Page 31 of The Baker and the Wolf

I spin toward him with a gasp, but no words come.

Rina, rigid with fury, mutters, “What did that woman do to my son?”

Barbaro says, “This morning, we were watched through the bakery’s front window. When I stepped outside, I heard the creak and groan of straining metal and thought I saw a large humanoid figure return to its plinth. I couldn’t believe my eyes, but Cerise’s story fills in the blanks.”

Rina swallows hard, dabs at her eyes, and tries again. “Barbaro, do you think he might still be alive . . . in there?”

He slowly nods. “From the beginning I centered my investigation around the city square because of the latent magic there. I could never pinpoint the magic’s source, but this morning ended all doubt.” Barbaro’s voice is gruffer than usual. “The statue contains entangled human and fae magic.”

When I realize the implications, my heart stills, then gives a great bound. “My papa? You really think he might be trapped inside the statue?” I croak, ready to jump at Barbaro to force an answer from him.

He studies his clenched fists. “The statue’s human magic matches the magic that powered the second blast, and it’s akin to yours, Cerise. What I don’t understand is why the magic that powered the first blast, at least twenty years ago, also reminded me of yours. It was not your father’s.”

“One of my grandparents’?” I suggest with a glance at Rina.

She shakes her head. “Gauthier hasn’t visited Chartreuse in at least forty years, and this is my first visit. The magic can’t have been ours.”

After a pause, Barbaro says, “I do have one other line of evidence. Among all of Gisella’s old neighbors, I found one who does remember her as a child.”

“Who?” I ask abruptly.

“She requested anonymity,” Barbaro says.

Rina huffs. “Doesn’t want to make an enemy of the mayor’s wife.”

Barbaro’s brows quirk. “Can you blame her? This witness lived and worked in a shop down the street from the bakery until she married and moved across the continent. Just three years ago, widowed and childless, she returned to Chartreuse to care for her aging parents. She remembers Gisella as an annoying brat who had only one little friend that she pretty much tyrannized. She thinks both girls might have worked at the bakery.”

Questions pile up in my thoughts while I listen, but Rina says, “I don’t see how Gisella’s childhood affects our investigation. Does this person recall her wedding to Gerard DuBois?”

“No. When she left Chartreuse, Gisella was still a child. As far as I can tell, no one in the city remembers their wedding, and I could find no license or record.”

Rina huffs. “No matter. We must focus now on liberating Gerard from the statue and separating that woman from the fae artifact, or whatever binds the magic to her.” She frowns, mutters something sharp under her breath, then asks, “You say the statue followed you this morning? Were you seen entering the pocket-world door?”

“I don’t believe so, but it . . .henow knows its general location.”

Rina rubs her forehead. “Only you can open the door, but he could destroy it if that monster woman ordered him to. My poor Gerard!” She pulls in her lips and bites down on them, staring at the floor. “So many holes in our knowledge, yet something must be done to free him.”

I have my own thoughts. “All those times we heard metallic clanks, grinding, or squeals, it was the statue? With my papa trapped inside?”

Barbaro nods. “It, and he, are under Gisella’s control. For obvious reasons, she can’t move it when people are around.”

“But it can see us and hear us?”

Rina speaks up. “More likely, Gisella can see and hear through the statue.”

My mother might have watched me stop and talk to that statue nearly every day for more than ten years now, since I first started working at the bakery. I bend over and rub my face with both hands. This is too much to take in. So strange . . . and yet, it all fits. Answers, at last, for the unspoken questions in the back of my mind, the emptiness in my spirit, the lost memories, and my lost magic.

I straighten in my chair and ask, “So, what do we do? Today, I mean.”

Rina’s answer is crisp and concise. “We must plan a trap.”

“A trap for what?” I don’t like the sound of this.

“For Gisella, of course. It will be risky, but I think we can manage it. She did express a desire to meet me, after all. I’ll give you one guess what she’s after.”

Surprised by my grandmére’s casual tone, I blink twice. “Do you think she really believes she could stealyourpower?”

She gives me a sadly amused look. “Do you believe she could be content to draw on your power when she might acquire mine as well? And then Gauthier’s? And why not Barbaro’s? People like her are never satisfied, Cerise.”

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