"What is it with you and food?" Tommy asked.

"I think you dropped something at the garden," Dennett said, and the other boys snickered. "Your b.a.l.l.s, Tommy. Some kid is playing with them in the garden."

Tommy mopped up the water in front of him with his napkin. The hall had grown quiet again. At the front, a few of the professors excused themselves and left the dining hall. The rest made a point of talking among themselves and pretending to ignore the situation. Rannigan was the only one who was watching openly.

"We've been talking about you," Kristoph said.

"You've got nothing better to do?" Tommy replied.

"And we've decided that you must be a pansy boy," Kristoph continued. "That explains why you're such a fruitcake."

Tommy wasn't sure if he should stand up and leave or sit there and take it. Either way, people would think he was an idiot. Across the table, Ellie was red faced and furious. Kristin was staring at the entrance like she was wishing she was somewhere else.

"Pansy boys should really wear some face paint and ribbons," Kristoph said. "Why don't you ask your girlfriends for some?"

"Shut up, Kristoph," Ellie, who couldn't keep quiet anymore, said.

"Close your trap, dog face," Kristoph said.

"Hey!" Tommy stood up abruptly, pleased to see that Kristoph took a step backward. "Leave her alone."

"You know what your brother told us?" Kristoph retorted. "Your father thinks you're a pansy, too."

Tommy hesitated. Either Kristoph was skilled at saying the right things to hurt someone or Bern had talked about Tommy to his friends. Colston Sh.o.r.e probably did think Tommy was a misfit, but it was a betrayal that Bern would actually reveal that to anyone else.

Kristoph spun around to address the hall, speaking loudly so the remaining students and professors could hear him, "There ought to be a law. No pansy boys in Seminary. Will someone please take out the trash?"

There was a smattering of laughter among the rest of the students. Suddenly Tommy wanted to kill Kristoph. Throw him down on the ground and smash his face. But if he swung at Kristoph, he'd get himself expelled. So instead, he turned and walked away.

"A pansy and a coward?" Kristoph called. "Pathetic."

When he reached the door, he could still hear the lads laughing at his expense. Tommy wished he could enjoy the irony of Kristoph calling him a coward. Here was a rich kid who destroyed a poor man's garden in the dead of night. As Tommy yanked the door open and hurried down the stairs, he wondered if he should wait for the girls. If they didn't follow him, he would look even more like an idiot. It was getting dark and he wasn't supposed to leave the Seminary at this hour. He was going to have to slip out a side gate to avoid being stopped by a guard. If he got caught, it would mean trouble, but with his face still burning with humiliation, he really didn't care. He wanted to get out of there-beyond the walls of Seminary. He wanted to be beyond the reach of any Zunftman.

Go over Shadow Bridge, take a right at Connell, and go two blocks east. That's what Emilie had told him that night in the cabaret. He found the Plough and Sun, a pub with a wooden sign swinging in the cool breeze. Warm firelight glowed under the door, and even from the street, he could hear lively fiddle music and laughter. When Tommy stepped inside, he was met with a blast of heat. He surveyed the room anxiously, but no one paid any attention to him. He was yet another body in the already packed establishment. A crowd of people danced on the open floor in front of the roaring fireplace. The inside of the pub was bigger than it looked from the street. There were high-backed booths along the far wall and long tables and benches in the center of the room.

Tommy was happy to see that, like him, most of the men wore brown trousers and long-sleeved shirts. Many had their vests on and their sleeves rolled up. Tommy shoved his green scarf in his pocket and loosened the b.u.t.tons on his jacket. He gingerly navigated the crowd and waited patiently in the crush of people near the bar. After ordering shepherd's pie and a mug of cider from the harried barkeep, he asked her about Emilie Johns, but he could barely make himself heard over the noise. So he found an empty alcove in a far corner away from the boisterous dancers and waited for his food. It was dimly lit and colder in the back of the pub. A half-burned candle flickered in the center of the scarred tabletop.

Tommy poked at the base of the candle, leaving fingerprints in the soft wax pooling in the tin holder. A shadow fell across the table and he jerked his hand away, expecting to see the server. But it was Emilie. Her long red hair was loose around her shoulders tonight. She seemed happier and more relaxed than she had at the Estoria. She set a covered crockery dish in front of him. Steam wafted out from under the lid, and Tommy realized how hungry he was.

"Don't look so guilty," she said. "It's only candle wax."

"Hey," he said. "It's a Sat.u.r.day night, so ... here I am."

"I didn't think you would come," she said.

"Is it all right that I'm here?" he asked.

"Why did you come?" she asked, sliding into the booth across from him.

"The entertainment is better here," Tommy said, nodding toward the band, which had just finished a set. They were stowing their instruments back in their cases, and the dancers were heading off the floor for a break. The noise in the pub settled down to a dull roar.

"Better than the Estoria?" She laughed. "Well, at least we agree on something."

"How did you know I was here?" Tommy wondered.

Emilie nodded toward the bar. "Jeanie said you were asking about me."

There was an awkward silence while Tommy took a bite of the pie, which was delicious.

"Wow, this reminds me of my childhood," Tommy said appreciatively.

"Your childhood on Aeren," she repeated thoughtfully.

"Yes. I miss Mrs. Trueblood. She's our-"

"Mrs. Trueblood is my relation," Emilie interrupted. "I've actually heard her talk about you before. She said you were the sweet one."

"I don't think anyone in the world would ever call my brother sweet," Tommy said.

"She said you liked to read, and you used to share your books with her," Emilie said.

Tommy shrugged. "She was welcome to any of the books. She liked archaeology as much as me."

"You helped her in the kitchen," Emilie said.

"Sure. That was the best room in the house." Tommy was a little surprised at how much Emilie knew about him. He knew nothing at all about her. "What about you-"

"She said your father was a monster to you," she interrupted again, ignoring his question.

"Well, monster is probably too strong-"

"She said he made you stand in the corner with weights tied to your ears for hours for interrupting him when he was speaking to you."

"Oh, well, maybe that's why they stick out so much." Tommy tried to make a joke. "The good thing was that he wasn't there much. Mrs. Trueblood was."

The girl started at him intently. She had a slight furrow between her eyebrows, and Tommy squirmed under her intense scrutiny. This felt like an interrogation and he didn't really like it.

"Have you heard anything about Mrs. Trueblood?" Tommy asked.

"She has a first name," the girl said, with a trace of annoyance. "Do you know what it is?"

"Greta," Tommy said.

"Why don't you call her that?" she asked.

"Do you call your mother by her first name?" Tommy asked.

"She's not your mother," the girl said.

"I guess not," Tommy said. "But when I was child, it felt like she was. It's not that I don't know her name. I call her Mrs. Trueblood out of respect."

The girl picked at the candle wax. "That makes sense. Sorry, I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

"Do you miss Aeren?" Tommy asked her.

"Every day," she said.

"Did you ever climb to the top of Giant's Ridge?"

"Sure, we live along Miller's Road. My sister and I would go up there on Sundays after ch.o.r.es were done."

"It's amazing that we never ran into you because Bern and I used to go up there on Sundays, too," Tommy said. "We practically grew up next door, and I never saw you."

"Well, not really next door. We went to school on the other side of the ridge, down in the valley."

"All the way down in the valley?" Tommy asked. "How long did that take?"

"An hour each way," the girl said. "And we did see you sometimes on Miller's Road, Tommy. We made sure you never saw us."

"Why?" Tommy asked.

"Your brother treated us like imbeciles," she said. "Even though Mrs. Trueblood said you were different, I didn't believe her."

"It's hard to believe she doesn't work at Sh.o.r.e Manor anymore," Tommy said. "When I go back home, she won't be there."

"Well, she's not dead," Emilie said. "She's safe and sound."

"I didn't think she was dead," Tommy said.

Emilie said nothing for a long moment. "Why did you help me that day in the woods?"

"It was raining and there was a rover driving up and down Miller's Road," Tommy said.

"But you must have known I was a cottager," the girl said.

"If they had found you, they would have arrested you," Tommy said. "It wouldn't have mattered what you were doing, you would have been in trouble."

"Did you think about what happened in Port Kenney?" Emilie asked.

"Not at the time," Tommy said. "If I shouldn't have come here, I can go. I was humiliated in front of my cla.s.smates and teachers, and I wanted to be somewhere that the Zunft weren't."

"I want to show you something," the girl said. "Will you come with me?"

"What is it?" Tommy asked, taking another bite of his pie.

"Will you come?" she asked again.

"It's not like I'm in a hurry to get back to Seminary," he said. "The lads are probably trashing my room as we speak."

"Why? Did you tell someone that you were coming? Your brother?"

"No. And my brother is the last one I'd tell."

"Can you give me a few minutes?" Emilie said. "I need to finish something up in the kitchen. You finish your pie, and I'll be back in five."

"Where are we going?" Tommy asked.

"To see Mrs. Trueblood," Emilie said. "She doesn't want the Zunft to know she's in Sevenna, but she'd make an exception for you."

"She's here in the city?" Tommy exclaimed. "Why didn't you say so? Of course I'll wait! Take your time."

Emilie gave him a bright smile and disappeared into the kitchen while Tommy settled back and happily finished his pie.

In the kitchen, Tamsin searched for the sharpest knife she could find. After digging through a drawer of dull table knives, she found a long, narrow carving knife that was the perfect size to slide inside her boot. She was holding it up to check the sharpness when the kitchen door opened and Gavin stepped inside. She didn't even try to hide the knife, and from his face, she could tell he knew exactly what she was planning to do.

"Is that him out there in the booth?" Gavin asked. "That slender kid with black hair? Try to think of life from his perspective, Tamsin. I'm sure it isn't easy being the son of someone like Colston Sh.o.r.e."

"Shut it," Tamsin snapped. "I know what I'm doing."

"What's the plan?" Gavin asked. She could tell by his voice that he was angry, but his face was a mask of calm. "Are you going to drag him into a back alley and cut his throat?"

"No!" Tamsin said. "I'm going to..."

"What?" Gavin pressed when she paused. "Overpower him? Lock him in a bas.e.m.e.nt? Make demands for his release? Isn't that how these things go? I notice it's worked so well for Hywel's kidnappers. Maybe you should go into business with them."

"I don't know how this works, but it's something!" Tamsin said. "Papa's trial has started. He's got a week at most before they find him guilty and shoot him and the others."

"That's right," Gavin said. "He knew the risk of what he was doing."

"He knew the risk?" Tamsin repeated. "Is that all you can say?"

"I want you to stop and think about the consequences," Gavin said. "Who else are you dragging into this?"

"Think about the consequences if I do nothing!" Tamsin insisted.

"Remember what you told me that night in the JFA office?" Gavin asked. "You had been told to do something, and you didn't question it. That's what you said, remember?"

"Yes, but-" Tamsin began.

"You thought I didn't know what you meant, but I did," Gavin said. "Your father involved you in Port Kenney. I think he involved you in the uprising knowing full well that you might die."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Tamsin said.

"People lost their lives that day, and you're partly responsible," Gavin said. "You have to bear that burden, but your father's burden is much worse. He should do everything in his power to keep you safe, and instead he put you in harm's way."

"But it was for the greater good!" Tamsin insisted.

"Tamsin, I know your father better than you do," Gavin said. "He is an amazing man, no doubt, but he wanted glory. He wanted the August Rising so he would be elevated above the common man, to be a leader worthy of legend. It was more about him than the greater good."