So... it's kind of long. It just happened that way. Sorry. Thanks for everyone who is reading! You that comment... most appreciated. Now, is there too much conversation in this chapter?

"And so, this little squirrel I've known for only a few days turns out to be the very man who should be in charge of this entire town!" The words were triumphant in Mimi's mouth, the kind of story she had heard all through her childhood, only awaiting some daring hero. "Running this manor!" She shook her wings as if they were arms. So useless for physical expression.

"All because of Lavender. Mm." Five words were the only sign Jacob had listened to her at all. His long, hooked nose was bent over the floured table where he busily kneaded some sort of sweet-smelling dough. The hazy scent of cinnamon filled the little kitchen.

"That's all you can say?" Mimi demanded. "You sound a little neutral to all of this. It's amazing!"

"Amazing, yes, if your squirrel friend is telling the truth." He grabbed a rolling pin and took it to the dough.

"You don't believe me or you don't believe him?"

"Oh, I believe both of you. It's just my nature to be contrary. I'm just trying to figure out what this… Duke Blake, I guess, has been doing all these years."

"He's been a squirrel."

"And…?"

Jacob was being contrary. Mimi sighed. "I don't know, Jacob! Doing… squirrel things. Looking for his brother, trying to find Lavender, which he did, which led to finding me, trying to get Lavender to change him back… what do people turned to squirrels do? Live in a tree eating nuts. I didn't ask him to chronicle his life. He just found out his brother was murdered. He was a little preoccupied with that."

"At least we've identified that man."

"He deserves more than what he got." Poor Blake. "I just want to know who killed him."

Jacob shrugged. "The Duke is my best guess. Eugen comes around, someone from the old days recognizes him… I think it's pretty simple to deduce what happened next."

"They could have hid the body, whoever did it."

"And ruin our delightful little drama of last night?" With a knife he cut and shaped the dough.

The hour was late, and the kitchen was empty save for the two of them, nobility and servants having long since eaten and gone. Cooking, baking, any of that, was something Jacob did when he was bored, he said, and Mimi was grateful for the conversation.

"He's a person, Jacob. Or was. How could you be so cruel?"

"Geeze, Mimi, I didn't mean it like that." He pounded down a lump of dough and shook his head. "We were all there last night. I was upset, too. A dead man is not a laughing manner. I'm the one who suddenly had the responsibility of everyone's safety thrown upon me. And now all day I'm getting different views on the subject. I'm sorry. I feel terrible the rightful duke was killed. I imagine he was a much nicer person than the freak that is the current duke. Again, I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too. I overreacted."

"But you are the one who said "or was" to his state," Jacob replied with the slightest of grins.

Mimi found herself smiling, too. Then she remembered Blake. She gazed at the door, wondering where he was, if he were safe, though the storm had long since dissipated and the sky even bore a few stars. "We shouldn't joke at a time like this."

"Come on. Something bad is always happening somewhere. When can you joke?"

"You're not exactly the type of.. whatever you are… I'd peg as a joker."

He shrugged and began putting the doughy rolls onto a pan. "Well, then I say one can always appreciate humor."

"What are you, anyway? I mean no offense. I'm just asking. What are you?" She tried to think of the perfect word. "Species wise?" Good as any.

He turned to her, face and body half-covered in flour, and smiled. "What do you think?"

"I think you're a lunatic who is talking to a goose. I don't know. That's an unfair question."

"Interesting. I thought the same about yours."

"No, it's fair. Maybe presumptuous. Was it presumptuous? Did I offend you?"

He certainly did not seem offended. Jacob grinned as if it were all the greatest joke in the world. He seemed to enjoy her curiosity. "No, I'm not offended. I've been asked it before."

"Well?" She hopped down from the stool on which she had sat, hoping to appear more aggressive, though in the end she just felt a stool's height shorter. "What are you? Goblin? Troll? Some race of dwarf?"

"Did you just call me a troll?"

"No, I asked if you were one."

"Do you think I am?"

She stared hard at him. "No. Trolls live in dark places, like under bridges or forests. So you couldn't be a troll."

"I'm flattered." He returned to his rolls. "Though I could be a troll who likes cooking."

"Don't trolls prefer their meat raw?"

"I couldn't tell you what trolls prefer. But I will say that some meat is very tasty with minimal cooking."

"Hm. Well, whatever you are, I think it's great you can cook."

He seemed genuinely pleased. "Thanks."

"So are you going to tell me what you are?"

He stepped down from his own stool to place the rolls in the bread oven. "How does the term "freak" sound to you?"

"I don't like it. Is that what you consider yourself?"

"I don't consider myself anything." Jacob dusted the flour from his clothes. "You know, Mimi, you sure are interested in everyone but you. You slice me apart, you're worried over your friend Blake… can I remind you that you're the one under a curse?"

He was right. "I guess I forgot about that in light of Eugen and Blake." Fury rose up in her. "And then you stand there like it is no big deal! How can you work for someone like that?"

"Technically, it was Michael who hired me. And I told you before. It's a job. In fact, it's a wonderful position. Besides, all of this happened long before I came here."

"Would Michael know anything about it?"

"Anything about what? This hostile take-over of the manor and city? Possibly, if he's been here long enough. He's never said anything to me."

"Where is he?"

"I have no idea. Why? Are you aiming to skulk around here? For what?"

That took her back. "… I'm not sure. I just want to help Blake. Maybe look for clues that the Duke really killed Eugen?"

"You mean go to the Duke's personal chambers?"

For a long time they simply stared at one another, apprehensive. Yet the interest was sparked.

"Would you know the way?" Mimi finally asked. "It's a big house…"

"I'm not an idiot, it's not that big, I fairly know my way around. But I'm a cook, Mimi. I could not even pretend to have any personal business with the Duke, not like the maids. I am not going to even pretend to clean up after someone, especially someone who is crazy."

"But it is late."

"And skulking is best done when it is late," he agreed.

And so they were off.

It was not yet midnight, and the manor did not hold quite the same eerie air of her two o'clock meetings. But as soon as they had passed the servants' quarters the halls dropped to pure silence. There was enjoyment in the spookiness, but Mimi was grateful to have a companion. She did not recognize the halls they passed, though she did wonder which room had been given to Prince Matthias. Was he thinking of her? Would he come tonight? Was he sleeping, resting until two o'clock? Of course, that question led to the more pertinent question of what she and Jacob could discover if everyone were asleep.

Jacob paused at a corner. Around it stood a large set of doors that reached from floor to ceiling. Two guards were posted at either side of the doors, though one appeared to be sleeping while the others sat playing cards.

"I'm fairly sure beyond there is the Duke's private quarters," Jacob said in the barest whisper.

"Sure is fancy enough. What are we supposed to learn if he's sleeping?"

"The first question is how do we get past them. The sleeping one, Carl, won't be a problem. If he's drunk anything tonight, he'll be out."

"You're serious about this!"

"Why not?" he asked with a shrug. "It's your idea."

"But there's guards…" She took a deep breath and stepped out from the corner.

None of the guards noticed. Carl snored loudly.

She glanced back at Jacob, who appeared to be amused, and honked loudly. The humiliating sound was enough to snare their attentions. The effect was hardly a dramatic reaction, but it was reaction enough.

"Is that the pet goose from the kitchen?" one asked.

Apparently she was making quite a name for herself.

"What's it doing out?" Another guard, a big man with a bushy red beard, stood up. "Here, goosey, goosey."

"That's not how you call a goose, you fool."

"Then you do it!"

Playing the trusting goose, Mimi approached them. After all, they didn't seem so threatening.

It turned out the "correct" goose call was some horrible fake honking that sent the other two guards into gales of laughter. One picked at a bit of meat he had and tossed it towards her.

She immediately thought of Jacob and the raw troll meat discussion. She gave another honk.

"What are you trying to do?" Jacob mouthed. He was pressed against the wall.

"Distracting them."

They certainly did seem distracted by a loose goose running about the manor. By then all three were on their feet.

With a final honk, she turned and darted.

"We can't have that bird loose here!" yelled a guard.

"It's just a goose."

"Michael and Jacob will be furious if they can't find that thing tomorrow. Carl can guard the stupid doors. I'm bored of it."

Apparently the guards were no more devoted to the Duke than anything else, because the idea of a literal goose chase sure became the plan of their night. Mimi ran into the shadow between torch sconces, thrilled as the men pounded after her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jacob, watching with amazement, as he was passed undetected. Then he slipped around the corner.

What had persuaded them to do this?

She rounded another corner. The guards were still after her, non-serious, treating it as the game of the night, jesting with one another on catching a goose. They must really be hard up for entertainment. She paused for the briefest moment and stared at them with the vacant eyes she imagined on a real goose, then sprang back around the corner and under a covered table she had noticed before.

"Where did it go?"

"Yeah. I still have the bet on myself winning."

Lovely. Now she was a gamble. But she did not plan to spend the night racing through the halls. She closed her eyes and thought of the few spells she had ever learned from her father. Basic things, simple and practical. There was one… more of a skill than a spell… She thought of the hallway, deep, shadowy, and focused her voice there…

A goosey honk blasted through distant shadows.

"How did it get over there?" The men's footsteps faded.

She found herself already missing the chase. She slipped out from under the cloth and headed toward the grand set of doors. Jacob was there, looking bemusedly at the snoring Carl. "Mimi. You made it."

She tossed her head back. "It was my idea to skulk."

"I was the first one to bring up the word "skulk" if you remember. Now quiet." With a final glance at Carl, he pushed open a door.

Immediately Mimi was struck by how stupid and random this plan was.

They entered a small, elaborate room bordered with doors save for one broad window that opened onto the gardens. The carpet beneath her was so soft even her light bird body sunk into it. Moonlight hazily revealed fine chairs, large vases, flowers… this was where Blake and his brother were raised.

"Now what do we look for?" she asked.

"A knife? That seemed to be the weapon."

"The Duke probably would have stashed it."

"Well, then why are we here?"

"I was just thinking that." She spread her wings and flew to the long bench under the window. "Maybe His Madness saw the Duke from here. The real Duke." But the shadowy grounds did not look familiar.

Behind them, a door opened.

Jacob swore under his breath.

"What are you doing here?" demanded a deep voice.

The Duke. His Madness. He had killed people. Eugen. He would probably kill Jacob for this intrusion. Her heart twisted.

He was a big man, both in height and girth. His body was tall and thick, with a pasty face and a bulging belly covered with a dressing gown. His feet were bare and thick. He was old. That surprised Mimi. His hair, though wavy, was a mess of grey and white streaks, and lines marred his face.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded again. "You were told not to come back."

It was then Mimi realized he was not speaking to Jacob. He was not even looking at Jacob. His Madness stared into the moonlight where nothing else was, fists shaking, eyes unblinking.

"Don't speak to me so!" he shouted. "I rule this city!"

He was sleepwalking.

She and Jacob exchanged glances.

"It's mine!" His voice shook. "He'll take it from me. It's why he's here. He isn't happy with his lot and he wants mine!"

Was he confessing to murdering Eugen?

Jacob nodded toward the doors, and in relief Mimi ran toward them.

"I must stop him!" cried the Duke.

Jacob slammed the door shut. The other guards were not back yet, and Carl was still sound asleep.

"Those must be the worst guards ever," she muttered.

"No one cares for His Madness." Jacob sprinted as fast as he could away from the door, which wasn't very fast. "Did you see the example of his name?"

"Oh, yes."

They did not pause until they reached the kitchen. Jacob collapsed on the floor, cringing. "Sorry. I'm not really built for running. What were we thinking back there?"

"No idea. How stupid are we? He was sleepwalking, right?"

Jacob nodded. "Yes. I've heard the guards say he does. All the time. But still, that was terrifying."

Mimi nodded. She could barely move. "But I think he was talking about killing Eugen."

"Dreaming about it," agree Jacob. "Reliving it. But what was that about not being happy with is lot? According to you, he threw Eugen from place. Probably tried to kill him then!"

"That man really is crazy." She sniffed the air. "Is something burning?"

Jacob pulled out the rolls. They were burnt to a crisp. "Great. All my boredom for nothing."

"You should read a book when you're bored."

"I can't read, and why are you talking about books right now?"

"You're talking about rolls." She stretched her wings. "I don't care. I just want to sleep after all of that."

"What about the Prince?"

She groaned. "Prince Matthias. I nearly forgot. I told him I'd meet him tonight."

"Well, it will soon be two o'clock. Are you just going to forget about him?"

She thought of the Prince's handsome, eager face. "You're right."

"You should take him the burned rolls."

Mimi was so tired she had to drag herself to meet the Prince. Even then she found it humiliating. What would he think of her?

He himself looked a little worse for the wear. The late nights were impacting him, too. Yet he was there, smiling and waiting, ready with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

"How thoughtful!" she said.

"You deserve something human, my spelled beauty." He frowned. "Does that sound right? It sounded so much better in my head."

She laughed and accepted the glass her offered. "I'll take it. I just like to have someone to talk to." She yawned.

"You're tired."

She nodded. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right. You should be sleeping. I just… I wanted to see you, Mimi. I can't stop thinking about you. Trapped in whatever spell you're under. Here."

"I bet you don't deal with these kinds of things back at your palace."

"Nothing like it."

She took a sip. It was very good.

"It will probably make you drowsier, I'm afraid." He settled onto the floor, and she joined him. It felt so good to be next to him, feeling the warmth of his body. "I went to the church today. In the city. I… I wanted to pay my respects. The Duke didn't want me to find out about the murder and to his credit it has not come up, but… well, I felt as a prince I had to do something."

"That's very sweet of you." She yawned again.

"I'm sorry." He took her hand and squeezed it. "I shouldn't have invited you here tonight. You should be sleeping."

Through her one precious hour as a human? And yet the invitation was so tempting. "I don't want you to think I'm avoiding you, Prince Matthias."

He laughed. "Apparently you do enough of that during the day. I insist. We can meet again another time."

"I promise I will. I'll be more interesting for you."

"You already are." He took the glass from her, set it on the floor, and stared at her.

She felt wonderfully uncomfortable under his gaze. She shouldn't feel that way. She wore a servants' dress, that terrible braid… but he didn't seem to see any of that.

And then he bent down and quickly pressed his lips against hers. The moment was brief, but it was fire.

He stepped back as soon as he was done, blushing red.

She smiled. And yawned.

"Goodnight, Mimi," he said.

"Goodnight," she replied.

Why did she have to be so tired?