"Since the location marked in the Chrysanthemum district is a restaurant, we can hit the blue dot in Koi first before heading there for midday meal," Minerva suggested. She and Kodak kept to a brisk walk, though he had to shorten his strides for her. Several main roads divided the middle ring like the spokes of a wheel, but for now they kept to the street circling the imperial center until they reached the spoke leading to their destination.

She dodged to the side to let a norimono by. Two men bore its crossbeam on their shoulders with the enclosed box attached between them. Gold lacquer crafted in the form of phoenixes in flight decorated the wood and glinted in the sunlight. A few other robed attendants shuffled behind the transport with their lesser burdens—baskets of cloth and vessels containing sweet-smelling incense.

"A priestess," Minerva muttered. Her nails dug into the palms of her clenched fists while the old rage seethed within her. It took a shake of her head to clear the red seeping into her vision.

"This is a lot more walking than I thought it would be." Kodak mopped his sweaty forehead with his sleeve, leaving a dark blotch on the fabric. He pulled down the thin cloth covering his mouth and nose but started coughing.

"No taking that off outside." Minerva put a hand on his arm and tried to get him to put the filtering material back in place. "The smoke is bad today and your lungs aren't used to it." She squinted up at the sky and the spirals of black that wreathed the fragile wisps of white clouds.

"We can't get a ride like that one?" Kodak rasped, jerking a thumb back at the norimono before it disappeared around a bend.

Minerva prompted him to keep walking. "Only if you want to get baked alive. Those things are stuffy." She never liked them herself. Too vulnerable. If the escort were attacked, the passenger wouldn't know until too late. Sitting in a box like that was as good as handing yourself over trussed up and ready to be tossed into the cook pot. "We're almost there."

A man resting in the shadow of the center's wall held his hand out to them as they passed by. Yet, the gesture held arrogance, as if they owed him a favor and he did not ask for one.

Kodak moved to reach into his breast pocket, but Minerva disguised the motion by looping her hand through his arm. "Look at his fine clothes," she whispered and he had to stoop down to hear her. "His long hair and beard."

"He's not a beggar then?" Kodak asked once they'd moved beyond earshot.

Minerva shrugged her arm from his. Such an act didn't need to be kept up, with the paved roads nearly empty—their usual traffic gathered to watch the arena matches in the Pyrogon. "He's a nobleman fallen on hard times. If it weren't for pride, he could procure an officer's rank in the imperial military but it seems he'd rather beg."

Some of the smoke cleared—carried away by a breeze—letting the golden sun rain down its light on the city. Minerva thought of how she wouldn't be here much longer and the thought was bittersweet.

"You must not be quite as proud as I thought you are, if you're willing to do what he is not," Kodak said.

"What do you mean?" Minerva asked, still half-lost in her musings.

He walked sideways and looked her up and down as if sizing her up for a fight. "Serving in the army instead of living your life as nobility."

"Who told you about that?" she said sharply. "Kaolin? Or ... Brenna?"

Kodak heaved a sigh. "Does it matter? Why do you have to be so secretive? At least I haven't asked what you were doing my first day in the city and why you ran away."

Minerva didn't answer but unless her ears fooled her, a piece of tile from one of the buildings had come loose and dropped to the ground behind them. "Azuki, sweep the roofs. Rising sun side."

"What's in it for me?" Azuki meowed from her shoulder, claws digging in to keep his balance.

"I'll give you fish."

"Say no more." He half-fell, half-floated to the ground before bounding away in the direction she'd named.

"What's that all about?" Kodak asked.

Minerva glanced to the east but she didn't catch the flutter of a cloak or the sound of feet dropping to the street. "Someone might be trailing us." She lengthened her strides. "Better walk faster."

Silence didn't often bother her, but she found herself saying, "I don't mind military life. You know what's expected of you—your purpose and where you fit into the plan. The fare may not be as appetizing, the ground can be hard to sleep on sometimes, and you lose status in being forced to cut your hair but those are all small sacrifices in order to ... belong."

A curious glint sparked in Kodak's eyes. "You've never ... felt like running away from it all? Avoiding all those responsibilities?"

What an uncomfortable line of questioning. "Not if it meant shirking my duty," Minerva answered, frowning. Kodak plucked at a sensitive nerve. She did want to escape, but not from external obligations. The kind of escape she yearned for was from the memories, from the habits she'd built and the person she'd become.

Her past and the pasts of those who influenced her—whether for good or evil—were like wheel ruts carved deep into the skin of the earth. It was easier to walk in the tracks, the scars, yet she knew ...

She knew that ahead of her, Kovine walked the same road and behind, death's shadow loomed.

"You and I are two very different people," Kodak said, breaking into her reverie.

"Different," Minerva agreed. "But in the same ... ship, was it?"

Kodak laughed. "Boat. We're in the same boat." His hand rested lightly on the bone hilt at his waist, though every so often it reached past his shoulder to grasp for something that wasn't there.

They reached their destination. A faded wooden sign reading "Mang's Kirukkanware" hung above the storefront. Wedged between an apothecary and a glassblower's shop, it would have been easy to miss. Even in the noble's ring, crowded, less-reputable environs still formed and Minerva caught sight of a mangy dog slinking into a side alley.

"Looks like the right place," Kodak said.

Paws pressed against Minerva's leg, so she stooped to let Azuki clamber back up onto her shoulder. "Nobody there," the kat reported. His whiskers tickled her cheek.

Shooting a glance back the way they'd come, Minerva dipped a fingertip's breadth into the hollow place.

Nothing.

"We should be clear," she confirmed to Kodak. "Do you want us to keep watch?"

Kodak stomped his feet on the doorstep, though his boots didn't look to have anything on them. "I think it'd be fine if you both came in." He opened the door for her. "After you."

Minerva wanted to scold him for the distinctly Hydro mannerisms, but bit her tongue. The sooner they got off the street, the better.

Instead of a kat's greeting, the cheerful voice of the shop owner welcomed them. In spite of his graying hair and skin wrinkled as a date left out in the sun, Mang possessed the youthful vigor of a man two generations his junior. "Ah, Kozakura!" he exclaimed from behind the front counter. "Welcome back to my humble store!"

Shelves packed the room, lined with kirukkanware in every color and form. Plates, vases, kanzashi, boxes. Any knick-knack your heart desired but each one costing a fortune worth more than twice its weight in gold.

Mang's wide smiled faltered when Kodak entered behind her, but only for a second. "You brought a handsome friend with you, I see! Perhaps you would be interested in a matching set of jewelry. Red string edition is half price today, just for you." He rummaged through a drawer beside him.

"I'm afraid we won't be buying much today," Kodak cut in. He placed his hand on the counter.

Mang's eyes flicked to the ring on the prince's finger. "Is there nothing I could offer to convince you otherwise? I have a beautiful pair of earrings, shaped like raindrops and bright as a sapphire sky."

Minerva noticed the effort he took to not look in her direction. The shopkeeper likely wondered how much she knew and what her exact connection to Kodak would be.

When the Hydro prince smiled, so confident and relaxed, Minerva questioned whether he really needed her there at all. "I would need something darker, no?" he said. "Crimson is a fine color when it's the right piece."

With a satisfied grunt, Mang lifted the counter's divider and ushered Kodak toward the back room. Minerva hesitated even though they motioned for her to follow. The two had exchanged code, but she couldn't be sure of what they'd said. Azuki seemed to agree with her suspicions since he jumped down onto the counter and curled up for a nap.

Mang put her fears to an uneasy rest. "He said you're to be trusted, but don't make me regret it." His brown eyes spoke of worry and the usual good-humored Mang wasn't to be found there. He unlocked the door that would lead to the living quarters above the shop.

Kodak ducked under the curtains and Minerva followed, her eyes adjusting to the dimness. She gripped a knife in her off hand to keep it from shaking and pressed the other to the wall to steady herself. The stairs groaned with gaping spaces between like mouths ready to pull her leg through.

Mang climbed the stairs with an ease that shouldn't have been possible at his age. After unlocking another door with one of the dozens of keys rattling along the metal loop, they entered a neat, well-lighted room.

At first the room looked to be ablaze.

The glaring heat dispersed. Two young women with white hair knelt on the floor with glowing metal in their hands. Kirukists ... but Hydro. No, their eyes shone golden and fire gilded their veins.

Mang shut the door behind them and hastened to make introductions. "My daughters, the Polaran prince and his ..."

"Goei," Minerva provided, naming the role of a professional guide among the guilds.

"Ah, of course." Mang wrung his hands, not seeming to know what else to do with them. "My esteemed guests, these are my daughters—"

"Taura," said the older-looking of the two. She rose and curtsied, to which Kodak returned an elegant bow. Her speech continued in Hydro before she retreated to another room.

"My name is Nanami," the younger sister said softly. Her eyes never left the chunk of kishuki stone in her lap.

"A pleasure to meet you," Kodak answered with a charming smile.

A faint flush crept up Nanami's cheeks and she hid her face in her hands. The next moment, she fled to join her sister.

"She is shy of meeting royalty," Mang explained. "Though Taura will be out with the tea soon. Please take a seat."

Minerva positioned herself in the corner next to Kodak, while Mang pulled the table away from the wall and into the center of the room. He buried the girls' kishuki projects in the coals of the fireplace to keep them warm and urged to Kodak to take a more comfortable cushion than the one he'd sat on ... which looked exactly the same.

Kodak endured the fussing with an enviable amount of grace. "Your daughters are indeed as bright as a sapphire sky," he praised. "But where is their mother?"

Never had a man's face morphed so quickly from pure joy to pure sorrow. "Gone," Mang said.

Minerva watched Kodak's fists clench under the table, but his voice remained calm. "What happened to her?"

"She—her beautiful hair" —Mang struggled for words— "She wanted to dye it, but I refused and ..." Tears swallowed up his ability to speak.

Taura set a tray of tea down and patted her father's shoulder. "It's not your fault. You didn't know," she comforted.

"Your mother," Minerva began, drawing all eyes to her little corner of the room. "She was killed in the marketplace last year, wasn't she?"

She remembered. A sunny day. A woman with white hair like fine ash. Talk of duty and bloodlines. Her screams as they burned her alive.

Mang's sobs turned into screams that blended with the memory. "They murdered her!" He tore at his beard and robes, deaf to Taura's pleading and Nanami's whimpers as she watched from the doorway to the kitchen. "They took my water lily!"

My little blossom.

Something hard in Minerva melted and her fingers found tears flowing down her cheeks. How could I have been so cruel?

"I think you need to leave now," Taura said. She handed a small leather journal to Kodak, though her gaze clung to it as if she were loathe to let it go. "This was Mother's. It should have everything you'd ask for and all that we can provide."

"Thank you." Kodak accepted the book and rose from the table. "Can I not offer you sanctuary? A safe trip home?" At this point, his were the only dry eyes in the room.

Taura shook her head. "This is our home," she said, her tone final as a goodbye. With her attention devoted to her inconsolable father, they took their leave.

Out in the stairway hall, Kodak let out a breath. "Well, that didn't go as planned. My father isn't going to be happy that one of his agents is dead."

Minerva wanted to laugh. He had to be the most compassionate yet callous person she'd ever met. Instead the thought made her cry more, against her efforts to stifle the horrible feeling of guilt like knife wounds in her chest.

"What's wrong?" The compassionate Kodak asked, as if he'd already flipped to the other side of a coin. "Why are you crying?"

"Nothing," Minerva answered, wiping her face with her sleeve. She hurried down the stairs to get away from Mang's howls sounding through the walls.

The string of knots burned a hole in her pocket—the knot belonging to Mang's water lily in particular.

She'd looked on and done nothing when they set the woman on fire.