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garden. Fox wrestled off his robe and wig as
he ran. An errant wind caught the robe, whisked it skyward, and
draped a scarecrow in alchemist blue.
    Delgar grinned in appreciation. His smile dropped
away, though, at what he saw in the alley ahead.

CHAPTER FOUR: The Fox’s Den
    Fox’s gut twisted at the sight in the alley ahead. A
small woman in a dark cloak whirled and twisted, trying without
success to break free of the two men who spun her back and forth
between them, like tomcats toying with a lone mouse.
    She needed help. He couldn’t just leave her. But if
they stopped, Rhendish’s clockworks guards would catch them.
    Evasion or rescue: In Fox’s opinion, no one should
have to make that choice.
    Inspiration struck, and with it the realization that
perhaps he wouldn’t have to choose.
    There was, after all, more than one way to create an
illusion.
    “Head straight for them,” he told the dwarf. “Can you
get the girl?”
    Delgar sent him a cocky grin. “Don’t I always?”
    They ran toward the embattled woman. Fox skidded to a
stop a few paces away, but the dwarf dipped one shoulder, scooped
up the woman, and kept going without missing a step.
    The thugs howled curses and gave pursuit. Before
they’d taken two steps, Fox crossed his arms, reached into his
opposite sleeves, and came up with a throwing knife in each
hand.
    Two quick flicks sent the knives spinning toward the
thugs. Steel found flesh, the first knife slicing across the tall
man’s calf, the second burying itself hilt-deep in the shorter
man’s left buttock.
    Fox flashed past them at an easy loping pace. The
sounds of battle in the alley behind him brought a grim smile to
his face.
    Rhendish’s clockwork marvels could do many things,
but apparently they couldn’t distinguish between the two sets of
criminals.
    He quickened his pace and caught up to Delgar. “It
worked. You can let her down now.”
    The dwarf slowed to a stop, a broad grin on his face.
He gestured to the woman slung over his shoulder. “Are you sure?
Because I could carry this little thing for— eeeeeOW! ”
    Before Delgar’s surprised yelp died away, the woman
launched herself forward, rolled, and came up onto her feet.
    Fox caught her wrist before she could flee. She tried
to jerk away. The sharp movement tossed back the dark hood of her
cloak.
    For many moments, the world swam and spun as Fox
stared into a face that was grim, beautiful, and hauntingly
familiar.
    “She bit me!” Delgar clapped one hand to his
backside.
    She responded with a string of lilting sounds that
gave Fox the impression of summer winds and liquid gold.
    Delgar rumbled something curt and angry. The elf—for
an elf she undoubtedly was—responded with a sweet comment that
brought a flush of rage to the Carmot’s face.
    The brief interlude gave Fox time to gather his wits.
“I know you,” he said.
    The elf shrugged and started to shake her head.
Something flickered in her eyes. She reached out to touch his
hair.
    “Fox pelt,” she said.
    A smile burst over the thief’s face like sunrise. “It is you! I wasn’t sure at first. Your hair and eyes are a
different color. Of course, it was summer then.” He frowned as the
obvious occurred to him. “Wait a minute—it’s summer now.”
    “I was wounded in midwinter. Now that I am well and
can walk in the sun again, the Greening will come.”
    Fox nodded and spun toward Delgar. “I grew up on the
mainland, on the edge of the forest. I wandered off when I was
about nine. I spent the night in a tree, which seemed like a good
idea until I fell out of the tree and into the river. This elf
pulled me out of the water, brought me home. She saved my
life.”
    “And now you’ve returned the favor,” Delgar said. “It
all evens out, everyone can go home.”
    The elf slipped her wrist out of Fox’s unresisting
hand. “What he says is true,” she said. “Any debt between us is
paid. I have no right to ask for your help.”
    It was on the tip of