Chapter 34

The month went too fast, and it went too slowly, and it cost more than I had thought a month could cost.

That is the thing about a deadline: you think you are carrying it, and all along it is carrying you. I woke up every morning and counted. Twenty-six days. Nineteen. Twelve.

The house counted with me. It just didn’t know what it was counting.

The ward-witch came every Monday, a tiny bent woman from the city who smelled of burnt sage and walked every post from the gate to the forest with her eyes closed, muttering. Every Monday, she found nothing. Wolves walked the rose walk every night in pairs. The pups were kept in after dusk and didn’t know why. Nana Odette asked me twice what was going on and I said it was a King’s matter, and the second time she looked at me for a long moment over her glasses and said, “Then I hope the King knows what he’s doing, dear,” in a voice that meant she didn’t think either of us did.

And Caspian looked at everyone.

He di