[MAGGIE'S PoV]

The menagerie, as it so happens, was exactly like a regular zoo, save for a few non-earth creatures like griffins and spiders the size of cows, supposedly native to the Wildlands. My favorite part was the butterfly room, but I was too busy dealing with Cas's horrific attempts at flirtation to enjoy it.

He wasn't a bad guy, really, and he was cute in a dopey sort of way. But I couldn't look at him without remembering that I was days away from killing his mom. And, somehow more difficult to admit, I couldn't look at him without comparing every single feature to Kindle.

Which was why, only moments after Cas returned me to my room, I sat down to write another letter to Kindle. This was my fifth letter in the brief time I'd been in Lumina, but Kindle had yet to send one back. Or rather, I'd had yet to receive one. I didn't know how long mail took by raven. Maybe he was writing to me and it just hadn't arrived yet. Or maybe my letters had yet to reach him.

Or, maybe he was happy to have the annoying human out from underfoot and didn't plan to write back at all. I sighed and shoved the paper back into my desk.

"...Okay, that's the sixth sigh in the past ten minutes, what's wrong..?" Carlyle materialized at my side.

I shook my head and leaned back. "It's nothing, I just... how long do letters take?"

"...As long as it takes you to write, I'd imagine..." I gave him a look, and Carlyle chuckled. "...Sorry, sorry. A letter from here to the manor should only take a day by raven."

A day? He really was ignoring me then, and here he had been the one to tell me to write in the first place. I propped my chin on my hands, playing our goodbye in my head for the millionth time. His warm hand gripping mine, the way he'd walked alongside the carriage...

"...Again with the sighing? C'mon, let's explore the palace more, or do some memory practice..." Carlyle whined.

"I feel like we've pretty much mastered the memory thing, haven't we?" With a groan, I stretched and wandered from the desk to the little round table on the other side of the room. True to his word, Cas had had an entire bouquet of those pretty blue roses delivered to my room, and while I slept one of my maids (or so I assumed) left a plate of pastries and fresh fruit next to it. I picked at the fruit. "Besides, I don't really want you peeking at any more of my memories."

Carlyle 'sat' on my bed. "...But I was thinking, what if there was a third party involved..?"

"Explain."

Excitement lit his blue-lipped face. "...You can see my memories when I touch you, and I can see the memories of anyone I touch. So wouldn't it be safe to assume that any memories I see are fair game for you as well..?"

"Huh." It was a reasonable assumption, and a potential game-changer if it worked out. Imagine what I could do for the Abandoned Order if I had a direct through-line to the Queen's memories? I sat next to Carlyle, considering. "How would we test this out?"

"...Two ways, and I'd like to test both if that's okay with you." Carlyle turned to face me and extended his hand with a flourish. "First, the usual method, but instead of trying to find one of my memories, look for the memories of someone I've touched. Kindle, or Faye, or Seraphim..." He winced, then added, "...Preferably not Seraphim..."

"And the second way?" I asked, bracing myself for the inevitable dizziness of his contact.

"...We'll worry about that after..."

Without any further dramatics, he pressed his fingers to my forehead and the world rippled around us.

I opened my eyes to Professor Kayts office, a steaming mug of tea in my right hand and a bundle of brand new charcoal pencils in my left. "I can't take this," I insisted, trying to give the pencils back.

"Oh n-no, you must!" Professor Kayts insisted, shadow-rimmed eyes buggy behind her thick glasses. She set down her own mug in order to wave the charcoals back towards me, careful as always never to touch me. She was a germaphobe or something like that. I'd never asked.

I'd only been in college for about two months, but I'd already formed a fast bond with Kayts, who was at the time of this memory my Art Appreciation 102 professor. The next year, I went out of my way to take her Art History class. She was an anxious, mousy person who always seemed seconds away from breaking down in tears, but she was friendly and genuinely interested in her students and their work.

I made a point of visiting her office hours at least once a week, for no reason other than to drink tea and talk about art. She never touched me, not even a friendly pat on the back, and she never talked about her life outside of teaching, but I enjoyed our time together.

The last time we spoke I'd mentioned an interest in working with sketch mediums other than standard pencil, and this week she presented me with a set of brand new charcoals. She'd once mentioned how little money she made teaching, and I was aggressively aware that if either of us should be offering gifts, it was the heiress to a not-so-small fortune. "Are you sure this is okay?" I insisted.

"Oh please let me do something for you," she begged, her eyes on the floor as she twisted her hands in her lap. "It's so kind of you to talk to me like this."

As much as I wanted to dwell in this memory, it was time to move on and get this test on the road. I wasn't sure how to pinpoint a memory that wasn't Carlyle's— All the little dots of light that floated in my peripheral looked the same. But I still had to try.

I thought about cinnamon and wood-smoke and chilly nights on the roof. I thought about warm brown skin and glowing fiery eyes. Anything that would remind me of Kindle.

Maybe it was my imagination, or maybe it was really working, but some of the pinpoints of light seemed to glow brighter. Taking the dive, I reached for one and let myself be sucked somewhere new.

I sat on my cot in the dining-hall-turned-medical-bay of the Embraced Order's manor, quiet and nervous, prodding the freshly sewn sword-slash on my left bicep. It hurt, I don't really know what I expected.

For the millionth time in the past half hour, my eyes flit towards the cot across from me, where Faye worked over Seraphim with terrifying intensity. The slash across his throat could have been deadly if he were in the hands of a lesser healer. But Faye was skilled, even for her age.

A flash of red hair not far away reminded me it wasn't only Faye I'd have to thank for keeping my best friend alive. Carlyle, one of the other young healers in our squadron, had been the one to stop the bleeding and give us the opportunity to move Ser to safety. As if he could feel my gaze, he met my eyes across the hall and nodded solemnly.

I hadn't trusted him at first. When he was stationed with our squadron, I'd argued it quite viciously the first night they gave him watch duty, thinking him a spy. He was human. Of course he was a liar. Of course he would betray us. But he didn't. He saved Seraphim's life, and mine.

Perhaps after all this, we could become friends.

A small, cold hand caught my arm, tugging lightly to get my attention. "I know you," said the owner of the hand, a tiny Noxian girl with black silk ribbons in her hair and violet eyes too big for her face.

I blinked. I knew her too, or rather knew of her. I'd heard rumors that she'd been sent into hiding, but I'd never expected to encounter her here. Lydianna D'Norse, the young queen of Nox.

Her eyes were full of hopeful awe. In her free hand, she clutched a worn, silver-bound book of Noxian histories. The cover was embossed with the moons, Movalissa the Mother and Parlakh the Pale. I'd only heard the stories once, from my mother, but I knew the significance they held in Noxian culture, especially to the queen herself.

"I know you," she repeated.

I shook my head. "You don't. I've never been to Nox."

The queen couldn't have been more than eight or nine years old, but she held my gaze with the stubborn intensity of someone years older than both of us. Maybe there was some merit to Noxian reincarnation theories after all. She clutched her book tighter, delicate fingers tracing the moons. "I do, I know you. You're my—"

My vision blurred, then darkened, then flashed a blinding white.

Carlyle clapped loudly, jolting me back to reality. "...That worked even better than I expected..!"

"Did it?" I winced as I rubbed cold sweat from my temples and considering what I'd just seen. "I didn't choose to leave the memory that time, it just sort of kicked me out. What happened?"

"...That was as much as I saw before Kindle kicked me out and ordered me to never touch him again..." Carlyle said with a casual shrug. "...So that confirms my theory, you can only see the memories I've already seen when going with that method..." He floated in his version of pacing. "...But it didn't require you to pass through one of my memories first. Interesting. Time to try option two..."

I didn't respond right away. That memory... was that the first time Kindle and Lydia met? I assumed as much, from his thoughts. But Lydia seemed convinced she knew him.

"You're my—" Her what? I chewed my lip, wishing I could just ask Kindle about it. But we didn't exactly seem to be on speaking terms at the moment, since he wasn't responding to my letters. And anyway, how would I even begin that conversation? Hey, I was looking in Carlyle's memories and happened to find a back door into yours. Sorry for the invasion of privacy, hope you don't mind. So anyway, can you clarify what Child-Lydia in that nearly ten-year-old memory of yours was talking about? Thanks.

Ha. Right.

Carlyle heaved a dramatic sigh of his own and floated into my line of sight. "...Maaaaggie, option twooo..." he prompted.

I rolled my eyes. "Which is?"

"...Call for your maids..." Carlyle said with an evil grin.

"I don't think I like this," I muttered, but I did as I was told and pulled the thick gold cord that hung next to my bed.

In less time than I expected, there were three knocks at my door— each a different height and volume— followed by three hushed voices arguing with each other on the other side. I rolled my eyes and pulled the door open. "Afternoon, ladies." I greeted.

The mermaid trio curtsied in perfectly rehearsed unison. "Good afternoon, Lady Jacintha."

I stepped to the side and ushered them in, glancing towards Carlyle for guidance. "...We'll start with the Cressidan..." he said, then upon registering my confusion elaborated, "...the little one that looks more like a fairy than a mermaid..."

"What do you need, milady?" Solana asked, pushing a blonde wave back into her bonnet.

"It's a bit early to prep for tonight's concert, did you want to take a bath?" Arenya, the Faye-clone, added.

"Oh, no, I'm alright, I just..." I glanced around the room until my eyes fell on the brand new canvas and paints set up by the window. I smiled warmly at the trio. "Dori had expressed interest in learning to paint, and I figured since there's time to kill we could have lunch delivered to the room and I'll teach you."

"Oh, will you really?" Eldoris gasped, bouncing on her toes. Now that I looked at her, she really did seem more like a fairy than a mermaid— at least compared to the few other fairies and merfolk I'd met. Her green eyes were tinged with a purpley teal, and the hair that fell from her bonnet was silver. Cressidan. What did that mean?

My reverie was cut short by a hiccuping sob from Solana. I stared at her in wide-eyed horror. Had I said something wrong?

She waved a hand toward me and dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief Arenya gave her. "Please pay me no mind, Miss. It's just—" she blew her nose loudly— "you're so very kind."

I grimaced. Yes, so kind. That's why I was luring them into my room at the whims of a somewhat sadistic ghost in order to spy on their memories without permission. "Please don't cry."

Dori led Solana to my desk chair and patted her back while Arenya went out into the hall to place our lunch order with one of the kitchen maids, leaving me standing awkwardly in the center of the room.

"I don't know if I like this," I repeated to Carlyle, moving my lips as minutely as possible.

"...Aw, why not..?" Carlyle frowned "...you don't think it's fun learning things about people..?"

"Not really, not without their permission. You said Kindle got mad at you when you did it to him, right?"

Carlyle laughed. "...Furious..."

"Right, so can we maybe just forget about this whole thing?" I pressed. "Please?"

"...And waste the perfect opportunity to gather information..?" Carlyle frowned, his voice going low as he became serious. "...Maggie, in just a few days you're going to kill someone, and you're worried about hurting someone's feelings? Do you want to get back home or not..?"

My hands trembled and I nodded, swallowing hard. Carlyle was right, as much as I disliked it. Regardless of how I felt, I had no choice but to throw one out—my morals or my only way home.

While waiting for lunch to arrive, I helped Solana and Eldoris begin a painting of the ocean. Arenya wasn't interested in painting, she'd said, so she sat at my desk and worked on needlepoint.

I showed them how to blend colors and pick the right brushes for the desired effect, and we chatted about how long they'd worked in the palace, the lives they'd had before, as well as a little bit about the lives they hoped to have one day in the future.

Solana and Arenya had been servants their entire lives. Arenya was born into the position with a maid for a mother and a stable hand for a father. Solana was taken off the street as a child, before non-humans were banned from entering Realta, and given a serving position in the house of a noble family. Eldoris was newer to the position, having moved to the palace shortly after the start of the war.

Servant, I quickly gathered, was just a nicer way to say slave. None of the girls were paid more than enough to afford basic necessities, and they weren't permitted to leave the palace grounds apart from rare, escorted trips to the market. The trio didn't seem to have a problem with it, which was a whole other can of worms to unpack.

"It's rare for our kind to find work at all these days," Arenya said.

"And Simone hardly hits us!" Eldoris added cheerfully.

I paled. "What?"

"Simone's the head maid here at the palace," Solana said, shooting Eldoris a warning glance. "She is much kinder than the head maid at my last place of employment."

"Oh yes, she really is very nice." Eldoris nodded seriously. "Given how much trouble I cause she really should be beating me a lot more!"

"And Simone, she's human?" I surmised. I remembered meeting her the night I arrived at the palace, she was the one who helped me get ready for the ball. It had only been a few days, but that felt like a lifetime ago.

"Naturally," Arenya said. "It would be quite the feat for a nonie to take on such a high ranking position."

"The queen is Ignean though," I argued.

"Indeed, but she gave up her fire," Solana noted. It wasn't the first time I'd heard that but I wasn't quite sure what it meant, or how such a thing was possible.

There was a knock.

I started for the door but Arenya jumped to her feet and set her needlepoint aside. "Let me, Milady!"

"Okay," I sat down awkwardly and allowed the trio to fuss over me.

Solana cleared the leftover fruit off the table, and Arenya placed down a platter of tiny crust-less sandwiches. Eldoris poured fruit juice into a goblet for me, and water into three other goblets.

"Are you really okay with this, Miss?" Eldoris asked, eyeing the sandwiches hungrily.

"Okay with what?"

Her eyes were round and nervous as she bounced in place. "Dining with maids."

"With mermaids," Solana added, also looking nervous.

I'm supposed to be half-mermaid remember? I almost said, but that didn't seem good enough. Then I stopped myself from saying, one of my best friends is a seamstress and a mermaid. Because that wasn't good enough either. It wasn't my place to preach to them, and I felt gross implying I was only comfortable around them because I was 'like them.'

"It's my honor to share a meal with you," I finally said.

Solana seemed close to tears again as the four of us gathered around the tray and helped ourselves to sandwiches.

"...this is lovely and all but tick-tock! You've kept me waiting sooo loooong..." Carlyle said.

I'd nearly forgotten. I swallowed my sandwich and then asked, "have any of you ever had your palms read?"

Three sets of confused green eyes blinked at me.

"I'll take that as a no." I smiled. "Do you know what palm reading is?"

They all shook their heads.

"I can tell you things about yourself and your future just by looking at the lines in your hand." It wasn't true, obviously, but I'd seen it done enough times in movies to know how to fake it. I extended my hand. "Here, Dori, you go first."

Awestruck and practically vibrating with excitement, Eldoris set down her glass and placed her small hand palm-up in mine. "Oh, do tell me I marry the prince!"

"Dori!" Solana gasped.

"Kidding, just kidding." Eldoris snickered, but the blush that tinged her ears made me wonder if that was true.

I cleared my throat and leaned in, pretending to study the lines on her palm intently. "Hmm, I see," I mused, giving a subtle glance in Carlyle's direction.

He took the cue and closed his hand around ours. Eldoris gasped loudly, and then my vision swirled and I was whisked once again into the memory-scape.

"Don't kill me, please don't kill me!" I begged in Cressidan, my throat raw and voice weak. I tugged against the net that dragged me from the waves. The sand was coarse and grating against my skin. My breath came in ragged gasps— I wasn't used to air, having only been to the surface once before this. My eyes flitted in all directions, taking in the silver shell-clad individuals that surrounded me. They looked like statues come to life. "Please let me go!"

"Can you tell what it's saying?" One of the living statues said to another. I could tell from his tone that he was male and his words were a question, but he wasn't speaking Noxian, Siaboran, or the hybrid language that was my mother tongue.

I thrashed my purple-scaled tail against the unpleasant itching and stretching that came with the formation of legs. Where was mother? Where were my sisters?

"Not a clue," another said in that same unfamiliar language. "Do you think Arvan will take her?"

"He's not picky when it comes to test-subjects," a third said, crouching and removing their head-shell. They studied me with curious brown eyes. "But if he doesn't want her, I'll gladly take her."

They reached a finger through the net to stroke my cheek. Fear gripping my heart, I hissed and fanned out my gills. I snapped at their finger with jagged teeth.

They fell back with an exclamation of surprise and the other living statues laughed at them. I hissed again and pulled my newly formed legs close to my chest.

One of the laughing statues spoke again. "Careful, Cressidan's are a bunch of man-eaters. They don't even let males of their own species live."

"How do they reproduce then?"

"They lure in Noxian men, do the dirty, and then eat them. What a way to go, eh?"

I stared intently at their flapping lips, trying to make sense of the syllables coming out. Were they talking about my family? Did the others get away? Were they going to kill me?

"Let me go!" I screamed, trying Noxian this time.

The group flinched.

"Alright, which one of you brave souls took Noxian at the academy?"

I was rocketed back to the real world when Eldoris, shaking, tore her hand from my grasp. She gripped her hand close to her chest and stared at me with hurt-filled eyes, her lip trembling. "What was that?"

With my throat tight I reached for her again, this time to apologize. "Dori, I'm so sor—"

"Don't touch me!" She backed away so quickly she nearly toppled the table.

Arenya wrapped Eldoris in a hug and frowned, looking between us. "I don't understand, what just happened?"

Eldoris pointed a shaking finger at me. "Sh-she did something to me, to my mind."

"...fascinating..." Carlyle murmured. "...We didn't even start out with one of your memories that time, we just went right into hers. It might be worth a second test, but that would be quite convenient if it happens every time..."

I ignored him, focusing all my attention on the relationship I'd just thoroughly destroyed with my maids. "Dori, I'm sorry, let me explain—"

I was cut off by a rapid series of knocks on the door. This time, none of the maids stopped me when I moved to open it. I don't know who I expected to be waiting on the other side, but it wasn't Julian.

"Hello," I greeted. I tried to put a smile on my face, but it was useless.

"Lady Jacintha Carlyle, you are to come with me. The queen wishes to speak with you." He answered. If he noticed my sour mood or the quiet sobbing coming from inside the room, he gave no indication. His tone somehow managed to be colder than usual.

"The queen?" I echoed, my heart thudding.

He nodded once then turned on his heel and started back down the hall.

I glanced behind me. "I'm sorry," I said again. "Stay here as long as you need, but I'll get myself ready for the concert tonight. I won't bother you."

With my heart hammering in my chest and my mind moving a mile a minute, I followed Julian down corridor after corridor to the queen's study. Maybe she just wanted a friendly chat? After all, both her children seemed to be pretty fond of me. It only made sense that she would want to see what I was like.

I had myself mostly calmed down when we reached the study's large wooden door and Julian opened it to allow me in. He didn't come in with us, which surprised me, but it was no bother. Surely the queen had guards of her own. But when I entered the cozy, book-scented room, I found Amaranth and I were only two people inside. That was fine. I wasn't a threat, or rather, I didn't look like one.

The queen stood by the large window flipping through a leather-bound tome. At my arrival, she neatly slipped it back into place on the shelf and leisurely crossed to sit at her desk in the center of the room.

I didn't dare speak.

She took a slow breath, then looked up at me with a neutral expression. Her words were calm and detached, as if she was commenting on the weather or the shade of my dress, but each syllable was a syringe of ice directly to my veins. "So, you're here to kill me, Magdalyn Rose Darrow."