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the others, unhappy that it fell on him to deliver the news. “Loden showed up, right when Fay and that little girl were leaving. He became very charming and convinced Fay to go back to the palace. She’s still there, as far as we know.”
    Umber’s mouth hung slack. Oates shrugged, dropped his bulk into a chair, and piled food on a plate.
    Hap watched with alarm as the color started to drain from Umber’s face. He leaned across the table and clutched Umber’s forearm. “The archives that Caspar took, Lord Umber. With your stolen documents about the Meddlers. Caspar kept them in a strongbox, and it’s on the ship right now!”
    Umber’s head sprang back up. “Here? In a strongbox? What was in it?”
    Hap grinned. “It hasn’t been opened yet. I was waiting until you felt better.”
    Umber pushed himself to his feet and rubbed his hands together. “Then your wait is over. Let’s crack it open now!”
    Hap stood, and Balfour got up to go with them. Umber put a hand on Balfour’s shoulder. “My dear friend,” Umber said. “I think Hap and I ought to do this alone. Do you mind terribly?”
    Balfour’s shoulders sagged. “Not at all, Umber. Go right ahead. The strongbox was in your cabin all this while.”
    Umber and Hap sat cross-legged on the floor with Caspar’s strongbox between them.
    Umber rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, still coming back to life. He narrowed his eyes, peering at the top of Hap’s head. “Hap—you’ve got more of those hairs now. Twice as many as before.”
    “I know,” Hap said, almost moaning the words. He’d plucked one of those strands once to examine it. It looked white at first glance, but on closer examination it gleamed with color, like diamonds spun into string. In fact, it looked a bit like the filaments that he would sometimes envision. The change in his hair, he supposed, was part of the process of turning into a Meddler. It made him squirm to think about it, so he turned Umber’s attention back to the strongbox by tapping it. “There’s something else in there. You can hear it rolling around.”
    Umber raised an eyebrow. He gave the box a shove, and there was a muffled thump from inside. “Now I’m extra curious.” He pulled the loop of a chain over his neck, with his remarkable key dangling. Even as it swung back and forth like a pendulum, its shape changed to match the nearest lock. Umber opened the padlocks first, and the chains slithered to the floor. Then he slipped the key into the embedded lock and turned it. The lid rose with the faintest squeak from its well-oiled hinges.
    Hap dug his fingertips into his knees. Inside the strongbox were the stolen secrets of the Meddlers: the answers he’d been seeking since he’d woken, devoid of memory, in an entombed city months before.
    Umber peered into the interior. His eyebrows rose and his mouth formed a tiny, puckered smile. With both hands, he reached down and lifted out a large object wrapped in heavy canvas. He turned it from side to side, showing Hap its fat oval shape. “Hmm. Any guesses, Hap?”
    Hap’s nose wrinkled. The guess that someone had already made seemed all too likely. “A skull?”
    “Good answer! Let’s find out,” Umber said. He turned the object in his hand to unwind its wrapping. Hap braced himself, fully expecting to see gaping sockets and a frozen grin.
    “Ouch!” Umber sucked on the pad of his thumb. Then he put the thing on the floor and carefully removed the last flaps of canvas, revealing a large tan object that tapered to a blunt point at one end. It was covered with inch-long thorns.
    Hap put his nose near the thing. “What is it?”
    “A nut!” Umber pronounced. He squinted at it. “I think, anyway. Here we have a big, prickly nut.”
    Hap frowned. “That doesn’t have anything to do with Meddlers, does it?”
    “Probably not. I suppose Caspar found it in some lost corner of the Aerie and decided to steal it, too.” Umber interlaced his fingers and