Page 88 of The House Saphir
Tightening her hand around her dagger, she searched for Constantino, wondering what was taking so long. Why hadn’t he shotthe bear as well? He did know she was here, didn’t he? About to become this bear’s dinner?
“Nice bear,” she whispered, lifting the knife again, knowing it would do nothing. Louder, she called out shakily, “A little more help, please?”
The beast growled, low and ominous, eyeing the blade in her hand.
Then it huffed and sat back onto its haunches with an ungracefulkerflumpfand started licking its wounds.
Mallory gaped at it, distantly wondering if her heartbeat would ever slow down after the night she’d had.
Constantino appeared beside the beast, approaching without a hint of concern. He wasn’t even holding the bow anymore, but had it tossed onto his back. He kicked at the ground with the toe of a gold-buckled boot, then stooped to pick up a small rock.
No—a delicate glass figurine, about the size of Mallory’s thumb. A horse, rearing back on its hind legs.
Constantino tucked it into a pouch on his belt, before holding out a hand toward Mallory. “Buona sera, stellina. I had hoped we would meet again.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
“You have a pet bear,” she muttered in disbelief, waiting for her legs to stop shaking before she could trust herself to accept Constantino’s assistance.
Constantino guffawed, and as soon as Mallory was securely on her feet, he gave the bear a jovial whap. “Hear that? You’re my pet now.”
The bear made a disgruntled noise, then went back to licking the gash on its arm.
“Suppose he’s difficult to recognize under that mangy fur,” said Constantino, “but this here is the boss. Come along. We caught up to your sister by the tree line. She’s probably worried sick for you. Let’s get back to the caravan and put on some coffee.”
Mallory had stopped listening afterthe boss.
As Constantino headed back to the trail, the bear stood, too, and plodded alongside him on four legs.
“You mean… that’sFitcher?”
“The one and only. You remember him, right? All stoic and serious.” Constantino lowered his voice to a deep rumble. “And he is especially handsome when he says cryptic things in that smoky voice.”
She could have sworn the bear rolled his eyes.
“Yes, I remember. Why is he a bear?”
“It’s a curse thing. Happens every full moon.” Constantino gestured to the horizon, where a hazy gray light suggested the approach of dawn. “He’ll be back to normal when the sun rises.”
Anaïs was waiting on the road, not far from where they’d been separated. She screamed Mallory’s name and charged for her, wrapping her into an embrace. “How many times can you escape death in one night?”
“I hadn’t meant to make it a habit.”
Constantino led them off the road, where animals had pressed the grasses into a path that continued through the woods. They had not gone far before they reached a meadow, in which stood the largest stagecoach Mallory had ever seen. The exterior was painted amethyst purple and accented in copper and gold. Ornate moldings framed numerous windows of various shapes and sizes, each with drawn crimson curtains. Metal boxes and traveling trunks in every color teetered in precarious stacks on the roof. A team of baukhauv—oxen-like beasts imported from Tulvask—grazed in the meadow, with no apparent interest in meandering off.
Constantino bounded into the stagecoach, leaving the door wide open. Far too enormous to fit through the narrow door, Fitcher stayed outside and started setting logs around a fire pit with his massive paws, creating a ring of makeshift benches. Thelogs would have taken two people, at least, to move them, but as a bear, he made quick work of the job.
Mallory glanced at her sister and found her staring back. They both knew it was unspeakably rude to barge into someone’s home without an invitation, regardless of whether or not that home was on wheels. Especially when one of those hosts happened to be a gigantic bear.
So Mallory was glad when Anaïs’s curiosity got the better of her first. With a giddy shrug, she lobbed herself into the coach. Mallory followed close behind. She heard Fitcher make a surprised grunt, but what was he going to do? Eat them?
The moment she stepped inside, Mallory was hit with an overwhelming wave of nostalgia. The air inside the stagecoach was warm and perfumed with cinnamon. It was dim, the curtains blocking out the impending daylight, though an array of colorful pillar candles ornamented every available surface.
It reminded her of the shop, back when their mother was the most admired witch in the entire province.
Two hammocks hung on one wall—one right above the other. Two traveling trunks were tucked beneath the cots, each one strapped shut with leather bands. An assortment of ornately patterned carpets littered the floor. Constantino was bustling in the back, digging a copper pot out from a cabinet so crammed full of porcelain dishes, it was amazing the pieces hadn’t shattered during their travels.
Other than the hammocks, traveling trunks, and makeshift kitchen, every inch of the space was lined with curio cabinets, each shelf protected by leaded glass.
