Thalia gripped the wheel and prayed the temperature gauge would drop. It climbed instead. Two hours from Grimwood, on a back mountain road, her engine coughed and died. She had left her college for fall break to go home and see her family. Now steam hissed from under the hood, and the cold pressed against the windows. She tried the key again. The engine clicked and gave nothing. Her chihuahua whined on the passenger seat, blue bandana bright against his brown fur. "I know, buddy," she said. "I know." It was two in the morning. No lights, no houses, no other cars. Thalia pulled her cardigan tight over the green dress and stepped out. The autumn air bit through her leggings. She scooped up the dog, tucked him against her chest, and started walking. Her boots crunched on gravel. Her breath fogged. She told herself the next bend would show a farmhouse, a phone, anything. Her phone was dead. The road curved, and the trees opened. A castle rose against the sky. Dark stone. Thin spires like needles. Faint gold light glowed behind the high windows. Her heart pounded. She had never seen anything like it. The iron gate stood before her. She pushed, expecting resistance. It swung open without a sound. Thalia stepped into a wide courtyard. "Hello?" she called. Her voice bounced off stone and came back empty. "Is anyone here? My car broke down." No one answered. She crossed to the great door and found it unlocked too. Inside, candles burned along the walls. A fire crackled in a hall bigger than her whole apartment. Warm air wrapped around her. But no people. "Hello?" she said again, softer now. The dog trembled. "Madam." Thalia spun her heart pounding from the fright of the sound. A man stood behind her, though she had heard no footsteps. He wore a black tailcoat and white gloves, every seam pressed sharp. Gray streaked his hair. His mustache was neat. His eyes studied her with a calm that felt too steady, as if her arrival surprised him not at all. "Where did you come from?" he asked. His voice was smooth and old-fashioned. "I am Cedric. The master of the house is currently preoccupied." "My car stalled down the road," Thalia said. "I saw the lights. I just need a phone." Cedric's mouth curved, but his eyes stayed cool, he studied Thalia like he had recognized her. "There is no phone here, madam." He glanced at the dog, then at her wet boots. "You are cold. Master will allow you to stay the night. A room has been prepared." "Prepared," Thalia repeated. "You didn't know I was coming." "Didn't we?" Cedric turned toward the stairs and lifted a candle. "This way." Thalia looked back at the door at some point it had shut but she never heard it. Then she followed him in. She felt weird but this was her only option.