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the whole place was horribly silent.
    â€œAll right,” said Edgar. “We’ve got wardens on the loose and a creepy old guy in the cellar. Now are you ready to run?”
    â€œI’m not going anywhere without Artemis.”
    â€œThey think he’s one of the Skilled, Kate! They think he was the one who brought that bird to life. They’re not going to just hand him over. You know what that means, right?”
    Kate didn’t want to think about what it meant. All she knew was that her uncle was in trouble because of her. She was not going to leave him behind.
    â€œThat man we saw back at the shop, he’s trouble,” said Edgar. “Have you ever heard of Silas Dane?”
    Kate shook her head.
    â€œHe’s a collector. One of the best. Whatever the High Council wants, he goes out and gets it for them. And if he’s got your uncle—”
    A shout from outside cut him off, and Kate ran to the window, rubbing grime away from a blue pane to look out across the square.
    The market square was not a market any longer. Clustered among the squat wooden stalls were dozens of metal cages, each one mounted on wheels, with two horses at the front and big enough for four or five people to be squeezed inside. There were wardens out there. Kate counted at least thirty, with more arriving all the time, all pacing around the square in their black robes, surrounding groups of people like vultures circling a kill.
    The wardens shouted orders as they walked, dragging people out of the crowd and forcing them into the cages, ready to be sent off to war. Every one of the wardens was armed, but the town had been taken by surprise and there had been no resistance strong enough to require bloodshed yet. The town would be harvested, and the wardens would be gone as suddenly as they had arrived. Everyone knew what to expect. Morvane was beaten, and there was nothing anybody could do.
    The sun was shining brightly now and the air was crisp and cold, tainted by the smell of smoke. Kate looked across the square to the bookshop. The little building was completely ablaze. Its windows were smashed, the lower floor was engulfed in flames, and smoke was pouring from the upstairs rooms, snaking up into the sky, taking everything she had ever known with it.
    â€œLook,” said Edgar. “Over there.”
    Something was going on in the northeastern corner of the square, where a tall man was standing next to the town’s memorial stone. Kate recognized him at once. The man with gray eyes. Silas Dane.
    She pressed her cheek against the window to get a better view and saw a group of prisoners standing near him with their hands tied. One of them was being supported by one of the others, unable to put his weight upon an injured ankle. “Artemis,” said Kate, pushing away from the window and making a sudden run for the door, all fear of the wardens forgotten.
    â€œKate! Look out!”
    Something sharp and silver cut through the air, narrowly missing Kate’s arm, and Edgar ran to her, fleeing from a face that had appeared on the other side of the bar.
    The old man from the tunnels looked even more terrifying in the sunlight. Everything about him looked pointed and vicious. His nose was short and sharp, his cheekbones jutted out, and his mouth looked more like a beak, with a pointed top lip spiking down over a thin scar where the lower lip used to be. He crept forward and drew a second dagger from his rat-eaten belt, a smile squirming across his lips.
    â€œGotcha now, girly.” He raised his hand to throw another blade, and the bright glint of metal flashed again.
    Kate ducked. The dagger flew over her head and thrummed into the door. Then Kalen was in front of her. He reached out and clamped his cold hands around her neck, pinning her back hard against the door handle.
    â€œSuch a pretty girl.” He grinned, breathing out a cloud of stinking breath. “I’ll teach ya to go pokin’