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the scents of her—the soap she made from herbs in her garden coupled with auto grease and earth. “Jeff ’s money comes from the wrong side of the law. That’s why your mother doesn’t want to use illgotten gains. Instead, she saves it for you—her hope for a better life.”
    “He flies cargo vessels.” The light in Noli’s eyes went out completely, her shoulders rounding in defeat.
    “That he does—vessels of stolen cargo.”
    “I can’t believe he’s an air-pirate,” she sobbed into his arms.
    Noli was sheltered, naive. He often wished he still lived in an innocent world. But this way he could protect Noli and his little sister. It was one of the few duties he didn’t mind. Even here, in the wilds of Los Angeles his father insisted they uphold their ways.
    He, too, was his family’s hope for a better life.
    Finally, her sobs slowed. Putting her forehead to his, he looked into her amazing steel-colored eyes for what would probably be the last time. “Go on inside, it’s growing late.”
    “I still have to pack.” She hiccupped.
    “Be careful, please? Watch for aether and don’t talk to strange faeries.” He smiled.
    She smiled back. “Faeries? You’re such a fussy old bodger and I’m going to miss you.”
    “I’ll miss you too. Goodnight, Noli.” Would she ever call him a fussy old bodger again? Would they sit in the tree house discussing philosophy, history, or her favorite—botany? Probably not. The idea both saddened and angered him.
    “Goodnight, V.” With a wave, she climbed down the tree.
    “Goodbye, Noli,” he whispered as she went inside. “May the Bright Lady keep you safe.” With all that lurked in San Francisco, she’d need it.

Four
    Findlay House
    Noli looked out the window of the hired, horse-drawn carriage into the cobblestone streets filled with cool, gray mist. Why did people still use these when much more interesting conveyances existed? She, her mother, and Officer Davies made the long and tiring journey from Los Angeles to San Francisco by steam train. Her mother didn’t like autos any more than she liked airships, just one more indication she was stuck in the past.
    Officer Davies came with them for two reasons, one to make sure Noli didn’t give her mother any trouble, and two because respectable women never traveled alone. Even cities like Los Angeles and San Francisco held to outdated conventions of propriety.
    “We’re nearly there.” Her mother’s voice held forced cheer. She believed she always needed to have a sunny disposition no matter what—except when she scolded Noli.
    Noli didn’t respond, continuing to stare out the window and play with her gloves as a steam trolley puffed by. She couldn’t believe they were sending her to school in San Francisco.
    Did her mother secretly hope she’d disappear, too?
    No. It was coincidence. That’s all. Her father would return. He had to.
    “This is a good opportunity, Noli,” Officer Davies told her.
    Ignoring him, she continued to brood in silence as the carriage slowed to a stop. Their nice lunch at the train station sat in her belly like a lump of lead. She squirmed in her seat and played with her gloves until her mother reached out and put a hand over hers. Scenarios about cruel headmistresses, dreadful condition, and mean girls pulled from every book she’d read about boarding schools danced through her mind like a zoetrope.
    The imposing gothic house sent shivers down her spine. The yellow paint did little to make it seem cheerful. The spires and large windows reminded her of spiteful eyes watching her every move. A tall, wrought-iron fence surrounded the house like a prison. Her stomach sank all the way to her toes. Next she’d spy a sign reading “Findlay School for Wayward Hoydens.”
    The entire street looked gray and worn, though its previous opulence remained evident from the fine homes to the brass gas lamps and cobblestones. Once, this neighborhood of mansions probably held society’s