"My mother would have," I murmured, my voice barely audible. I didn't know if that was true or if I just wanted to believe it.

"Your mother was always doing things that other people never thought to do."

"Did she for you, too?"

He smiled despite himself. He could smirk and grin and make light of a hundred situations, but this smile emerged unrestrained and uncalculated. All Fae had elemental connections, but that was my mother's unique form of magic.

Though I wanted to keep talking, Zabriel was getting to his feet. There were other things I needed to ask him, I realized with a jolt of desperation, things that deserved attention and conversation. Though the question that rolled out of me deserved an introduction, I couldn't lose this opportunity. I didn't know when I would next have him to myself, especially in a divulging mood.

"Zabriel, I saw your wanted poster in Tairmor."

He froze in a crouch, as though he'd almost walked away clean.

"It said you were a murderer. Is that true?"

He glanced out over the street. In a rickety house a few blocks down, a light flared, and somewhere in the distance glass broke and dogs barked, neither sound loud enough to wake a soul under Aunt Roxy's roof.

"Gwyneth told me how a lot of things you never did have been blamed on you," I ventured, heart threatening to leap into my throat. "You can say she was right if you want and I won't ask again."

He swiped at the hair that stuck out over his forehead, then knelt beside me.

"Gwyneth was right, Anya, but not about that. When I left the Faerie Realm, I ended up in Sheness, since that was the farthest I could go from home. After I was here for a while, I found that my skills, so to speak, offered me certain advantages, and so I became a pirate. You wouldn't really have expected me to become a butcher or a blacksmith, now, would you? The tale might be one of pure adventure if this was a child's storybook, but in the real world, the best lies and the worst reputations all start with a grain of truth, something nobody can deny."

He offered me his hand, and I took it because I wouldn't have been able to stand without help. I was gripped by fear, already sure of the answer he would give me. I wished I hadn't asked the question, and whether he was Fae or human, I wanted him to lie.

"It's true, Anya. I killed somebody. And that's the foundation for my reputation, the reason the name Pyrite means what it does."

I closed my eyes, dumbstruck by his unflinching honesty, terrified of what it meant if I could look past murder when it came to him. I was either a hypocrite or I had to open my mind to the possibility that murder was forgivable. Would my mother have been able to do that?

Incarnadine was the one who would have had the answers; she should have ruled Chrior upon Ubiqua's death, preventing the burden from falling too soon upon my generation. While I wouldn't generally admit it, we were still children...however capable we were of horrific deeds.

I walked toward the door, but Zabriel gripped my shoulder. Did he want to explain? I faced him, but instead of elaborating, he wrapped his arms around me, tucking my head under his chin.

"One of these days, I'll tell you what I'd be giving up if I became the Prince of Chrior again. In the meantime, I missed you, too, Anya."

I squeezed him back. Whatever had happened before and whatever would happen after, at least my cousins and I were together tonight, safe in this little house in the heart of Sheness. The rest could be sorted out another day, by people smarter and more experienced than we.

We went inside and I lay down on my mattress, staring up at the ceiling. The moon had shifted enough to suggest Zabriel and I had spent a couple of hours together on the balcony. I sighed, no more tired than I'd been before. Catching a slight movement, I spied Zabriel, little more than a shadow pausing by the stairs, reaching into his coat pocket. He withdrew the chain of Evangeline's necklace, letting it stretch and spin as he brought the pendant into the open once more. His countenance was invisible in the dark, but the token Fi had charged me to give him was eating at him; that couldn't be denied. Eventually, he collected the chain in his palm, clenched his hand into a fist, and lifted off the ground to float down the steps on Faerie wings, silent as any specter.

I landed on the lip of Illumina's alcove amidst the lower middle branches of the Redwood, tucking my wings securely against my back. Though my father had offered her a room in our home in the aftermath of Enerris's banishment, she had refused the invitation. Worried that she might be lonely now that her only living parent was gone, I had adopted the habit of checking on her twice a day.

There was a flurry of noise from inside, and I listened intently to the bumps, clangs, and rustles. At the sound of something being dragged across the floor, I went in without knocking, both concerned and curious.

Illumina was surrounded by several large burlap sacks that overflowed with possessions-clothing, knickknacks, letters and other correspondence, and what looked to be the entire contents of the desk in the corner.

"What's going on?" I dared to ask.

My voice startled my young cousin. Her green eyes glowed wildly between the black moss curtains of her hair, and her hand dropped to the dagger at her hip. A stab of panic went through me, accompanied by an image of her pulling her knife to attack. Then recognition came to her and she straightened, arms spreading, welcoming me to take in the scene.

"I'm removing my father's belongings," she explained.

She was indeed-all of his things, so not a trace of him remained outside of those burlap sacks.

"Why?" I pressed, more than a little unsettled.

As far as Illumina knew, her father would be coming back. Queen Ubiqua had couched her decision to exile him in terms of sending him on an assignment to learn more about life in the Warckum Territory. Granted, after Enerris had tempted Zabriel with Sale at the Queen's birthday, few Fae were dense enough to believe that's all there was to the story, but we kept up the pretense for his twelve-year-old daughter's sake. She didn't need to know the full extent of his punishment. Not yet.

Illumina brushed her hair away from her face. "I appreciate what you and the others are trying to do, Anya. Especially you. I know you want me to be all right. I won't forget that. But I'm not stupid."

"I never thought you were."

I came farther into the room, my gaze never straying from my cousin's visage. Her incredible intelligence shone brighter than the gold of the royal ring on her finger. Her speech alone, so beyond that of her peers, was enough to give it away, without the sparks her ever-active brain sent into her eyes.

"My father isn't coming back," she continued. "The Queen banished him for trying to kill her son, which was the right thing to do, the only thing to do."

"But that doesn't mean you'll never see him again. And it certainly doesn't mean you need to erase the evidence that he existed. He's only been gone three days, for Nature's sake."

Illumina had already considered this perspective and had an answer at the ready.

"What my father did was unforgivable. It was idiotic. If Zabriel had died, did he think Faefolk would admire him? No. They would have wept for Ubiqua if not for the Prince himself. If I kept trinkets that belonged to him, they would just be a reminder of his failures. And as for seeing him again..." Illumina gave a wispy smile as she tied the sacks full of memories closed. "Well, cousin, I know my father better than you do. He won't live among the humans. His dignity won't stand for it."

Though I understood her implication perfectly, I wished I didn't. How could a little girl be so stoical at the loss of her father, a loss she believed to be more permanent than even our aunt knew? How could she contentedly throw away every reminder of the man who had raised her? These questions plagued me, even as I helped her carry the sacks away, effectively leaving Enerris in the past.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE.

A DAMN GOOD TEAM.

When I awoke the next morning, Shea was gone. Filled with foreboding, I tugged on my boots, worried that she'd gone off on her own like she had in Tairmor. She was less likely to be recognized here, but it was unclear whether or not the neighborhood we were in was safe, even in full daylight. It certainly didn't feel inviting. But before my concern could send me crashing down the stairs, she strolled in with Captain Fane, bearing a tray full of breakfast items that had been thrown together by Aunt Roxy.

"I went to the market," she told me, though there was a hint of evasiveness in the way her gaze skirted mine. "I needed a little fresh air." Then more surreptitiously she added, "Next thing I knew, Fane and Roxy were putting together a grocery list for me."

I laughed as quietly as I could at the image of a ruthless pirate making shopping requests, then eyed the captain in question, who hurled an apple at Spex. Some of the questions I'd failed to ask Zabriel during our conversation last night pertained to this man. He definitely dressed the part of a pirate, with pistols at his hips and clothing that was expensive in taste but eccentric in style, by all accounts falling short of an official uniform. If Zabriel was wanted by the law, I had no doubt Fane was, as well. So was he trustworthy? I viewed him the same way I did the neighborhood around Roxy's house-I couldn't say from experience that it wasn't reliable, but my instincts told me to be careful.

With these thoughts playing in my mind, I went to pick through the breakfast offerings before everything had been devoured. Zabriel was back from wherever he'd gone after our talk, and seemed none the worse for wear. Unlike with Shea, I hadn't thought twice about his safety, but then, this was his city. Illumina was huddled on her bed, hoarding food like she had no idea when she'd receive another meal. I was about to grab a plate when an apple rolled by my feet. Frowning, I traced its directionality to Spex, who looked pale and miserable where he leaned against the bedpost to which he was chained. Though I wanted to hate him, the emotion was exhausting, and trying to sustain it in the face of a young man Zabriel's age wasn't easy. I picked up the apple and returned it, settling across from him on the floor with my own meal.

"You like to play fetch?" he asked, taking the apple and rolling it away from me. It bruised against the cupboard and ricocheted out the open balcony door.

"You're just trying to get rid of me."

"Right you are."

I nibbled a piece of cheese while I struggled to decide how best to start a conversation with him. He had the potential to be an ally, despite his family's business. He'd already given us information he shouldn't have. If not for his fear of losing the people he loved, I was sure his instincts would put him on our side.

"You must know," I finally began, "that what I said yesterday is most likely true. Hastings, that bounty hunter, and whoever else has been using you think you've been abducted, which means you're free of them. They can't blame you for not doing what they say, and they can't punish your family on your account."

"You're assuming they operate by traditional rules. Under normal circumstances, that's not a chance I'd take." He lifted one manacled wrist and looped the chain around it, giving it a couple of tugs. "But as long as I am, quite literally, tied up here, it doesn't make much difference what I'd choose to do."

"What are the stakes?"

Spex looked sideways at me with heavily lined hazel eyes. His clothing was dirty, his suspenders torn, his hair matted. But despite his physical appearance, his spirit wasn't broken.

"Why in hell would I tell you that? The last time I talked to you, they executed my father."

"Your father was slated for the plank, anyway," Zabriel said, hopping onto the back of the desk chair, his feet on the seat, and cutting into our conversation. "Now he's one less thing that can be held over you."

At Spex's stormy silence, Zabriel came to sit cross-legged on the floor beside me, his keen eyes narrowed as he evaluated the prisoner.

"I know exactly what the stakes are, my friend," he resumed. "It used to be about spotting Fae in Oaray, but now you believe that if you turn me in, your mother, brother, and sister will be released. Is that right?"

Spex glowered at him. "How could you know that?"

"Leo Dementya was at your father's execution. I don't get information directly from him, but I do cultivate a few sources in my line of work. The heavyweights in the Territory talk, and I make a habit of listening. Word is that more hunters will soon be executed."

Spex shifted onto his knees, cheeks paling even more, if that was possible. "Then you know why you have to let me go."

Zabriel hung his head in a show of silent sympathy, then met Spex's gaze.

"Whoever's behind this business is manipulating you, and it's time you understand how these people work. Your entire family is condemned, and that's not going to change. Governor Ivanova's stance against Fae hunting is solid, and your mother and siblings have been duly convicted and sentenced to death. Your handlers have just been bending the rules, delaying the inevitable in order to string you along. When you stepped out of line, they let your father's sentence be carried out. They're going to do the same thing three more times-use you, get what they want from you, then let the plank claim its victims."

Spex's face flitted through a variety of emotions, and for a moment I thought he might retch. But he clenched his jaw and stubbornly shook his head.

"Someone in the government's involved in this. That means they can get my family out of prison."

Zabriel squeezed his temples in frustration and tried again.

"I'm sorry to break it to you, but delaying an execution is a whole lot easier than overriding someone's sentence. Only the Governor can extend a pardon, and I don't see his hand in any of this. Clearly someone with connections is involved, but everything they're doing is carefully calculated not to draw the Governor's notice. And that includes using Evernook Island as their base of operations. They're eventually going to step out of the way and let justice take its course. They won't have a choice, and they've known it from the beginning."

"Are you saying Spex will be executed, too?" I mumbled, my eyes widening, for this possibility had not occurred to me before.

"Depends on his sentence. By my reckoning, our friend here was never convicted of Fae mutilation. Am I right, Tiny? He's the youngest, and I suspect his only involvement in the family trade was spotting. You don't kill off someone with a rare talent like that."

"So what?" Spex snarled, putting his forehead none too gently to his knees. "Being right about that doesn't make you right about the rest of it."

"Just give it some thought." Zabriel shoved his plate and the food that remained on it toward Spex. "I think your family is damned if you cooperate and damned if you don't, so you might want to consider if there's good reason to keep helping Hastings and Opal. Maybe it's time to get back at them for jerking your chain."

Spex smacked the lip of the plate, overturning it as though to show he wasn't powerless. "Seems to me you're the one jerking my chain at the moment."

"It might seem that way, but I don't gain anything by lying to you."

My cousin stood and offered a hand to me. "Come on, Anya. Let's give Spex some space."

I nodded, letting him pull me to my feet, my thoughts chasing one another like a dog in pursuit of its tail. What would I do were it my family at risk? Cling to feeble hope despite the logic of Zabriel's arguments, and continue to undertake a task I knew was wrong? Or accept the inevitability of my loved ones' fates and hit back? Either way, I'd end up living with tremendous guilt. I shuddered as I crossed the floor to join the others, for one thing was clear: whoever was behind the Fae mutilations, the manipulation of Spex, the abuse of the Sepulchres, and whatever else was part of this scheme, was heartless and utterly self-serving. Evil was loose in the Warckum Territory, and it was up to us-a mistreated and confused fourteen-year-old, a maimed Faerie, the daughter of a fugitive, two pirates, and possibly a Fae-hunter-to stop them.

By the next afternoon, plans were in order for our attack against Evernook-Zabriel and Fane had been organizing the operation long before the rest of us had come into the fold. At their request, the group of us met upstairs to learn the roles we all would play.

"It's straightforward," Zabriel began, inviting us to gather around a map he had spread upon the desk. "Captain Fane and part of his crew will raid the Dementya ship and steal the cargo. The rest of his men will cause a distraction on the island's shore, as though an invasion is under way. That should draw the guards away from the warehouse." He pointed to the sections of the map that were relevant to the different facets of the plan. "In the meantime, Anya, Shea, and I will land on the opposite side of Evernook and sneak into the fortress."

Illumina brushed her hair aside, preparing to interrupt, and Zabriel met her eyes.

"I'd like you to stay here, dear cousin, and keep an eye on our prisoner."

Illumina's mouth opened and closed, and an angry flush colored her cheeks. "You'll take a human with you, but not your own flesh and blood?"

Everyone stilled, her commentary as divisive as ever, but especially unwelcome during a time when we needed to be united. Zabriel was first to recover, and he gave her a caustic look.

"I'm taking Shea because I think she can handle herself in a fight, and because I'd like to keep one member of our family out of harm's way."

"Thank you for your thoughtfulness," Illumina said with a sugary-sweet smile. "But perhaps you ought to consider that I'm the only Faerie here who has an elemental connection. I think that could be of more use to you than another gun."

Not about to be bumped from the mission, Shea threw her hands up in protest.

"Anya and I have been through a lot, and we make a damned good team. I don't think this is a good time to split us up. Tell them, Anya. Who do you think should go with you to the island?"

I grimaced. I would have preferred Shea's company, but Illumina had a point. "She is a Fire Fae. That type of magic could prove useful."

"Well, I don't care. I'm going to that island if I have to swim there."

"Great," Zabriel snapped, punching the surface of the desk. "I'm going to end up handling all the amateurs."

"Two of them are your cousins," Shea shot back, "so the only one you ought to handle is me. And that'll only happen in your dreams."

Zabriel chuckled, caught off guard. He turned away for a moment to rub his hands over his face, and I glanced between the contentious pair, considering for the first time that their bickering might hide an attraction. Composure regained, Zabriel mussed his hair and leaned over the desk, his bowed head hiding his smile. I caught sight of a chain under his collar, but it was silver instead of gold like Evangeline's, and I cocked my head, not having noticed it before. As though obeying my curious gaze, the chain's heavy ornament slipped forward and fell through the open top of his shirt, hanging for a second in the air before he automatically replaced it. It was his royal ring, ruby stud bracketed by golden laurel leaves. He might be hiding it, but he still had it.

"What do you think, Captain?" Zabriel asked, oblivious to the fact that anything had transpired in the past second, though for me, the world had shifted.

"I'd take Shea with me if you Fae want to stick together. We can chain the lad up real tight and leave him in Roxy's care."

"My name is one goddamn syllable," Spex grumbled from behind us. "Can't anyone around here remember it?"

"I'm not above putting you back in the cupboard while we're gone," Zabriel cautioned, and Spex laid his head against the bedpost in surrender.

"Would I be on your ship?" Shea queried, addressing Fane.

"Yes indeed. And there'll be plenty of action."

"I'll go with you, then."