Sylvie said, "I can't believe we're here. This is the most amazing-"

"Careful, Sylvie Whitethorn. This is a place of Unseelie things." Moth glanced meaningfully at Sionnach.

Sylvie was drawn toward an alcove of antique weapons, the display piece on the glass counter a small crossbow in the shape of a crow with a woman's head. Seven glinting darts crafted into feathery metal shapes were set beside the crossbow. The dealer, dark haired and sleek in black jeans, smiled at Sylvie, his eyes glinting. His arms and half his bare chest were shadowed with raven tattoos. "Would you like that, little one?"

"No. She wouldn't." Moth gently drew Sylvie back.

"She would." The dealer tilted his head, the beads and feathers moving in his hair. "Wouldn't you? Here. Take it. From one, to another." He slid the crossbow and its bolts into a leather case and held it out to Sylvie.

"We don't accept gifts." Moth set one hand on the case.

"She is a croi baintreach." The dealer smiled, and his eyes flickered like a bird's. "She'll find her way to violence eventually. They all do."

"I believe the lady said no." Sionnach leaned forward and smiled, his Christie-ness accompanied by a flare of rakish sex appeal. "But I'll take it. Thanks."

As they walked away, Sylvie whispered, "What's crow . . . what he said?"

"Croi baintreach. Heart widow." Sionnach grinned. "A warrior."

"But I'm not."

"If you say so."

AS THEY WOVE THROUGH GOBLIN MARKET, Moth leaned close to Finn. "Do you remember when we were on that train? When we first arrived?"

"You were a moth."

"I still recall, even in that form-isn't that the white-haired Fata Jack threatened?"

Moving through the flickering shadows and light of Goblin Market was a young man in a pale coat, white hair spilling from beneath a bowler hat of ivory velvet.

"Yes." She tensed. "That's him."

Sionnach was purchasing what looked like empanadas from a dark-skinnned Fata with a pink butterfly design painted around her eyes. The fox knights had already bought small cakes, fried chicken, and containers of soup-human food was apparently an addiction here, like crack or meth in the true world.

Finn walked to the dealer with whom the white-haired Fata from the train had been speaking-a purveyor of jewel-colored toadstools in baskets and bottles-and asked, "Who was that white-haired man?"

The slinky dealer replied, "Narcissus Mockingbird. Don't be curious about him, pretty thing."

Finn turned away, recognizing that name-Mockingbird. Dread clutched her.

Moth moved to her side. "Where is Sylvie?"

Finn frantically scanned the crowds of sleek and bizarre Fatas in their punk-retro clothing. Sionnach and his two fox knights had also disappeared. "Where did they go?"

Four figures in fur coats broke from the crowds and Moth whispered, "Wolves."

"Finn!" Sylvie was pushing toward them, her face pale.

Finn grabbed her hand and, following Moth, they raced toward a set of glass doors leading to a hall displaying Egyptian statues and sarcophagi. They fled through it, up a flight of stairs. As they turned into a narrow gallery with shuttered windows on one side and gargoyle statues holding glowing lanterns, something howled in the shadows at the other end.

Two more figures in fur coats appeared, cutting off their only escape route.

Moth shoved one of the windows open. "Climb." He slid over the sill, onto the sloping roof, and Finn and Sylvie clambered after. Far below was a valley of urban decay sprinkled with lights. From somewhere in the distance came the sound of a violin. Moving across the rooftop as if he were a cat, Moth advised, "Don't look down."

Finn saw broken roofs and the steep canyons between them. The museum seemed to be on a mountain of buildings like one of those tiered cities in Europe.

"Oh hell no." Sylvie balked. Her eyes were ringed with shadow.

The glass window crashed open behind her, and a young man in a coat of black fur began to climb out. Sylvie whirled and slammed the shutters on the Fata several times, before kicking the dazed wolf back and pushing the shutters closed. She turned.

Finn and Moth were staring at her. Moth murmured, "Maybe we should have let her have that crossbow."

"Hurry!" Sylvie slid toward them.

Moth led them across the roof. The music from the ruined city below grew louder, a violin solo, eerily isolated.

When Finn recognized the song, she stumbled and steadied herself against a gargoyle.

It was "November Rain," the first song she'd heard after her sister's funeral. Reiko had once taunted her with it. As wind whipped Finn's hair into her face, the night seemed to lighten as clouds tumbled across the stars. Rain began to fall. Moth and Sylvie shouted her name.

"Finn, what are you doing?" Moth strode back to her. "We need to get off this roof."

He led her back to Sylvie, who looked fierce, her dark hair sleeked to her head.

"Finn," she said in a too-calm voice. "How come I don't feel the cold and I can see in the dark? And I'm strong-"

"It's the elixir, Sylvie."

"Careful, here." Moth spoke as if they were soldiers. He stepped over a chasm between two peaked roofs. Sylvie leaped first, neat as a leopard. Finn drew a breath, jumped- -her boot heel slid on the stone.

Moth's grip almost broke bones as he caught her hand and dragged her up. She slammed against him, felt the thrumming of his heart, and noticed the bits of gold in his leaf-green eyes as his face came close to hers.

"Thanks." She quickly drew her hands from his. He nodded and studied her for a moment before turning away.

"Hey," Sylvie said, her breath coming in hiccups. "I think I found the way down."

They clambered after her, onto a ledge over the museum entrance. Moth jumped first and reached up to help each of them down onto the pavement. Their hoods up, they hurried into the hall where they'd left Sionnach Ri's motorcycles.

A few moments later, a grim Sionnach strode toward them, tucking something that looked like a Valentine's Day heart made from black obsidian into his hoodie. "Where have you been? Lot's wolves are here."

"We know," Finn said with a bit of an attitude. "We've been on the roof to get away from them."

"Your friends left us," Moth told Sionnach. "Do you know anyone named Narcissus?"

Sionnach shot him a wary look. "Should I?"

When Luce and Merriweather strode into the hall, Sionnach yelled at them in Irish. They yelled back. Merriweather stomped her foot.

A pack of Fatas in jewelry and fur coats broke from the Goblin Market crowds and loped toward them.

"Time to leave." Sionnach spun around and swung onto his motorcycle.

"I'll ride with you this time." Sylvie climbed up behind him and put on her helmet.

Wondering if Sylvie was losing her mind, Finn straddled the bike behind Merriweather.

Sylvie reached out and clasped her hand once, before Sionnach and his knights circled their bikes and shot out the doors.

THEY STOPPED IN A GRASSY GLADE scattered with night-blooming flowers, to eat the human food the fox knights had bought. Finn watched Sylvie and Moth talk with the haughty Merriweather and sly Luce. She felt more alert after the earthly feast and three cans of root beer. Her mind was working now . . .

"Sionnach . . . can I talk to you for a sec?" Finn stood up and walked toward a knot of elder trees. Sionnach ambled after her and leaned against one of the trees, watching her as she gazed into the darkness of the forest and gathered her courage. She said, "You're not taking us to Jack, are you?"

He cocked his head to one side when she looked at him. His eyes didn't glint. He didn't smile. He replied, "No."

"And you haven't seen Jack . . ." She felt grief crest. "Or Christie."

"No. Look, that part was true, me knowing if my original was dead-I'd know. And Jack was last seen, with Christopher Hart, heading for the Dragonfly witch."

"Where?" She turned on him. "Where are you taking us?"

"The Mockingbirds."

She nodded, because she'd suspected that. Her heart crashed into her boots. "You were going to give us to the Mockingbirds at Goblin Market, until the wolves interfered."

"They don't want to hurt you, the Mockingbirds. They are Seth Lot's enemies. They want to help you kill him. You know that saying-the enemy of my enemy is my friend."

"So they murdered the Blue Lady and hired you to trick me?" Finn glanced back at the others, who were still speaking. When Moth looked up and narrowed his eyes, Finn forced a smile, as if she and Sionnach were talking about-not this. "Okay. Take me. Let Sylvie and Moth go."

"Go where? They are safer with you, Finn Sullivan."

"Please-"

"No." He refused gently. "And if you tell them where we are going, I will make certain Moth is a moth and Sylvie is unconscious."

"And when we get there? I've betrayed them."

"The Mockingbirds need Jack. They are searching for Jack. They're superstitious and believe the two who ended Reiko will end Lot-that would be you and Jack."

Her hands curled into fists at her sides as she whispered, "What's wrong with the Mockingbirds? Because I know they're not right. Moth called them ghouls."

"More like blood drinkers." Sionnach continued to speak with that gentle ruthlessness. "Reiko Fata and Amaranthus Mockingbird were once like sisters. As impossible as that might seem, some of the older ones were once young. But Amaranthus blames the Wolf, not you, for Reiko's downfall."

Finn turned her back on him and trudged toward her friends.

Moth frowned as she settled beside him. He handed her a cupcake and leaned close to ask, "What's wrong?"

Finn met Sylvie's concerned gaze and said with a calm that felt more like shock, "Plans have changed. We need to go to the Mockingbirds."

Moth reached for one of his daggers, but Finn stopped him. "No. The Mockingbirds might help us kill Lot."

"Is that what he said?" Moth indicated Sionnach.

Sionnach sauntered toward them. "Do you know why mortals aren't welcome here, Alexander? Because, when you're here, you influence things. You make us feel things. You make us bleed. It was a fair bargain offered for the queen killer and her companions. Especially since you were one of those companions."

Moth slid to his feet and Luce and Merriweather rose, spiky with weapons. Finn and Sylvie jumped up.

"Moth," Finn said. "The Mockingbirds want to kill Lot . . . and it fits with what goes on here-queens and kings always at each other. And they might find Jack. This is our best chance."

"I told you they are ghouls. They're crazy." Moth didn't take his attention from Sionnach.

"At least they're not backstabbing traitors," Sylvie snarled, as she glared at Sionnach.

"Moth. Sylvie." Finn spoke hopelessly. "We don't have a choice."

FINN, HOLDING ON TO MERRIWEATHER as the motorcycle sped down another road, felt as if her blood were freezing. She'd begun to worry about her lack of exhaustion and fear. It wasn't normal to feel zippy all the time, and she'd run out of espresso. She should be falling over by now, or in hysterics-she wasn't; she was calm and focused.

The bikes suddenly curved off the road and onto a forested ridge overlooking a deep ravine tangled with kudzu and obscured in mist. On the other side was a baroque building of pale stone surrounded by yews, their branches scarring the bleached walls as dusk glinted bloodily from the windows. It was a resort from turn-of-the-century Prague, with towers and balconies and fancy statues.

As everyone swung off the bikes, Sionnach stabbed Moth in the arm with a silver pin.

Moth's entire shape blazed into light . . . clothes, backpack, weapons, all shrinking into a shining orb that cascaded into a large luna moth with silver skull markings. As the red-haired Merriweather caught the moth in a wicker cage, Sylvie whirled on Sionnach. "You snake!"

"Fox, actually. The snake was the one you burned." Sionnach turned a harrowed gaze on Finn, who watched the bank of mist creeping toward them from the beautiful hotel. Gently, Sionnach told her, "You can change Moth back. He would have gotten himself killed when they came."

She whispered, "You're not like Christie at all. You're a hollow thing wearing his face."

For an instant, something almost like despair flickered in Sionnach's eyes. Then he took the moth cage and set it at Finn's feet. When he spoke again, the careless mockery had returned. "Say hello to the Mockingbirds for me, Finn Sullivan."

Finn turned from Sionnach as the fox knight strode back to his bike and his hard-eyed companions. As she and Sylvie backed away from the fog crawling up out of the ravine to touch the toes of their boots, Finn said to Sionnach, "Was this all about Moth?"

Sionnach halted without looking back at her. He'd flung up the hood of his jacket. "I grew a heart, for Moth. The Wolf cut it out of me, for kicks. And Moth walked away."

Sionnach got on his bike, and he and his companions spun their motorcycles onto the road, leaving Finn and Sylvie to face whatever came in the mist. Finn whispered, "Sylv, why did you come after me?"

"To give you that sword, to tell you how to kill Lot." Sylvie had picked up the moth cage. With wistful regret, she added, "And I really wanted to see fairyland."

The mist enshrouded them.

"Finn." Sylvie went very still. "Something is com-"

Then darkness took them.

CHAPTER 14.