"Your family who made their living by preying on Fae," Shea sneered. "They're in prison where they belong. They're not victims-they did that to themselves."

"If you're about to tell me you wouldn't forgive the people you love for just about anything, don't bother. You'd forgive them genocide, and you know it, so take yourself off that pedestal, seonnha. Or at least get rid of that pendant hanging around your neck."

"What are you talking about?" Shea demanded, her fist closing around the looking-glass pendant that had become a point of curiosity during our journey.

"Hastings and everyone I ever saw who's involved in this thing wore a necklace just like it. So don't be so quick to assume the people you love are innocent."

Shea got to her feet, looking as though she might hurl Spex out the balcony door. Ironically, her attitude affirmed his assertion that she might support her family no matter the cost.

"My father isn't part of this," she snarled.

Spex was not willing to surrender and seemed pleased to have exposed a nerve. "Maybe he isn't right now, but I reckon he was at one time."

Before Shea could escalate their argument, footsteps creaked in the stairwell, and we all turned to see who was about to join us. I tensed, my eyes landing on Zabriel, whose regal wings vanished beneath his shroud. Apparently not everyone here was privy to the fact he was Fae.

Her jowls jiggling, Aunt Roxy puffed straight into our room to deposit a large tray of deliciously unhealthy-looking snacks on the writing desk near Zabriel. She also slapped down a jug, flapping one hand at the mugs she'd included on the tray.

"Don't you ever make sure this boy eats, Captain?" our hostess groused, referring to my grinning cousin, her tartness insufficient to conceal her well-meaning heart. "You're thin," she went on, a finger dangerously close to Zabriel's face. "And there's no excuse for that when you're at port. Now quit your gawking at me, all of you, or get the hell out of my house."

"Thanks, Rox," Fane said with a chuckle, moving toward the desk. "You know I love you."

"I know you owe me," she grunted, heading out the door.

By this time, Shea had retaken her seat, careful not to face Spex, her countenance glum. I left her alone since I couldn't comfort her with promises of Thatcher's innocence. What did I really know about the man? If asked, all I could say was I thought he'd recognized my royal ring, and was aware of the damaging effects of sky iron on Fae magic. That was too much to dismiss Spex's assertions, yet not enough to prove them. Besides, I doubted Thatcher's past had any bearing on our present circumstances. It was best to let Shea grapple with the flood of questions that were no doubt running through her mind, for she was the best-qualified person to answer them.

I crossed to the desk and picked through Roxy's food offerings, taking bread and meat and a few olives. Fane, on the other hand, seemed more interested in the drink.

"Hey, Fane, toss one," Zabriel called.

I turned to see what was going on, and an olive zipped by my head, aimed at my cousin. He caught it in his mouth, pounding the air with one fist in celebration, and I laughed. Despite the heavy issues we were confronting, it felt good to be around him after such a long period of time.

"Now I understand why you're the terror of the seas," Shea snidely remarked, gulping down her second mugful. "I knew it had to be something to do with your mouth."

Fane whooped, enjoying Shea's feistiness. Rising to the challenge, Zabriel grabbed an olive and threw it into the air, then drew a pistol and shot it to bits, causing the rest of us to press our hands over our ears.

"Thought you could use more than one reason. I'm a damn good shot."

"Don't be blasting holes in my ceiling!" Aunt Roxy yelled from below as my cousin the pirate holstered his weapon. "Or you'll be fixing the roof rather than sailing the sea."

Everyone except Illumina laughed, even Spex. I couldn't decide if my younger cousin had lost her sense of humor, or if she just didn't want to partake in anything enjoyable having to do with humans. The latter was more in keeping with her rhetoric.

"What are you planning, Zabriel?" I asked, bringing the conversation back to the important issues. "What exactly is this business you have to finish before you come home?"

"As you're smart enough to deduce, I think whoever is behind the Faerie abductions and mutilations is working out of Evernook Island. Given the number of children who have gone missing from the port over the last few months, Sepulchres are involved-there's really no other workable explanation. And law enforcement hasn't made any progress with their investigation. Humans and Fae alike are in danger as long as that island's secrets stay hidden.

"But thanks to the reconnaissance done by the captain and his men, we know Evernook is expecting an important shipment within the next few days. Fane's going to intercept that shipment, which might shed some light on things. Meanwhile, I'll infiltrate the island and find out what's going on there, hopefully put a wrench in whatever plans are in place, and then reevaluate. If the timing makes sense, that's when I'll go back to Chrior."

"You're crazy if you think I'm going to let you charge into the center of enemy operations and get yourself killed. I just found you!"

Zabriel and I shared a long look while everyone else stilled, then he picked at a tooth with his thumbnail.

"No problem. Come with me."

His words weren't defiant or meant as a challenge. It was the obvious solution. And so I nodded.

Shea sprang to her feet, and what was left of her food tumbled to the floor, her mug along with it.

"What? Anya, don't be stupid! Zabriel's a pirate, but you're not. You wouldn't be of any use on Evernook. You can't fly, or move silently, or scale mountains. You're basically human, only you don't even carry a gun. I wouldn't stand a chance against a bunch of military men, and you wouldn't, either."

I stared at her, feeling my confidence tearing apart. While I normally would have been insulted by her assertions, she didn't settle on any one point long enough for me to digest it, much less react to it. I'd never seen her like this-she could be a bit tactless, but she tended to keep a cool head. A quick glance around the room told me Shea's outburst had taken everyone by surprise. They were all staring at her in silence, except for Spex. His shoulders were shaking in controlled laugher. Judging from his expression, this was the best party he'd been to in a long time.

Through scolding me, my best friend next turned her fury on Zabriel, moving to stand toe-to-toe with him, despite the crook this put in her neck.

"And you!" Shea jabbed at his chest with her forefinger. "You're not talking about taking her for a stroll or out to dinner. Are you a pirate or an idiot? If you're any good at what you do, Mr. William Wolfram Pyrite, you don't need her. And you damn sure shouldn't put her in danger for no good reason."

She stopped to inhale, and I laid my hand on her arm, turning her toward me. Zabriel took the opportunity to step away, eyebrows and hands high, expression a mixture of amusement and trepidation. He didn't know whether to laugh or run.

"I'm sorry, Shea. Calm down," I said, trying to defuse her anger. "You're right. We need to think things through very carefully. But try to understand. I've struggled long and hard to end up here with Zabriel. And the people who are being hurt by the Fae hunters are my people. It's also my responsibility to help them."

"There's more than one way to help," she sullenly answered.

"True, but you and I have proven more than capable of taking care of ourselves. Remember the Sepulchres we fought off in the Fere? And the guard at the jailhouse we knocked out to escape from Luka? And our trip through the river caverns under Tairmor?"

"Hold on a minute," Fane interjected, scratching his head. "You two were in Luka's custody and took out a prison guard to escape? I'd like to hear about that!"

"So would I," Zabriel concurred. "I never thought to ask you about your trip across the Territory. Sounds like I should have."

"Damn right you should have," Shea retorted, eyes only slightly less wild, then she drew her gun. "Still want to shoot olives?"

"Maybe another time." Despite how dangerous this situation had become, his voice was calm, his manner relaxed. He was trying his best to mollify her. "But I have a better idea. Since you clearly can protect yourself, why don't you come with Anya to Evernook? I think that would solve the little problem we're having here."

He looked to me for confirmation, which I was only too happy to supply.

"Sure, Shea, come with us."

She smiled and handed her gun to Zabriel. Then she fell down, spread-eagled on one of the beds.

"She's been drinking, you know," Spex volunteered. "Seems partial to whatever's in that jug."

I approached my friend and caught a strong whiff of alcohol. "I think she's drunk."

Zabriel laughed. "That explains a lot."

"Yes, it does." Fane joined in. "I wondered what had become of the rum!"

The men chuckled, which I found a bit irritating, while Illumina looked disgusted. But then, she generally found human behavior objectionable. I ignored their reactions, however, not about to start another fight. I doubted Shea knew the effect the drink would have. I rolled her onto her side lest she vomit and choke, then threw a blanket over her. There wasn't anything to be done but let her sleep it off.

When everyone was talked out for the night, I discovered that Captain Fane had sent someone to fetch our belongings from the lodging house. Apparently we would be staying at Aunt Roxy's from now on. Illumina was staying, too, since she'd been carrying her pack at the time Fane had swept us away, and she fell asleep with a sketchbook in her hands, charcoal smeared on her fingers and face. There were plenty of beds to be had without the need to disturb Shea. I chose one near her in case she needed help in the night, then attempted to get some rest, dozing intermittently at best.

At some point, I noticed a cool breeze and sat up to find the balcony door ajar and faint light slinking in from outside. Fane was snoring, sprawled across his bed; Illumina was curled into a tiny ball near her headboard like a cocooned creature. Even Spex was lost to the world, curled up on the floor with a measly blanket, still shackled to the bedpost. He must have been accustomed to making do in stark environments because he didn't stir as I tiptoed past.

Zabriel was outside, seated with his legs through the bars of the balcony railing and surveying the street below. It was surprisingly quiet except for the occasional animal's yelp or beggar's scuffle. I went to join him, moving aside the gas lamp he had brought so that I could scoot close and dangle my feet over the edge, too. I leaned my head against his shoulder, not caring what differences and hurts hung between us. I'd spent a lot of time missing him these past two years.

"Thanks for agreeing to come back to Chrior," I murmured, not sure if the words would be welcome. He rolled his thumb across something he held before him, over the street. When the object caught the light, I recognized it as Evangeline's locket. He let my expression of gratitude hang unanswered in the air.

"How was she when you left? The Queen, I mean," he finally asked, trailing a finger down one of the rusty metal posts.

My breath seeped out of me, slow and reluctant as an apology. After so much time and conflict, it hadn't dawned on me that he would, of course, still care. Ubiqua was his mother. He could think he hated her, and choose to leave her, but even those sentiments involved the heart. Indifference was the thing he would never be able to feel toward her. How many memories had risen to the surface for him since Illumina and I had arrived?

"She was fine. That was almost three months ago, though, during the winter solstice. She didn't know how quickly to expect death. All she seemed certain of was that she's going to die."

"And you believe it?"

I readjusted my position, wanting to look him in the eye, but he refused. Instead, he leaned his forehead against the railing, leaving me with no way to decipher the emotions that lurked behind the question.

"Yes, I do." I would have taken his hand, but he was examining the locket in earnest. "But, Zabriel, listen. This business with Evernook Island-it's important, too. The people of Chrior and Warckum need to know what's happening, and you're in the best position of anyone to find the answers. I think Ubiqua would want you to investigate."

"I'm not doing it for her approval." Zabriel raised his head to meet my gaze. "Anya, I know what kind of ruler you and my mother think Illumina would be, but she's been spending a lot of time in human company. I think there's hope for her, in spite of what happened earlier. She's only fourteen, after all, and nobody's ever really given her a chance."

I gave a dry, quiet laugh. "What you're really saying is that you won't rule. Not under any circumstances."

He paused, not wanting to admit it, not wanting to disappoint me. "The Fae wouldn't follow me, anyway."

"Yes, they would," I fervently contradicted. "Don't you remember any of the good Fae? What about Ione and Davic and all your mother's supporters? The people who were your friends? They're the ones who are waiting to greet you back home. Is that so bad?"

"No. But my mother pictured me as the ultimate liaison between humans and Fae, and at the moment, the humans consider me a criminal. That is bad, and it does prevent me from ruling like she envisioned. I won't tell you that I find this state of affairs upsetting, but whether or not it's convenient for me doesn't change that it's true."

"But in the Territory, you're William Wolfram Pyrite. Don the garments and demeanor of a prince, and I doubt they'd ever make the connection. Besides, from what I hear, the average citizen idolizes you. If you want to walk away from the Laura a second time, then do it, but don't make excuses."

Zabriel pulled his hand back through the rail and shoved the locket into his pocket, and I thought he was going to go inside, tired of gnawing on this subject. But he turned and looked me over the way a scientist approaches a specimen-curious, a little apprehensive, but approving, perhaps even fascinated.

"It really is too bad about your wings, Anya. I have no doubt that out of the three of us cousins, you're the best choice for ruler."

"And I'm the only one who unequivocally can't rule. But perhaps you don't understand the extent of the Queen's objections to Illumina. Before I left Chrior, my father hinted that Ubiqua might have sent Illumina out here to die."

I made the grisly statement as fast and unfeelingly as I could, not wanting to think about it and not quite ready to believe it. Zabriel didn't have such problems.

"It wouldn't surprise me. The Queen has always been willing to make hard decisions without regret."

"She wouldn't," I responded automatically, but my exclamation was rhetorical and Zabriel knew it. Was his cynicism designed to make me see things as he did? Why else would he feel the need to sow seeds of doubt? His relationship with Ubiqua had always been different from mine, but our opinions were more disparate now than ever. Being apart from her had permitted him to cultivate his resentment and ignore the good. She was one of the most celebrated rulers in Chrior's history. More than that, her campaign for peace and integration was in line with his personal values. Mother and son weren't opposite people, whatever he wanted to believe.

Aunt Roxy's cat waddled onto the balcony and jumped to the railing, pacing above our heads in the discomfited silence that had fallen.

"When did Illumina get to Sheness?" I asked, redirecting the conversation to the subject with which we had started. "I knew she had a good lead on me but you talk like she's been under surveillance for a while."

"I first heard she was asking after me almost three weeks ago." Zabriel soaked up this simpler topic with pleasure. "I'm not going back on what I said about her having potential, but she is a strange one, I'll grant you that."

"Why? What's she been up to?"

"For the most part, she's been hanging around The Paladin. If she had any intelligence on me, she was probably just following bread crumbs, but...I don't know." He laughed with fleeting humor. "Let's just say she's a bit too comfortable there."

"Do you know how she got here?" I threw the question out as a matter of curiosity, since I was sure she hadn't come through Oaray. "I don't think she took the same route I did."

"I know she has travel papers like you and me. In this part of the Territory, you can't go far without having your identity checked by an officer of the law. Or at least without being forced to pay for an officer's silence."

"She couldn't have papers."

"Why's that?"

"Because Spex was working as a documents supplier in Oaray, and he told me he hadn't seen her. He took over for Deangelo a while ago, though Nature only knows what happened to the old man to clear the post."

"Maybe Spex lied."

"I don't think so. He told me he spotted Evangeline."

Zabriel cocked an eyebrow. "Well, she made it somehow. I suppose Enerris could have gotten her papers when he was alive."

"Maybe," I allowed, not having entertained that possibility before. "She didn't say anything about it, though, not to anyone. My father and the Queen are under the impression this is her original Crossing."

I found it difficult to conceive that Illumina's father would have taken her beyond our homeland's borders, which were protected to the west and south by the Bloody Road and to the north and east by impassible mountains. But in retrospect, anything was possible when it came to Enerris. He had, after all, tried to poison his own nephew with the Queen seated not fifteen paces away. If he had ushered his daughter on a secret and unofficial Crossing, what could have been his purpose? He'd been a human-hater, reviling the Warckum Territory. He'd done everything in his power to keep Illumina's mind closed and her hatred alive. Providing her with experience in the human world ran counter to that goal. It didn't make sense to me.

"Do you feel bad for her?" I asked, the question springing from my own memories of her father, one of the few adults I had feared as a child.

"Because her father was a madman?"

"That, and...because she carves herself up. I can't help worrying about her."

"You don't worry about her," Zabriel corrected, bringing one leg up beside him so he could face me fully, dark eyes binding me in place. "You worry about what she could do. There's a difference. When I ran away, I had to come to terms with a lot of things...including more than a few unpleasant truths about myself. My guess about you is that if Illumina died, you would be more relieved than sad."

I sat unmoving, letting his assertion sink in. It was a revolting notion and, I realized, more than likely true. Being around Illumina made me nervous. I couldn't recall ever really enjoying her company. My hopes that she'd stop scarifying herself and that she wouldn't hurt anyone else didn't equal love. They equaled distrust and pity. The worst part was that she'd told me time and again, "You're good to me, Anya. I know you care, Anya," which had to mean I treated her better than most people did. And yet I wouldn't be sad at her loss if she died-only sad that she hadn't had a better life.

"That doesn't make you a bad person," Zabriel resumed. "And you can't help the way you feel, so you may as well be honest about it. My mother never was. She always acted like Illumina was normal and ignored all the things Enerris did to her. It begs the question, which is more harmful to a little girl, causing her pain or failing to stop it?"

"Enerris hurt her, then." It was a statement because I couldn't justify making it a question. The words scarred into her back that she couldn't have written herself-belief, strength, power, perseverance-were proof enough. But there were also the messages marring her skin that read more like indoctrination than philosophy, messages like keep silent your screams and never look back.

A breeze, salty even this deep into the metropolis, tousled my cousin's silver-blond hair as he nodded.

"Illumina wasn't born the way she is. She's a victim, and not just of her father. My mother should have protected her, only she chose to look the other way."

"Are you saying Illumina blames the Queen?"

"I'm saying I blame the Queen. I don't think Illumina even knows the extent to which she's been wronged. I mean, no one's ever told her she didn't deserve it."

"Somebody must have-"

"Not if that's what everybody's been assuming. Think about it. We can all pass the problem on to someone else, and so on, and so on, until in the end no one does anything."

I looked at my hands, bleak and ghostly against the dark rail tinged with rust, feeling my gut was similarly tinged with shame.