The silence reigns long enough that eventually, I pull myself out from under the bed. Hopefully no one's still after me, and I'll be able to sneak back to my room. My skin tingles at the thought of going back out there, and I can't decide if it's adrenaline wearing off or Vihnzeirre getting ready to do something. I don't trust you, little trickster.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, focusing on home like Aster taught me. It helps some, but the idea of sneaking out still sets my stomach aflutter. A pack of wolves in pretty dresses might be waiting for me.

Steeling my nerve, I cross his living room to open the front door. The doorknob only rattles when I twist it, though, and a quiet groan escapes my lips. Of course. The Captain locked it when he left. I'm stuck here until Aster—or someone else—comes back.

Afraid of betraying my presence by lighting a candle and not wanting to sit in the open in case someone returns, I go back to Aster's room. I open the curtains, letting the moonlight brighten the area. There's an armchair in the corner, and I settle in it, studying the rug. I can get under the bed quickly enough from here.

In the center of the rug, a woman wearing a dress of white feathers tips her head back, balls of light floating above her palms. Behind her, figures rise from a crevassed sphere of silver metal. Shock floods me; I've seen her all over the castle and never realized before. She's the carving I prick myself on to make water run, the statues on the castle grounds, the tiny figure in tapestry after tapestry—their Lady Jacqueline, replicated over and over again. The way they picture her, glowing, beautiful, and serene, reminds me of the gods my people used to worship back when we were ignorant and had barely moved underground. We learned better, though.

Then again, we also learned that magic wasn't real. I continue studying her face—I swear she holds some secret in that peaceful, self-assured pose. "Just how much of your story is fiction?" I murmur.

This far in the future, there is no way to know.

The fire is out, and sitting still with no blanket, I'm even colder in Aster's room than in mine. Emboldened by the silence and the cold, I slip off the chair and wander through his room. There's something strange about thinking this might have been where he grew up—this might have been the desk he did his homework on, that might have been the bed his parents tucked him into. All of his life could have happened here. The idea warms me.

After a few minutes of surveying, careful not to touch anything, I curl back up in the chair and wait. Skies know how long later, a soft click startles me out of my meandering thoughts. I grip the arm of the chair, ready to dive under the bed, but it's silent. I strain my ears for footfalls and hear nothing at all. That couldn't have been the lock I heard, then, unless ghosts unlock—

The bedroom door swings open, and too late, I shoot to my feet.

Aster calls, "Et væ!" A small knife flies through the air, tip hovering in front of my throat. I freeze, shocked.

"Who are you?" he demands, voice harsh.

I try to step back, but my legs run into the chair. The knife wavers closer.

"Who are you?" he threatens again slowly.

"It—it's just me," I stammer. "It's Leavi."

The knife drops back a bit, almost as if still suspicious and uncertain. A second later, it flies back into his hand, and he tucks it into his cloak. I release a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

"Why are you here?" His voice is dark and offers little compassion.

"I wasn't trying to intrude." I raise my hands placatingly. "My magic sent me to a Lady's room in Courtier's Circle. I was running away from them."

His brow furrows. "What do you mean? It teleported you?"

I nod. "It happens sometimes." The casualness with which the words come sounds strange even to me.

He just stares at me, face hard. "Why not go back to the infirmary?"

His accusatory tone catches me off guard. "They were looking for me. I just—I got turned around, and then someone was coming out of the other room, and the magic moved me in here."

"If your magic is so good at moving you around, why haven't you left yet?"

Angry, my lips purse. You know why. "You'll have to ask it. It's not very good at taking directions."

His face tightens, but he doesn't speak. Finally, he moves around me, toward the curtains I adjusted earlier. "You should go."

Dark spots on his shirt catch my eye, and I step to intercept him. "What happened?"

"Nothing." He fixes the curtains, leaving a slit to shine on the bed.

"Blood on your shirt isn't nothing."

He spins. "You shouldn't be here. Someone could hear us talking. I'm fine. Go."

"Then I'll be quiet," I whisper. "Has someone seen to you?"

"I'm not injured," he hisses.

His contempt for my concern stings, but I nod lightly. "Good."

He watches me silently for a moment, then says, "There's a servant's flight you can take to get downstairs. No one should see you."

It's strange how concerned he was yesterday and how brusque he is tonight. I'm still not sure if the Ladies saw my face. But even if they did, that's not his problem.

I simply listen to his directions and thank him.

He leads me to the door and unlocks it but pauses with it closed. He glances back at me. "Be careful."

My eyes drift over his form, details mostly hidden by the dark, but I still see his tense shoulders, his too-straight back. "You too."

He opens the door, and I slip out. The halls are quiet again, the glow crystals casting a fairy light on the stones. Their whispers follow me down the corridor, and my shadow wavers on the wall behind me. I feel like an intruder, and I look like one too, skulking about in the same foreign clothes they first captured me in.

I pause at the end of the Aster's hall, listening closely. The room I disturbed couldn't have been in the next corridor, but there's no way to know whether the gathered Ladies returned to their own rooms—or are on their way to.

Nothing is louder than the glow crystals. I hope that means no one's awake and not that the crystals are louder than the Ladies.

I turn the corner. No one's there. I try not to be too relieved. I still have three halls to go. I sprint the next two on cat's feet, listen at the corner, then turn onto the final one.

A little girl stands in the middle of the hall.

I freeze, staring at her, but she faces away, little gold ringlets rolling down her back. Her lacy white nightgown brushes the floor, swaying as she walks. Six at the oldest, she's the first child I've seen in the castle.

What happens to her if the Kadranians win?

She stumbles another little step forward. A few paces behind her, a door hangs open.

She's a sleepwalker.

I could easily sneak around her and into the servant's passage Aster told me about. Out of sight, safe. But my conscience cramps at the thought of just leaving her out here. This isn't her parent's house where they might wake up to find her inexplicably on the living room sofa. This is a stone labyrinth where they might wake to find her at the bottom of a flight of stairs.

I glance over my shoulder, sneak up to the open door, and peer inside. The room is dark and silent except for soft breathing. Her parents are asleep.

Hopefully they'll stay that way.

I tiptoe to her and lightly take her shoulders. She doesn't seem to notice, placing another wavering foot forward. Before it lands, I twist her in one smooth motion. She hums, a soft, innocent noise, and sets her foot down. I guide her as she walks. Five steps left, three, one—

She reenters her room, and I pull the door shut behind her. Sweet dreams, little girl.

Relieved and itching to be out of this hall, I hurry away. As I turn the corner, the lights shift from the soft white of crystals to the harsh shadows of far-spaced torches. The hall here is narrower, and I grin. Made it.

No Ladies should run into me in the servant's halls.

I follow Aster's directions until I get to a set of rickety wooden stairs. I step toward their edge, wincing when they still squeak. Eschewing secrecy for speed, I rush down to the second floor. It's dark, and my bracelet emits just enough light to make me think I'm seeing things I'm not. Keeping a steadying hand on the wall, I walk forward. I've known for a long time how to trust other senses than my eyes.

I'll make it home safe tonight. Just like Aster. Just like the little girl. We can make it.

I know we can.