"What"-Moth dragged his hands through his hair-"is an aisling?"

"A human stolen out of time and kept immortal," Jack said. "The oldest Fatas have that power." He pulled his coat back on, winced.

Finn looked at Phouka. "Seth Lot has my sister."

"Your sister?" Phouka seemed startled. "Your dead sister?"

"She isn't dead," Moth told her. "I spoke to her, often, in Lot's house. I don't remember how she came to be there, but she was the only good thing . . . the only good thing . . ."

"So you haven't asked us if Seth Lot's in town." Absalom sounded as if he was merely talking about an eccentric relative. "He is."

Finn gripped the edges of her seat and exchanged a quick look with Jack. He was stone-faced as Phouka rose and said, "I would like to speak to Finn alone, please."

Absalom, still holding the wine bottle, sauntered toward the door. "Come along, gentlemen. We shall retire to the salon and smoke cigars and chat about the stock market and, possibly, our mistresses."

Jack whispered, "Careful," to Finn, before following Absalom from the room. Moth drifted after.

When the door had closed, Phouka settled into the chair opposite Finn and leaned forward. "Let me tell you why what you're planning is a bad idea. That boy Moth is not only unreliable, he's unstable. I don't know who sent him here, but if he was Seth Lot's, he's not to be trusted."

Finn pulled back her coat sleeve to reveal Lily's bracelet of silver charms. "Moth had this. It was my sister's. It even has the octopus charm I broke when I borrowed it." She hesitated. "My sister's boyfriend was named Leander Cyrus. I saw him here in Fair Hollow-and Jack recognized him as being one of Seth Lot's Jacks. All that time he was with my sister, Leander was a Jack."

"Now I'm very unhappy."

Finn continued, "My sister wrote things about a wolf-eyed man in San Francisco."

Phouka watched her, the light reflecting uncannily from her eyes. "So. Lot plotted to get your sister, while Reiko plotted to get you. And what a mistake that was. It killed her."

"It was an accident," Finn said quietly.

"Finn. A sacrifice has to mean something to work. Something of value must be offered. Reiko should have sacrificed Jack, whom she loved, not plotted to end you. You never would have brought her Fatas one hundred years."

"Why did it work? With her and David Ryder?"

"Because David Ryder offered himself when he saw things going south. And Reiko may have lunged for him to retrieve her heart, her power, but I believe she genuinely wanted to rescue him."

"Will you do it when the time comes? Will you offer death a Teind?"

"I will sacrifice something I love if I need to."

Finn wondered what she meant. She told Phouka: "The first day I met Jack, I was just a kid, and my mom had died, and I said something wrong to a girl in red-she tried to drown me that day."

Sympathy seemed to flicker in Phouka's alien gaze as she said, "Reiko. You see why, Finn Sullivan, it's not so good to know us."

"Jack says I need your permission to get my sister out of the Ghost-"

"Not only my permission. Has he told you what the Ghostlands are? A hidden world kept from the eyes of mortals, only seen by those who are blessed, or cursed. The Ghostlands are the Wild West, the realm where our kings and queens battle to learn who's strongest. It's where forgotten places and things end up. It's where Fata changelings are born and human changelings die. It won't drive you mad, but you'll never be the same if you survive. Tonight, you encountered a Grindylow-that's only a fragment of what waits for you in the Ghostlands."

Terror clawed Finn's breath away as she considered what she would really have to do, where she would have to go.

The lights flickered out. For a moment, it became very cold, and Finn was reminded that what sat opposite her was a shadow creature wearing a young woman's form. Then the warmth and the lamplight stabilized as Fata reality returned and Finn said, steadily, "Do you think I'm the same now as I was before Jack? I can do this."

Phouka glanced out the window, at the silhouettes of the revelers in the courtyard. Her voice was calm. "And Jack. Let's discuss the circumstances surrounding Jack's resurrection. None of us know how he survived the divine fire, how he became temporarily mortal-and, yes, I mean temporary, because he's already changing back-and that makes him dangerous to us."

"Changing back?" No, Finn thought, but she had seen him lose his shadow, felt his heart and breath stop.

"If you go into the Ghostlands, you may lose him to what he once was. You might not find your sister, or succeed in rescuing her. You dislike me for saying these things, but I'm warning you-the Madadh aillaid, Seth Lot, was held at bay by Reiko and David Ryder. He's the thing in the dark, the beast in the forest. He is the Erl King."

"And Caliban works for him. Caliban came to my house . . . I think. There were animal prints in the snow. And Moth . . . Moth was out there and fought him off."

"Then Moth is more than he seems. Did you see this happen?"

"No."

"And Leander Cyrus? Have you had contact with him?"

"A little."

"I don't like any of this." Phouka rose and began to pace. Finn, who had never seen the cool Fata girl nervous, found it alarming.

"Leander bleeds." Finn stood to face her. "I think he still loves my sister. You know I'll find a way to get there."

"For us, there are many ways into the Taibhse na Tir. It's our element. I've shut most of those ways. For your kind, there's only one entrance now."

"Okay. A bargain then-"

"No." Phouka's eyes darkened and she almost seemed like the girl she might once have been. "You poor mortals, with all your heartweaving and unraveling. There'll be no bargain. I'll help you because you already did me a good turn on All Hallows' Eve."

PHOUKA WANTED TO SPEAK TO JACK ALONE, so Finn and Moth stepped onto a terrace overlooking the revel in the courtyard, where bonfires roared in stone urns and lanterns of colored glass hung from the trees. A young man in a floor-length dark coat was playing a fiddle while a wiry man with black-and-gold hair beat at drums. Finn recognized the fiddler as Farouche the love-talker, one of Jack's friends, the one who had lured Sylvie into Reiko's spell. She still didn't understand Fata allegiances-they seemed to be loyal to no one but themselves.

Moth frowned down at the revelers, all of whom were either masked, tattooed, or wearing elaborate face paint. Finn, who had finally stopped feeling the effects from the encounter with the Grindylow, suspected the adrenaline spike now keeping her alert would also prevent her from sleeping. "I'm sorry, Moth, for what happened to you."

He raised his head and looked at her. "Finn-"

A girl in a sleeveless black gown moved up the terrace stairs, her hair the color of the marigolds wreathing it. She smiled. "Serafina Sullivan. Hullo-I'm Aurora Sae, one of Jack's friends. We haven't met properly."

"Hello." Finn reluctantly clasped the Fata girl's hand.

"I'm glad"-Aurora Sae smiled-"that you had a better trick than Reiko."

The fiddler in the long coat was swaggering toward the terrace, blood-red hair sweeping over his face in the snowy wind. He bounded up the stairs, bowed briefly, and said, "No hard feelings, serpent slayer?"

"No hard feelings?" Finn felt snarly. "You terrorized one friend and handed both to the Grindylow."

"Farouche!" Aurora Sae pushed at him, seeming genuinely angry.

"It was the Teind and Reiko was my queen." Farouche shook his hair back from a face that would have been beautiful if he wasn't what he was. "I couldn't not do what she wanted." He smiled at Moth. "Who is your sullen friend?"

Moth leaned against a wall painted with a mural of a winged boy burning a butterfly. He didn't answer. If he didn't recognize Farouche, he recognized what he was.

"We're not all like Farouche." Aurora Sae slid an arm through Finn's. "Come meet the others."

"I'd rather not," Finn began, but Aurora Sae whispered, "You must make friends among us. We do understand friendship, Finn Sullivan."

With Moth following, Finn allowed the Fata girl to introduce her to Jack's vagabonds, who were as stunningly attractive as other Fatas but less alien in their nature-or better at hiding it: the wiry drummer, Atheno; the dark-haired boy called Black Apple; Darling Ivy, the girl with the shaven head. Dogrose was dressed in old velvet, with glitter dusting his brown skin. Pretty, tawny-haired Wren's Knot leaned against Dogrose's knee, holding a staff topped with a doll's head.

Finn soon found herself seated at the base of a winged statue with Aurora Sae, who began weaving violets into Finn's hair. The drummer Atheno brought Finn a slice of wedding cake, and the boy called Black Apple offered her a cup of dark wine, which Moth seized and dumped.

Black Apple frowned. "Rude."

As the Fata boy drifted back among the revelers with Aurora Sae, to dance, Moth hunkered down beside the statue and, for a moment, he reminded Finn of Jack when he'd been a Jack. As Moth disdainfully watched the Fatas, Finn said faintly, "It must be nice."

Moth's eyes narrowed. "Nice? They've no purpose. No history. Just this. Just now. And they are as thoughtlessly cruel as rabid cats."

Finn considered the Fatas. "They're acting like the Winkie guards after Dorothy killed the Wicked Witch."

"Pardon?"

"Never mind." She saw Jack and Phouka step onto the terrace and it looked as though they were arguing. She met Moth's gaze. "Tell me about my sister."

Moth bowed his head, hesitated, before speaking softly, "He cannot touch Lily, the Wolf. She's innocent and strong. To him, she's like the sun. His court is filled with criminals and outcasts-"

"So was Reiko's."

"Lot's Fatas are not like these. Lot's tribe are blood drinkers, ghouls, elf knights, corrupting spirits, goblins, gorgons . . ."

Finn felt fear whip through her. "Lily . . ."

"There is one among them who became Lily Rose's armor, who kept her from any mischief, a boy who was once mortal."

"You mean Leander." She remembered what Leander had shown her-Lily Rose in that decaying mansion.

"Cyrus didn't know, when he met Lily, what Lot was planning for her."

"What about you? Were you Lily's friend?"

"Lot was never concerned about me and Lily Rose in his house. But when he found out about Leander's visits to Lily-Leander had to run. Yes, I think Lily Rose and I were friends."

He stood and looked down at her, and his tangled hair shone. "Your sister won't break. But you need to get her out of there. There are things I'm remembering. I remember the inside of the Wolf's house, if Jack has forgotten. I'll lead you to her."

Finn smiled. "I know you will."

MOTH REMAINED AT TIRNAGOTH and Jack drove Finn home. As they got out of the car, she gripped his hand, worried about the darkness in his eyes. "You're staying, aren't you? I don't want you to be in that apartment alone."

Jack's voice bled exhaustion. "Let Moth and me fetch your sister. Live your life. Be happy. If we succeed, you'll be happier."

"And if you don't succeed? What then? I just live my happy life without you? Without a sister I could have saved? Waiting for that bastard to come after me? No. You can't change my mind, so why are you trying?" She stalked toward her house.

He caught up to her. "I've stolen away enough of your days and nights."

She frowned. "'Stolen my days . . . ?' Don't you ever say anything like that to me again."

His voice was low. "You could have died tonight."

"I didn't. How are your wounds?"

"And who asks their boyfriend questions like: 'How are your wounds?' That isn't normal, Finn."

"Well, what if you were really into football or skateboarding or extreme sports?"

"I wouldn't have wounds," he gently explained. "I'd have injuries."

"How are your injuries?"

"They hurt."

"Come on. My da's out. I'll fix you up."

His smile was wicked. "Are we going to play doctor?"

"Maybe." She unlocked the door and pulled him into the house, which was still drafty despite the heat rattling the radiators. The hall lamp had been left on. They trudged up the stairs.

The instant he shut the door to her room, he dragged her against him and she wound her arms around his neck as his mouth slid over hers. The wanton gentleness of the kiss sent sparks through her and he smelled so good. Their coats landed on the floor. She needed only this, his salty skin and his mouth, this fragile desire- "Ouch," he said and she pulled back. He smiled ruefully and she noticed, now, the split in his lip.

"I thought I tasted blood." She tenderly touched his mouth. "Do you hate it?"

"Hate what?"

"Being . . . you know . . . breakable."

"Well, if you can do it, so can I." He grinned, winced again.

When someone rapped gently at her terrace doors, Jack sighed. "It's Absalom."

She saw, beyond the glass, the youth with the orange hair. When he winked, she scowled and wondered how long he'd been there. She stepped away from Jack, rubbing the back of her neck.

Jack opened the doors and Absalom, looking like a harmless waif in a down coat, said, "May I come in?"

"Finn?" Jack glanced at her.

"He's your friend."

"But this is your house."

"Absalom may come in. Only Absalom."

"There's only me." Absalom stepped over the threshold. He carried a Bruce Lee lunchbox, which he opened to reveal a piece of brass shaped like a heart with a compass in it. Jack, gazing down at it, said, "What is that?"

"The Grindylow's heart." Absalom held it out to Jack, who tentatively accepted it. "Phouka sent me to LeafStruck to clean up the Grindylow and check on Miss Olive. So I took this as a souvenir. It's a compass. It guides the Grindylow back to its owner."