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morning."

    "Indeed it is," he said with an expansive smile. I recognized the smile; it was the one he wore almost constantly around Stephen and Vicky. I wondered distractedly if either of them ever saw in it the fanged snarl that I saw. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

    I froze, and no plausible lie came to mind.

    "Nowhere?" he said. "That's what I thought." His paw tightened, and he turned me around with him. "Someone who didn't know better might imagine that you were planning to skip court."

    I made a faint, inarticulate noise, but he took no notice. "I'm surprised at you, Felix. You left your sash in my room, and you need to bathe and change." He gave me a sidelong, glittering smile that made me feel like a rabbit who sees the shadow of an owl. "We certainly don't want to be late."

    "We?"

    He couldn't have heard me; it wasn't even a whisper. But he knew, and he was gloating. "Absolutely. You don't think I'd desert my protégé just when he needs me, do you, Felix?"

    "No," I said, and as he pulled me past the Harriers' Gate, I saw the sun rising over the walls of the city.

    Mildmay

    I made it back to Midwinter about the second hour of the morning. Scabious was on the front stoop, pretending like he wasn't waiting for me.

    "Morning, Scabious," I said.

    "Hi, Gilroi." He shuffled his feet and said, "You're home early. Late, I mean."

    "Yeah."

    "Um. Is everything okay?"

    "Sure."

    "Were you out all night?" His eyes were wide.

    "Yeah." He would've been thrilled to death if I'd told him even a quarter of what I'd been up to. I said, "I got to get some sleep. Later, okay?"
    "Sure! I mean, you know… sleep well, Gilroi." He went red as a brick.
    "Thanks, Scabious."

    I went inside. Scabious's mother was waiting for me, arms folded, at the foot of the stairs.

    "Rent ain't due for a half decad," I said.

    She looked me up and down, making me realize that the knee was out of my right trouser leg and the front of my shirt was covered with muck. And I was out without a coat. But Mrs. Pickering never had thought I was a gentleman. "What nonsense are you filling my boy's head with now?"

    I was too tired even to be pissed off. "Mrs. Pickering, I—"

    "I know. Pure as rainwater, you are. Never broken the law in your life."

    "Whatever I done, I ain't gonna hurt Scabious."

    "Not if you know what's good for you," she said and finally quit blocking the damn stairs.

    "Yeah," I said and dragged myself up to my room to get some sleep.

    Felix

    We waited in Malkar's preferred antechamber, the Crimson, for court to convene. It had been six years since I had been in the Crimson Antechamber, and I had forgotten how much I hated it, hated that particular crowd of hungry, ambitious wizards who cultivated Malkar like fanatical gardeners with a hothouse flower. And Malkar smiled and let them. They had all hated me, and there was some tiny, mean part of me, the part that was still a whore, that enjoyed the looks on their faces when I followed Malkar into the room: those huge, horrified eyes, those hasty, fake smiles—for of course I had hated them, too, insane with jealousy that Malkar might decide he wanted one of them instead of me.

    A pinch-faced spidery little man, whose name I could not remember, said, "Lord Malkar, is it true? Is he really…"

    The water torture would have been nothing compared to the silence that followed his question; I could feel Malkar wondering if it would be amusing to force me to answer. But this time the knowledge that he could have done so was enough. He said, "From Pharaohlight? Yes, of course."

    "But you never… Why?"

    "Because he asked me not to," Malkar said, shrugging, and I cringed at the warm generosity in his voice. The Mirador knew how vain I was; they would not judge Malkar's explanation implausible or incomplete in the slightest.

    No one had an answer to that. I could feel Malkar's malicious enjoyment. I locked my throat against the keening noise building in my chest, looked