"Then I can understand your urgency in finding her. Still, the selfish part of me wishes I had a bit more time to figure you out."

I didn't know what to make of this statement, so didn't respond. Then I chided myself for the possibilities that had sprung into my mind. The most likely explanation was that he was interested in learning more about my people and our way of life.

The carriage halted in front of the Fae-mily Home, and Tom helped me from the cab, his hesitation revealing a temptation to walk me inside. But it was nearing dinnertime, and I expected he had someplace else to be.

"I know you'll be fine, Anya, as you continue your travels," he said, sounding more like he was assuring himself than me. "But if you do run into trouble, you can get word to me through any Constabulary station. And don't be afraid to drop my name if you need to open a few doors. I may be young, but as one of Luka Ivanova's handpicked officers, I'm pretty well-known in the Territory."

"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind." I hesitated, chewing on my lower lip. "I probably shouldn't ask this-I mean, it's not really any of my business-but do you like working for the Lieutenant Governor?"

"I'd rather work for him than anyone else." Tom shrugged. He perused my face, then cleared his throat. "I'd better be on my way, but I've really enjoyed our time together. Getting to know someone like you is one of the more pleasant aspects of my position."

With a respectful nod, he turned and approached the carriage, leaving me alone and befuddled. I entered the Home, then turned to watch from the window as he gave one of the horses drawing the buggy a scratch and a kiss on the nose before hopping back inside the cab. With a flick of the reins, the driver sent the horses off at a trot, and the carriage disappeared from sight.

While Tom did have a purpose in seeing me, it now felt more like an excuse than a reason. What, then, could he be after? Concerned that he had muddled my judgment and prevented suspicion from setting in, I tried to clear my head. Then a refreshing idea struck me. What if he'd come all this way just to see me? I couldn't explain why that notion made me happy, other than that it was flattering to my ego. Still, I couldn't deny that I wanted Tom to have come here for no reason at all.

Frustrated with myself, I began to pace in front of the window, trying to temper my feelings with logic. Tom Matlock was a law officer in Tairmor, a career man, a human, and there was no reason for me to believe he had any special interest in me. Even if he did, I was promised to Davic. More than that, I wanted to be promised to Davic, although I didn't know how our relationship would work out in the long run.

The log in the fireplace in the corner of the entryway broke, and embers sprayed upward, reminding me of the winter solstice festival in the Great Redwood. I stopped my pacing, resolving to find Shea before Tom's visit perplexed me any further.

I turned toward the dining hall just as Fi emerged from a side room with a stack of clean towels that interfered with her vision. She nearly ran into me, the towels almost tumbling from her grasp as I sidestepped her. I caught the one that managed to part from its fellows, and Fi sighed in relief.

"Oh, thank goodness," she said, cheeks flushed. "Young reflexes. Actually, I was thinking about you a minute ago, and now here you are. How was your time with Tom? I mean, Officer Matlock. I suppose I should address him rightly no matter how much I see him."

"It was fine-very nice, I should say. He seems like a good man. Does he come here often, then?"

"Once in a while, more than the other Constabularies in the city. He works with the Lieutenant Governor, and since Luka keeps this place on its feet, Tom is bound to wander in and out. He's kind, dependable. Always asks if I need help before he goes, and won't leave a job half-done. And he's rather good-looking, wouldn't you say?"

I laughed at her teasing grin.

"Come on," she cajoled. "He'd be a fantastic catch for any young woman."

I shrugged and replaced the stray towel atop the stack in her arms.

"Sometimes people your age don't know a good thing when they see one," she said with a significant look, then motioned with her head to the other side of the entry.

I followed Fi into one of the stockrooms, where staff could fetch various supplies for the residents of the Home. Clean laundry adorned the shelves on one side, and woven baskets of dirty laundry occupied the floor space beneath.

"I was going to ask about Luka next," I ventured. "Unless you're thinking of playing matchmaker with him, as well?"

"My dear, I think Luka will be a bachelor forever. Every woman in this city has tried for that man. What is it you want to know?"

"I'm just generally curious. I take it he's not married. Does he have children?"

I was feeling a surge of inquisitiveness about Zabriel's family tree. Did he have human cousins? Or was his uncle the only heir to the family dynasty, making Zabriel highly important on this side of the Bloody Road as well as in Chrior?

Fi began shelving towels. "Luka isn't married and never has been, though of course there are always rumors about powerful men. Plenty of women have gone after the prestige of birthing an Ivanova heir and made claims, but unless you put stock in gossip, he doesn't have children. I believe that. Anything else wouldn't be in keeping with the honorable man I know him to be. Besides, if the Governor had a grandchild, legitimate or not, he wouldn't leave the child unacknowledged. William's death devastated his legacy."

I nodded, struck by Fi's loyalty to the Governor's son. Not having much experience with him, I didn't know if this was a good thing or a potentially perilous one.

"I wish there was a human heir in the Territory," I mused, and her eyebrows bounced in agreement, her thoughts tracking mine to Zabriel. "By the way," I went on, diverging from the topic, "have you seen Shea?"

"She left before you and Tom." Fi brushed past me to wave an old couple through the front door. "She said to tell you not to look for her until evening, which I guess is about now. Oh, and she said not to worry."

Shock rippled through me, crawling down my arms in vinelike tendrils. "Did she say where she was going?"

"Yes. She said she used to live in Tairmor and was going home." Fi patted my hand, recognizing the anxiety on my face. "She'll be back, really. She's human, after all, and surely she knows the city."

I forced a smile. "Yes, of course she'll be back. I'm just...on edge."

Fi accepted this and headed off toward the kitchen. I returned to the room where Shea and I had been sleeping, a steady stream of curse words running through my head. Knowing my friend had gone "home" did me no good whatsoever-she'd never told me where her family had lived, and looking for her in the enormous capital would be futile. I tugged on my long hair in frustration; there were so many things that could have happened to her.

Needing a distraction, I sat on my bunk, took the Anlace from its sheath, and ran a rag over its already gleaming length. But my mind refused to quiet. It wasn't just the Constabularies who posed a risk to Shea. As I had discovered, street people and criminal types roamed the poorer areas of the city. But the worst thought was that she could be in custody right now, kneeling in front of Governor Ivanova, and I had no ability to help her.

I cleaned the Anlace more vigorously, shining the pommel and the bright ruby that stared out from it, its beautification offering no assistance despite whatever royal mysteries it contained. Shea had warned me to be home before dark when I had ventured out to search for Evangeline, threatening the formation of a search party if I failed to follow her advice; she certainly would have heeded that advice herself. Yet pink streaks were quickly spreading across the sky, announcing the setting of the sun. What would I do if Shea never came back? How would I find out what happened to her? And how long could I afford to wait before moving on without her?

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

THE PLANK.

When the dinner hour arrived without Shea's return, I headed to the main hall. The frequent meals I was skipping were starting to show in my weight and in my stamina, forcing me to pay momentary attention to my health. I scrounged up a tray and dutifully stood in line, then found a secluded corner in which to poke at my food. This day had become impossibly long and dreary, and I wished I had risen with Shea and either prevented her from leaving or gone along with her.

The bang of a tray on the table jolted me to reality, and my head jerked up. Shea was standing across from me, hair windswept and cheeks rosy.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," she said, plopping herself down in a chair as if nothing was wrong. "You were still sleeping this morning and I didn't want to bother you. How are you feeling?"

I gaped at her, then clenched my teeth, trying to rein in my temper.

"How am I feeling? I'm feeling like you need to explain why four days ago Tairmor was too dangerous for you, but today you're suddenly safe on the streets."

"Look, I know it wasn't smart," she said, holding up her fork and knife in surrender. "But I had to see my home again. I had the impulse and the opportunity and just had to do it. I mean, I'm here for the first time in years. If it helps, I thought I would be back before you were awake-those herbs put you into a pretty heavy slumber." Looking a bit guilty, she added, "I didn't talk to anyone other than the officers who stopped me to check my papers. But they passed scrutiny, so no harm done."

It was clear she'd thought about how best to explain her actions, which made me leery of her story. But her almond eyes were innocently wide, and her complexion, honeyed from our travels, was free of telltale pink. I examined her, starting to feel that I was being too hard on her. Then my eyes landed on the shoulder of her cloak, where a ragged tear revealed the navy of the coat she wore beneath.

Pointing to the spot, I asked, "How did that happen?"

She flung the cloak over her shoulders to hide the evidence that her outing had not been as smooth as she wanted me to believe.

"It's nothing. Caught it on a fence is all."

"And you couldn't stop to unhook it? You were running from something, weren't you?"

"I said it's nothing." She crossed her forearms on the surface of the table, a rubescent glow at last reaching her cheeks.

My face, in turn, lost its color. I'd been right to worry-she might have gotten away from whatever danger had pursued her, but that was probably nothing more than a fortunate fluke.

"You got lucky," I sputtered, deciding not to pursue the issue further. She was back safe and sound. Sensing she was eager to talk about the day, I asked, "How was the old homestead?"

"Still there. It's just as I remember it, this little place on the northeast side, crammed up with the neighbors' houses. It sits on a slope, so the whole house seems to lean a little. It drove my father insane because he couldn't fix it, no matter how good a carpenter he was."

Shadows crossed her face, and she paused in her tale.

"What is it, Shea?" I prompted, reaching for her hand. "What's bothering you?"

"Everything's exactly like it was; only it isn't, because another family has moved in." Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. "I don't know what I expected, honestly. It was stupid of me to think the government wouldn't take our house in partial settlement on my father's debt. I can't believe I let it get to me, but seeing another mother and father with their children was crushing." She paused and recaptured the stray hairs that had escaped her ponytail. "The house isn't ours anymore."

I'd been trying to make her feel bad since she'd joined me, but now it was clear she'd been feeling awful already. Remorse filled my stomach, mixing horribly with my food, and I pushed my plate aside.

"Humans don't know this the way my people do, but trees and just about everything in the natural world have spirits and feelings and memories. There may be new people living in your house, but the wood of the walls and floors remembers you and your family. You'll always belong there."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Believe it? I used to listen to Nature speaking. I know it's true."

Shea smiled a little at this thought. I didn't know for certain that deadwood, which the humans used to construct their buildings, had the same capacity for memory as did living trees, but she needed to believe it right now.

Gratefulness flickered in Shea's eyes, and her mood appeared to lighten. But the moment was short-lived.

"There's more I need to tell you, Anya." She fidgeted, ultimately folding her hands on the tabletop in front of her. "It's been bothering me for a while now, and I think today just made it worse. Should I have left my family? Maybe it was selfish of me. My mother's probably been forced to do most of the cooking, cleaning, and laundry since I left. Maggie and Marissa aren't really old enough to help much with those things. And I doubt anyone's been reading to my sisters and tucking them into bed like I did. I never talked to my sisters about helping around the house before I left. Never helped them to see what needed doing. I never even explained to Maggie and Marissa where I was going or why I was abandoning them."

Her use of the word abandoned rang in my head. I'd abandoned Davic, my father, Ubiqua, Ione, everyone when I'd taken off. Davic was the only one who'd gotten a goodbye.

"You have the right to live your own life, Shea," I soothed, able to believe it for her but not for me. Not when my loved ones were expecting me to return and I never would. "You forget there was a time before you were old enough to help around the house, a time when your mother and father managed without you. And Maggie and Marissa are of more help than you want to admit right now. I'm sure everything's fine with your family. In Chrior, we have a saying, wisdom handed down by the Old Fae-'the moon rises as the sun sets, so there is always light in the world.' It means there's always hope. That there's something good in everything that happens."

"I wish I could live in Chrior," Shea said, swiping at a few tears that had fallen on her cheeks. "It sounds like people are happier there."

My throat burned, for that was a trip neither of us would be able to make. And I'd had much the same thought the day I'd returned to the Faerie Realm for the winter solstice-Fae were more content and at peace than humans because they coexisted with Nature instead of dominating it. The Realm across the Bloody Road was hallowed, a place where time felt slower, kinder; a place that provided a retreat, a refuge from the outside world. The people in the Warckum Territory believed in a promised land after death, but we didn't have to because we already had our sanctuary. The threads of human religion, similar in all its forms, had never appealed to me before this moment. Now I understood that on this side of the Road, if death didn't offer paradise, there was no paradise to be had.

"Let's move on tomorrow," I proposed, needing to divert my thoughts. "I've had enough of this city."

"That's something we can agree on."

Shea shoveled forkfuls of food into her mouth, and I did the same, hardly tasting my meal. Unsure of the distance to Sheness, I decided we would have to get an early start. Though I didn't say it, the loss of another day, while partly my fault, was eating at me. We needed to make up time.

"Anya," Shea said, recapturing my attention. "I've been thinking. Some of the Fae here in the Home could cross the Road and reenter your homeland. You could use one of them to send a message-"

"No," I interrupted. Shea's eyebrows lifted, telling me I had responded too quickly and too strongly, and I tried to soften my reaction. "All that the Queen and my people want is for someone to find Zabriel, and I'm still capable of doing that. Sending a message would only complicate things."

"For them or for you?"

"For Queen Ubiqua, who may already be ill." I punctuated my words, hoping to discourage further questions. I didn't want to go down this road; I didn't want to hear my own justifications regarding my decision, because I knew they were weak. "And for my father, my friends."

"Aaaand?" Shea twirled a hand in the air, drawing the word out, more perceptive than I had hoped she would be. "No more secrets, remember?"

I sighed. "There's a young man, Davic, who would come after me if he knew."

"And is he just any young man?"

"No." My cheeks were in full bloom, not because I was confessing a relationship but because I was scared of how much that relationship might be influencing the issue. "We're promised to each other. But he's unfamiliar with the human world, and his first Crossing shouldn't be like this. It shouldn't be because of a tragedy, or because he thinks he should be with me, protecting me, grieving with me. He wouldn't see any of the good that's out here, and it's important that he does."

"He doesn't like humans?"

"Davic likes everyone." I chuckled. "But he's happy in Chrior. If he could choose, I think Crossings would be a thing of the past, and humans and Fae would stay on their respective sides of the Bloody Road. We'd coexist by pretending the other race is extinct. It would be the simplest solution, really, except that it's not a solution at all-it doesn't take into account long-term politics. The humans are constantly expanding their population and their land occupation, and we can't ignore how that may affect our way of life. But that's Davic-he lives in the moment, to be happy, to make other people happy. The problem is that the future comes at the same pace whether you prepare for it or not. That's why I want him to learn to love what's out here."

"Is he supposed to be King or something? Since you're the heir?"

I'd forgotten that Fi had let that information slip in Shea's presence, but it wasn't something I wanted to dwell on. "Not a king. He would have been a prince." I automatically corrected the sentence in my mind: Davic would have been a perfect prince.

I looked away from her, and she quickly moved on to something else, perhaps sorry she'd pursued this line of inquiry.

"Fi told me about a young, handsome Constabulary who stopped by to see you," she put forth, a mischievous smile curling her lips. "Are you sure he's not the reason you'd rather Davic stay at home?"

"Certainly not!" Strangely, however, while the suggestion of another man in my life could have been upsetting, it instead offered a welcome sense of normalcy. Being teased by a friend over the tentative friendship I'd developed with a man who'd been good to me felt like a luxury, and I was relieved to have a lighter topic to dwell upon.

"No matter what Fi told you, Shea, Tom was simply nice enough to offer me a ride to the hospital for my follow-up appointment with Dr. Nye. There was nothing more to it."

"And what did you say?"

"I told him you could take care of my wounds." I leaned forward with a smirk. "Your encounter with that boy in Strong proves how much you like to play doctor."

Despite my jab, she wasn't through needling me.

"But did you go with him?"

"Yes, I mean, it did seem like a good idea."

"And does Tom know you only used him as an escort?" Shea was so giddy that her body language almost suggested inebriation-she was leaning precariously sideways onto the table, grinning at me with twinkling eyes, her face radiant.

"Officer Matlock arranged a carriage, and that is all," I insisted, standing and picking up my mug to obtain a refill. "Although he did say a thing or two about irresponsibility, a message perhaps better directed at someone else."

Shea's mouth fell open, and I wiggled my eyebrows at her before heading on my way to the buffet line.

"Exactly what does that mean?" she called after me.

I flipped my auburn hair over my shoulder, enjoying her consternation.

By the time I returned to our table, Shea had recovered and was picking at her food. After a few minutes, I realized she was softly singing. I tuned in my ears and heard, "Anya and Davic, will their love be true? Will they have children, maybe one or two...."

I decided it was best to ignore her.