behind her. “What do you intend to do with that?”
“Use you as a pincushion, if you don’t be quiet,” she hissed.
A man materialized in the entryway in clothes as black as night.
“Mickelwaithe!” Thornwood exclaimed. The Faerie servant raised an eyebrow at them, his classic half smile, half grimace forming on his lips.
John must have rubbed the acorn cap, Mouse thought.He has a gift for good timing.
“Well done, sir. I see your plan was a riotous success,” Mickelwaithe said.
Thornwood scowled. “Is this the time? Take my mother and Mouse out of here. Viola’s done something to bring the whole place down.”
Mickelwaithe did not move.
“Did you hear me?” Thornwood asked, a desperate edge in his voice. Mickelwaithe did not respond. “Fine, you were right about everything. I admit it, and I am sorry that I doubted you. There, will that suffice?”
The Faerie servant tilted his head. “I appreciate your apology, sir, but I await Mouse’s orders. I came here to help her.”
Thornwood blinked.
“Didn’t you notice that his deal with you broke as soon as Mr.Hobb captured you?” Mouse asked before she turned to Mickelwaithe. “Can you undo this chain?”
Tilting his head again, Mickelwaithe leaned in close. “The magic is too complicated for me to undo before the house collapses.”
“Right.” Mouse turned to Thornwood’s mother. “Please, go with Mickelwaithe. I know that you want to help, but Thornwood will only be distracted if you stay, and you aren’t well enough to break these chains yourself. You must know how useless he can be when distracted.”
The Faerie woman scowled, and Mouse saw so much of her son in the expression that she almost laughed aloud.
“Fine,” Thornwood’s mother said. She had a subtle, elegant lilt, and Mouse wondered if it was as much of a show as Mouse’s own posh accent. “Do not leave my son here to die, no matter what he might say.”