In the morning I bathed myself—not a minor accomplishment when attended by three genets eager to aid me—and dressed, and by the time I’d finished found breakfast on a tray outside my door. I was starting on the tea when a knock interrupted, and Almond opened the door for Chester, neatly turned out as always. He flinched anew at the sight of me, as if the night apart had convinced him he’d been imagining my appearance, but he said nothing of it and my breath eased out as he continued the evening’s conversation as if we hadn’t broken off at all. “You’re off to see your parents, then?”

“Yes,” I said. “Cloaked, to save me from making a curiosity of myself in the streets.”

Chester made a face. “I’ll have the family carriage brought ‘round. Better you travel unseen completely. If you go on foot... I still think you’ll draw people’s eyes.”

So the shimmer was visible in daylight as well, and in a world that seemed afflicted by a paucity of magic. I had hoped that my experience growing up in Troth absent the evidence of magic indicated that magic was somehow suppressed from normal sight, but apparently not. I sighed. “That would be wise, I suspect. Thank you, Chester.”

“It’s nothing,” he said. “While you’re gone I’ll arrange for Douglas and Du Roi to come by, if that’s well with you? Or would you rather go to Eyre first?”

“No, that’s fine,” I said. “The sooner they can start making arrangements for their absences, if they choose to come, the better.”

“And Ivy?” Chester asked, his tone more delicate.

“Ivy...” I trailed off, then shook my head. “No use putting that off. I’ll call on her in the evening.”

“So that leaves Eyre for tomorrow, and then we’ll have the whole thing sewn up,” Chester said. “The faster we move the better... autumn won’t last long, and we don’t want to travel in winter if we can help it. Particularly since we’ll be heading north.”

I wondered how the drake would find the snow; it seemed a creature born of tropical heat. “No argument there.”

“Then you to your errands and me to mine,” Chester said, satisfied. “I’ll see you in the afternoon.”

He left us all staring after him, into the empty door which seemed rather bereft without his brisk energy to fill it. I should not have been surprised; Chester had been groomed since birth to manage enterprises rather larger than this one, and he’d always seemed energized by the contemplation of a project. It still struck me as surreal: both to see it applied to my own rather outlandish quest, and to no longer feel resentment at someone else’s vitality.

It was Kelu who drew me from those thoughts, and brought to my attention that the others were still peering at the now empty door. “Rather genet-like in his desire to please, your friend.”

“He has rather more initiative than a genet,” I said, perhaps more curtly than I intended, for the image of Chester as a slavishly obedient servant distressed me.

“Point,” Kelu said, unoffended. She stretched, her long tail curling behind her. “So are you taking any of us to see your parents?”

I looked at them all: the two Black Pearls curled up on my bed, fluffy balls of dark glossy fur; Almond, patiently kneeling beside my chair... and Kelu, arms folded in attitude of vague defiance, as usual. “I’m not sure that would be wise. Would it distress you to tarry here until my return?”

“If you wish us to stay, master, we’ll stay,” Almond said, earnest.

“We won’t make trouble,” Seven added.

I looked at Kelu, who shrugged. “I’m used to long periods of idleness. When your life is either torture or boredom, you learn to be grateful for boredom.”

I glanced at Almond, who said nothing for a moment, frowning a little with her gaze fixed on her knees. Then she looked at me and said, “We do tend to be placed in corners when we are not wanted, master.”

“You know I’m not putting you in a corner,” I said, disturbed, and she flowed into my arms, bringing with her that sense of well-being that I’d come to associate with the genets’ touch, and Almond in particular. Even knowing why they inspired that pleasure in me, I could not deny it... did not want to, for that it brought them such joy to grant it to me. Or most of them, anyway, Kelu being the one exception; and I was fond of her for that, also.

“Don’t worry, Master,” Almond said, her assurance echoed by the murmurs of her brethren on the bed. “We won’t make trouble for you.” She brushed her nose against my jaw. “But give Kelu a book, it will keep her occupied.”

I glanced at Kelu. “You can read Lit?”

“A little,” she muttered, ears reddening beneath the silver-inked tattoos on their inner surfaces.

“If it has pictures, we can all enjoy it,” Almond said.

“I’ll send for one,” I said.

In the end, I sent for several, and left the genets with the expectation that they would be entertained in my absence. I presented myself to the carriage driver downstairs, and from there was whisked to the house of my parents. I permitted myself no hesitation, but disembarked the moment we arrived, thanking the driver and asking him to return in an hour.

When the door opened at my knock, I said before I could be asked, “Tell the lady her son is home.”

Still and again, I almost didn’t make it in the door, for I looked rather different than I did. But I convinced the doorman of my bona fides, probably because he was new and did not know enough to disbelieve my claims. He escorted me to the parlor and left me there, wrapped in my cloak, standing beneath the gaze of the portrait over the mantle of the fireplace. I approached it, restless, and looked again at the faces of my family: my parents, ruddy and warm and human... and their wan and sickly orphan, adopted at birth. Even trapped in a human shell I had not looked like them.

There was a paper folded on the mantle, and my mouth grew dry at its familiarity. Unfolding it revealed it to be the curt letter I’d sent my parents on my departure. Ashamed, I propped it back up beneath the portrait and turned from it, to find my mother staring at my back.

I had expected... what? Acrimony? Skepticism? Anger, certainly.

I should not have been surprised that she rushed to me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, crying, and indeed, that I found myself dampening her silvering hair with my own tears.

“Morgan! Oh Morgan!” she said at last, wiping her eyes and stepping back, one hand still on my elbow. “Oh, Morgan, you gave me such a turn!”

“Mother,” I said. “I am sorry. You cannot know how much it pained me to abandon you and Father without a proper leave-taking....”

I trailed off as she looked up into my face, and remained silent as she reached up and pushed the hood back, off my inkspill hair. But unlike Chester, she did not flinch, only cupped my face in both her warm, small hands.

“You are healed, at last,” she said, somber. “Did you discover then what it was that wracked you?”

“I fear... it is rather a long story,” I said, wondering how often I’d be repeating those words. My guess was at least thrice more, once each for my friends, Ivy, and my master professor. “But the short of it is... I... ah... am not precisely human.”

“So I see,” my mother replied. “You have the look of an elf. Is it so, then? The legends are true?”

“You... know? About the elves?” I asked, surprised.

She laughed, soft. “Oh, Morgan. The stories are everywhere, even if people treat them as children’s tales. I read them to you often enough as a babe.” She tugged on my elbow. “Come and sit. And take this thing off so I can look at you as you were meant to be, healthy and whole and well.”

So I set aside my cloak and took tea with my mother, and drank in her easy acceptance of me as if it were greater sustenance than anything we ate or drank, and it was. She found me beautiful, that much was plain... but there was no awe in her. No matter my current estate I was still the weak infant she’d given suck at her breast.

It was perhaps inevitable that I told her some of what had befallen me, and the most difficult parts. And perhaps I revealed to her what it had cost me in a way I could never confide to my friends. But she was my mother, and I could do no less.

“So,” she said at last. “You go to Vigil. When?”

“As soon as I can arrange the expedition,” I said. “But I will be in town some days yet.”

“Alas, that your father is not yet home!” she said. “But he will not return until the holidays.”

I hesitated. “Did you…”

“Tell him?” She smiled a little, sadly. “What did you expect? He would have come home that very moment had he not been in the middle of negotiations he could not mishandle.”

I winced, thinking of the distraction my disappearance must have provided when he was at work for Troth’s interests. “I regret having put him through the distress. And you as well. Mother—”

She shook her head. “Morgan, my dearest. You needn’t. And as for your father, I will write him immediately after you leave and have the message sent by Church courier. They’ll have it to his hands the fastest. Then you need not concern yourself with his distress.”

To say that I would always concern myself with their distress would only win me another gentle deflection, so I didn’t. “Then… so long as we are here… I would appreciate your advice on a matter of some importance to me.”

“Oh?” She considered me, no doubt saw my unease as if I’d written it on paper, as she always had.

“I... would appreciate any suggestions you might tender,” I said at last, “on how I might make amends with Ivy.”

My mother sat back, hands cradling her cup on her lap as she considered me. “Let me see,” she said, presently. “This is the woman to whom you have told nothing, not even that you were ill.”

“That is correct,” I said, rueful.

“Whom you love.”

“Yes.”

“Whom you will now outlive by several centuries,” my mother continued, “and with whom you can have no children.”

“Ah... yes,” I said, crestfallen now. “I know it is hopeless—”

“—tell her the truth,” my mother said, reaching past me to set her teacup on the tray.

“I beg your pardon?” I said, startled.

“Tell her the truth,” my mother said. “She is not the normal sort of girl, Morgan, if you found her in the university.”

“But the immortality...!”

“Which you wish to break, yes?” she said. At my expression, she said, “I won’t deny that it will be difficult for you, but few are the couples who go to their graves without a single hardship to overcome.”

“But the matter of children!”

Unperturbed, my mother said, “You can adopt.” And then essayed one of her rare grins. “It worked very well for your father and myself.”

I stared at her, then gave in and laughed.

She set her hand on my wrist. “Morgan, if you love her... if she loves you... why not?”

“There are so many reasons,” I said, rueful.

“And none of them important,” she said. “You’ll see. Give her the chance. Tell her the truth.”

“When I asked for advice I was expecting more on the lines of whether I should bring flowers,” I admitted.

“Do that too,” my mother said.

It was in a much better temperament then that I departed my parents’ home and returned to Chester’s. He was still occupied with whatever errand had taken him away, but in his absence the servants treated me like a guest and I found my way without incident to my room, where indeed Kelu was still looking at pictures in books. I caught her with her finger under a word, whispering broken sounds beneath her breath.

“Master!” Almond said. “It went well?”

“It went well,” I said, leaving off my cloak and gathering her and the Black Pearls into my arms. “Better than I’d hoped. I have a little time before the arrival of Radburn and Guy. If you give me a moment to compose a card, we can have a walk?”

“Ooh!” Almond exclaimed. “Can we?”

“Chester has a courtyard with a garden,” I said. I thought of the flowers my mother had suggested bringing Ivy. “No one will see but the servants.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful!” Almond exclaimed, the Pearls hovering behind her.

“Very good,” I said. “Let me attend my correspondence.”

The desk in the corner had paper and envelopes and ink, and there I stared at a fresh page and wondered exactly how to word my invitation to Ivy. To present myself at the house where she boarded would be…inappropriate, particularly since I wasn’t sure if her boarder allowed her to take gentlemen callers. Too, the thought of having witnesses—more witnesses—to my transformation was uncomfortable.

There was a place she would remember very well, though. And it would give me an opportunity to make a proper apology. I wrote, sealed the resulting request, and dropped it on the plate for outgoing mail outside my room. “There. Shall we?” As the genets lined up eagerly at the door, I glanced over at Kelu. “Coming?”

Kelu shut the book and stood. “It would be nice not to be cooped in here.”

It was for the best that the genets were accustomed to the luxuries of elven aristocrats, for it meant they were unsurprised by the size of Chester’s home, and made no complaint when we wound down what felt like endless halls and stairs. Even the Pearls, who’d spent most of their lives in cages, had apparently been paraded in Suleris’s estate often enough to be indifferent to the embroidered carpets, extensive molding edging the doors and ceilings, the chandeliers that seemed impossibly heavy to be held up by such dainty chains. The gardens, when we achieved them, were no less lavish. Even in autumn, they were green, and normally I would not have had the first notion how such a thing was achieved, save that the moment I stepped foot in them the soil seemed to ease up into my bones through my heels. I stopped, inhaled sharply, knew that winter would be early... and also that these greening plants had been newly seated in the earth. I glanced at them, frowning.

“Master?” Almond asked, tentative. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” I said. “Am I listing to one side?”

She and the Pearls flipped their ears back. Only Kelu remained impassive, wearing her customary shuttered expression. “No, Master,” Almond said in the more cautious tone of one addressing a possible madman.

“And I am not twitching or falling or having a seizure,” I continued.

A more firm reply then. “No.”

“Then perhaps I am growing accustomed to this prince’s magic,” I said. “Because I am completely certain those plants were not there a few weeks ago.”

One of the Pearls pricked up her ears. Seven, I thought. “Master?” she asked. “May I check?”

“Yes,” I say. “Stay close, though. I wouldn’t want one of Chester’s men to mistake you for vermin and try to trap you.”

Almond shuddered. “Oh, Master... would they?”

I set a hand on her head and ruffled her hair with my thumb, eliciting a more pleased shiver. “I wouldn’t want to find out.”

“I wouldn’t either!”

“Touching,” Kelu said, rolling her eyes. “Can we take the walk now?”

So we did, with the Pearls slipping like shadows beneath the trees and shrubs, investigating patches of darkness and interesting scents. They confirmed that many of the trees were new, reporting evidence of earth that smelled differently around the roots. I wasn’t certain what surprised me more: that they’d brought me evidence of the truth of my guesses...or that I didn’t need that evidence to know that I was right. For someone who had been certain of very little in his life—save that most of it was constructed by the human need to make sense of a senseless universe—to discover this utter certitude was...

Well. It was disconcerting. And yet the elves had brought it with them, with their cruelties and horrors and yes, their senselessness. They’d also brought mercy, and high honor, and the unexpectedness of family found in far places.

I still hurt about Amhric.

The air filled with the sound of bells, sonorous and shivering with deep harmonies. All of the genets halted as if frozen, ears straining.

“What... what is that?” Nine asked.

“Those are church bells.” At their blank expressions, I said, “Church. It’s where humans go to....”

To what? In the past I would have said, ‘To share in the mutual story of their religion,’ with all the vast arrogance of my youth and education in folklore. Chester’s and Ivy’s faith I’d considered an eccentricity for which they should be indulged. I had been so sure that angels and gods and miracles were myths.

“Humans worship God, as the elves used to,” I said instead. “And they have a story about a saint and the angel that came to her long ago. Church is where we go to hear that story.”

“Is it a story, like the one you told us about the mother who went to the witch to have a baby?” Nine wondered. “Or is it something that really happened?”

“It must be true if it has angels,” Almond said. “Angels are real.” She turned hopeful eyes to me. “What is a church like? Do angels go there?”

“No—” I stopped. “At least, not that I know of. A church is a building, usually with stained glass windows, and lace stonework, and an altar....and there’s usually incense. And music, when people gather for services.” Anticipating the next question, I finished, “The services involve retelling the story of the saint and the angel, and the saints that came after her. Usually there is a cup everyone shares, to symbolize our devotion to her aims, which involve upholding the principles of the Divine: to be good, to be true, to be honest, to cleave to righteousness.”

“Trust humans to make everything more complicated than it needs to be,” Kelu said. “Fancy buildings, long rituals. Just do the right things and don’t talk about it.”

“That would be sensible advice if it worked.” I resumed strolling, and the genets followed: my own furry entourage. “Unfortunately, most people require a great deal of reminding to do the right thing. It’s too easy to do the easy thing.”

“One of the few sensible things you’ve said since I’ve met you,” Kelu said.

“I would like to see a church,” Almond said, and her fascination with the idea must have been severe for her to miss an opportunity to remonstrate Kelu for her impertinence. “And go to a service and hear the story of the saint and the angel. I love angel stories.”

She was not making a request; being Almond, she would never, it not being in her nature to importune me for the fulfillment of even her most desperate needs. But her yearning was so clear, and her expectation of never fulfilling it so obvious, that I could not resist saying, “I am sure there is some way I could bring you to one.”

“Master?” Almond stopped, stunned. “Oh, no, you mustn’t! It would be too dangerous!”

“If I can light from the safety of Chester’s home to see to my friends, my family, and the remains of my educational progress, then I can certainly do so to take you to Church. If not for a service, then at least to see the building.” I thought of the Cathedral and its carvings, tapestries, paintings, windows. “It is worth the sight.”

“Perhaps the angel will protect you,” Seven offered.

Almond flicked her ears back, given pause. Then, flushing along their insides, she said to me, “I couldn’t, Master. To put you in danger! For my whim!”

I shook my head. “It’s not whim. And I should go myself. God knows I have enough to discuss with the Divine. A moment to confess myself of my myriad sins and uncertainties would not be detrimental to my spirit.”

She could not argue with that reason, and I saw acceptance soften the tension in her shoulders, ease the tremor in her ears and tail. She smiled at me, shy as a tender new flower. “I would like to see a place where humans worship angels.”

“Then we’ll go,” I said. Glancing at the house. “But after I have done with Guy and Radburn, who should be along soon. Let’s finish our turn in the gardens and go back in, before we’re seen.” I paused. My mission to find Ivy a flower occurred to me, and with rue I surveyed the grounds. A flower… in autumn. Naturally. I’d been too long among the elves, expecting tropical blooms everywhere. “Where has Nine gone?”

Seven glanced into the ornamental shrubs. “She’s hunting. Shall I fetch her, Master?”

“Please.”

Kelu, at my side, said, “I didn’t think they’d have that much initiative.”

“We’re all different,” Almond murmured. “Some of us are pleasing for our obedience, and others, for our utility.”

I glanced at her. “You can’t mean to say the elves bred some of the genets to be the magical equivalent of hunting cats!”

Her ears flattened. “Oh, no, Master! That would make them dangerous. But some elves like their genets more like animals, and some more like people.”

Before Kelu could opine, I said, “Don’t, please. You needn’t say it.”

Kelu contented herself with a snort.

The Black Pearls returned…and they were not empty-handed. Nine had a little twist of pine needles in her palm. “Look, Master,” she said. “I found a star. It smells nice.”

It did in fact look like a four-pointed star, and the fragrance seemed to open the passages in my nose, brought me the memory of winters I had been incapable of enjoying because of my condition. The thought that I could now was astonishing. “It’s lovely,” I told her. “Why don’t you keep it?”

Both Pearls stared at me at that, but I waited through their surprise.

“Master?” Nine asked, eyes wide. “But I brought it because I thought you would like it….”

“And I do,” I said. “And I want you to keep it. If you like it? It smells good; I imagine your noses are even better than mine.” I frowned. “Unless elven noses are somehow better than human noses.”

“Neither of them are as good as ours,” Kelu said.

“It does smell like good things,” Nine admitted. “It makes me think of gardens.”

“Then keep it.”

Nine looked down at the star and petted it. Quietly, she said, “I’ve never been allowed to have anything before. Do you really mean that I could have this? That… I can decide what to do with it?”

“That’s exactly what I mean,” I answered, watching her face. Her ears were trembling with tension—not distress, I thought, but with the ferocity of the new thoughts she entertained.

“But… what would I do with it?” Nine wondered. “I don’t… where… I’d have to find a place to keep it?”

“You would,” I agreed. “You might string it on a cord around your neck, perhaps. Or pin it to a cloak or shirt, if you wished to wear one.”

“Clothes!” Seven exclaimed, wrinkling her nose.

“Clothes do seem like trouble,” Nine murmured, though she didn’t sound as opposed to the idea as her twin. She ran a claw along one of the tiny green needles. “The cord idea… I like that. But I don’t have that. I don’t have anything!”

“I shall find you a cord and help you with the stringing,” I said. “And then you will have both a pine frond and a cord.”

“A necklace,” Almond said. “You’ll have a necklace.”

“A necklace.” Nine sounded stunned. “Like the collars, but that I picked for myself.”

I held my breath.

“I think I would like a… a necklace,” Nine said to me. “If you will help me, Master.”

“When we get back in,” I promised.

Thankfully, Kelu did not interrupt any of this; I chanced a look at her and saw only her habitual frown. But she did not seem inclined to speak, and I was grateful.

Seven presented herself then and said, “This is what I found, Master.” She extended her offering: it was one, small, pale flower. I had no idea what sort it was, save that it was cream-colored with tips of a blue so pale it looked streaked in ice. It smelled like the memory of spring, attenuated by winter.

“Oh,” I said, stunned. “How in the world did you find a flower in autumn, Seven?”

“I don’t know?” she said. “I just thought, while looking for Nine, that I should go down that path—” She pointed. “Because I might see something there, as well as Nine, and Nine was there and so was that…” She studied my face, eyes narrowed in concentration. “Did I do well?”

“This is extraordinary,” I admitted. “I was thinking I had need of a flower.” At Almond and Kelu’s looks, I said, “To placate Ivy. A woman of my acquaintance.”

“I think that’s a perfect flower,” Almond said to Seven. “Exactly what the Master needed.”

Seven wrinkled her nose, then nodded and said, “Then you have to accept this one, Master. I don’t want to keep it if you need it.”

I bowed, startling them all. “Then I shall. Thank you.” Glancing toward the house, I added, “And now we really must go in, if I want time to check on Last and the others before Guy and Radburn arrive. Plus, we must make Nine’s necklace.”

“My necklace!” Nine murmured again, ears pricked.

None of the genets asked me about my generosity; the Black Pearls no doubt thought me eccentric (or unbelievable), given what little they knew of me, and Kelu and Almond, who had had my acquaintance for longer, wouldn’t. The former because she was forced to view any such gifts with skepticism, and the latter because Almond already believed the best of me, and needed no confirmation of my goodness.

To be truthful, I wasn’t sure why I needed religion with Almond at my side. Living up to her expectations was more than enough impetus to emulate a saint.

The elves were content enough in the rooms they’d been assigned. “Not much different than living in e Sadar’s halls,” Last told me as I walked through the rooms, and I imagined that of all the elven lords available, Kemses’s estate would indeed have been the most reminiscent; where else would humans have walked unfettered and unmarred by the use of their masters?

“We won’t tarry long,” I promised him, and the others. “I am organizing our expedition now. A few days, perhaps.”

“Of course, Lord Locke,” Last said, but something about the response led me to believe he thought that promise optimistic. Perhaps it was, but I couldn’t conceive of staying long enough for winter to trap us in the capital. There would be no keeping our existence secret in that case, and the thought of becoming entangled in the inevitable political turmoil once it became commonly known that there was another sentient species in the world... we would still be navigating that mess when the demons came.

I returned to my room to find my request for a length of cord had been fulfilled, and had only begun to make suggestions to Nine on how to use it when Chester knocked for entrance. This time he managed not to flinch at my appearance at all, though he accomplished this feat by glancing at my boots first and only then making his way up to my face. I suppose that gave him time to acclimate to the elven gleam before confronting it somewhere significant. “Ah! You’re back. I had a moment of worry when I didn’t find you earlier, that you’d vanished into some myth.”

“An existence spent in a library doesn’t sound unappealing,” I replied.

“Maybe I should have escorted Du Roi and Douglas there, then.” He grinned. “I’m afraid they’re in my study, however. Shall we? And do your attendants wish to come?” He glanced at Kelu and Almond and the Pearls, and even Kelu was taken aback to be included from the bristle of her tail.

“No, I think one surprise at a time is enough.” I glanced at the genets, paused.

“Don’t worry, Master,” Almond said. “We will all work on the necklace. I’m sure we’ll have it figured out before you return.”

Nine was already puzzling at the cord and her little sprig of evergreen, Seven bent close, nose twitching. Kelu was ignoring everyone, having returned to the study of the book we’d left behind. I smiled at Almond. “I’ll be back soon, then.” To Chester, I said, “Let’s go, before I lose my nerve.”

“After all that you’ve done, it seems implausible that you might find the prospect of confronting two of your former classmates unnerving.”

I snorted. “The elves could only stick swords in me. Radburn is likely to deliver a painful upbraiding, designed to induce the maximum amount of guilt. Tell me which you find more difficult.”

“Radburn’s lectures I can handle,” Chester said. “It’s Guy’s that appall me.” And then he was pushing open the study door and my friends were rising, expectations plain on their faces, one pale beneath the mop of red curls, the other dark olive beneath bronze waves. I was in a good position to watch their reactions and suppressed my sigh. After this, only two more such meetings: my professor, and Ivy. Then I could dispense with the distress of watching people I cared for rearrange their entire conception of me on sight.

Behind me, Chester shut the door, a soft click that seemed to echo into the silence. Until at last, Guy said, “What in Hell?”

Chester said, “Du Roi, really.”

“No, no, I’m forced to agree,” Radburn said, hoarse. Guy’s stare was confused and pugnacious, as I’d expected. Radburn’s… I couldn’t quantify at all, only that his green eyes looked lost. “We knew you were sick, Morgan. Did you… did you make some pact with a warlock?”

Not far from the truth, at that, but—“I’m afraid my illness was not illness, but ensorcelment. I was born another species entirely, and enchanted to look human.”

Guy started laughing. “Only you, Morgan. Study fairy stories and then go find one to insert yourself into.”

I folded my arms. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t insert myself into this one. Someone else did the insertion.”

“Who was that?” Chester asked suddenly, interested. He brought a bottle of sherry from the sideboard. “Who brought you here? Your mother, I imagine. Your elven mother, I mean. Where do you suppose she’s gone? She must still be alive, given that the elves can no longer die….”

Radburn held up his hands. “Stop! This can’t be supported. It’s preposterous! An elven mother? Another species! Ridiculous!”

“Oh, for the love of God,” Guy said, exasperated. “Look at him, Radburn. The evidence is right in front of you. Use your eyes.” He waved Chester and his bottle over, sat with a glass of sherry, and put his feet up on the low table. “I for one think him far more palatable now that he’s no longer a fainting maiden.”

I wasn’t sure whether to find the characterization offensive or humorous. “A fainting maiden! Please tell me you didn’t think that way of me previously—”

“Of course I did,” Guy said. At my expression, he laughed. “Oh, give over, Morgan. It was better than me calling you a poppyhead, which was the other contender.”

“Ah, yes. I’ll take ‘useless invalid’ over ‘pupil-drowned addict’ any day.” I sat across from him, beside Chester, which left only Radburn standing. We all looked up at him.

“You cannot seriously expect me to assimilate this just… just like that!”

“Why not?” Chester asked, amused. “Du Roi did.”

And Guy had, I realized…or if he hadn’t, he wasn’t interested in showing me his discomfort with the abrupt reordering of his world. I found myself grateful for his nonchalance. To have at least one of my friends accept me as the Morgan Locke who’d left without hesitation was a balm I hadn’t realized I’d still been waiting for. Chester would stand by me until the day he died… on that I had no fear. But the man reared on stories of saints and angelic visitations still couldn’t quite fit me into the world without some of that divine luster clinging to my arrival. Guy, though, was no believer, and could stare at me without awe. Was in fact doing so now, with that twitch of the mouth that had been common of him when we were teasing someone. He quirked a brow and I laughed, and even my sea-and-distant-bellsong laugh didn’t change his expression.

“Oh, do sit,” Chester said. “Have the sherry. You’re acting as if this is a personal affront, Douglas, and it’s ridiculous. Locke’s here, he’s no longer in danger of dying precipitously, and in fact he has a rather exciting adventure to advance to us. I’d call that a good day.”

“I like adventure,” Guy drawled. “Let’s hear about the adventure.”

“If Radburn will join us?” I eyed him.

“You’re not human,” he said to me, plaintive, as if I’d done something to him. And perhaps I had. Perhaps I’d destroyed a world where he was certain of his premises and the fundamentals needed no re-examination.

If so, perhaps he was due. We were scholars. To question the fundamentals was our duty.

“I’m not human,” I agreed. “Trust me, as shocking as you find the revelation, it was rather more so for me.”

Guy guffawed. I ignored him to hold Radburn’s eyes, or try. He met them for a heartbeat and then dropped them.

“Sit,” Chester said again, and this time he did, and accepted the sherry.

“So, adventure,” Guy said. “Say on.”

I told them a précis of my sojourn, leaving out the more personal parts of it; there were things I was willing to divulge to Chester that I could not speak to Guy’s facile grin and Radburn’s long face. I explained my intent to journey to Vigil, and what I hoped to find there. I made my invitations. And then I leaned back and waited.

“So can you do magic at all?” Guy mused, curious.

“Magic,” Radburn muttered. “Ridiculous.”

“Not as such, no. That being one of the reasons we need to make the trip,” I said. “But I have some… abilities, I suppose I can call them.”

“Such as?”

I lifted my head, closing my eyes. “I can tell you when it will rain. And that the earth is moving under our feet. That winter will come early.”

“Like some sort of village weather witch,” Guy said, dryly.

“And the plants in Chester’s garden were recently transplanted.”

“I beg your pardon!” Chester said, rousing himself. “How astonishing! My plants? How did you know? Did you look?”

“It’s called the worldsense. I don’t have complete command of it, but it represents my link with the land.”

“Interesting,” Guy murmured. “Knowledge is always useful. Anything else?”

I cocked my head. “Not much. Though if you’ll lend me your knife?”

Chester and Radburn both glanced at me sharply. Guy, though, simply pulled his from his boot and handed it over, as I knew he would. Before the other two could object, I dragged it over the back of my hand, ignoring the sharp, bright ache of flesh parting. Radburn gasped and Chester stiffened at the sight of my blood welling through the rent.

Guy leaned over, curious. He watched the skin seal and nodded. “Now that is a handy talent. When you said elves couldn’t be killed I thought it hyperbole. How big a cut can you survive?”

“I have seen a liegeman pack his own intestines back into his abdomen, still streaked with dust and blood, while fighting a duel.”

“Gruesome!” Guy exclaimed with obvious approval.

“A liegeman,” Chester murmured.

I glanced at him.

“You have liegemen?” Radburn asked. He sounded hurt, still, somehow. Bewildered.

“I am a prince,” I said, wry.

“And you believe it,” Radburn said, meeting my eyes. “You have bought this in its entirety. That you might appear to these people out of nowhere, years after your birth, and be accepted as royalty.”

“It’s not a matter of them accepting it.” I flexed the hand and made a fist, showing him the unmarred surface of its back. “Whether they want a king or prince is one matter. But it is the magic that proclaims the king and prince, Radburn. The abilities I was apparently born with suit me to a role that few others in their society can play. Shall I deny reality?” I grimaced. “Trust me, I spent quite a few months making the attempt and failing. Such denials bring a great deal of pain.” When he didn’t respond, I swiped a finger through the blood that remained on my skin and said, “This will feed a magical construct. It can create races of magical creatures. Spilled with intent, it summons angels, kills the walking dead. What more must I do to make it clear to you? I didn’t choose to be other than human; God knows I didn’t. But this is what I have to work with, and I will work with it, because the consequences if I don’t are simply not supportable.”

Silence.

“So,” Guy drawled. “When are we leaving?”

“As soon as possible,” Chester told him. “I have a wedding to put off.”

“And we all know that’s your foremost priority.” Guy grinned and pushed his glass across the table. “Top me off, eh? And redo Morgan over there. A man who’s just cut himself open at very least deserves a little tipple.”

I snorted, but didn’t object when Chester refilled my glass.

“Well?” Guy said to Radburn. “Done sulking?”

“You can’t miss the trip to Vigil,” Chester agreed. “Say you’ll come.”

“Of course I’ll come,” Radburn said. “But I can’t say I’m happy about the whole matter.”

“We have plans to make, then,” Chester said.

“We do,” I agreed. “And I may have to ask you to begin them without me. If I don’t leave now, I’ll be late to my next engagement.”

“Your next engagement!” Radburn exclaimed.

“What’s this now?” Chester asked, curious.

“Ivy,” I said, rueful.

Guy laughed. “Hellfire, I don’t envy you that task. Good luck.”

“I’ll need it, most probably.”

I left them in good spirits, for the most part; Radburn remained subdued, and I wondered if that would be trouble. I had thought my friends would be surprised, certainly. But distressed? What had I missed there?

The genets were awaiting me in my room, with the flower and a surprise. “The servants brought it up,” Kelu said as I opened the small trunk. The smell of lavender filled my nose, brought with it the eruption of memory: my old flat, Cliffton’s visits, holidays at home in my childhood bedroom.

“What is it?” Almond asked, peering past my hip.

“Clothes,” I said. “From my life before.” I checked the note that had come with it: my mother, of course.

“Oh, Master! You must dress in them, surely,” Almond said. “To look your best for the Lady Ivy.”

“You remembered her name,” I said, bemused.

“You mentioned her.” Kelu lifted a shirt and shook it out, curious. “Of course she remembered. These look clean. I don’t know if they’ll fit you anymore.”

“They’ll fit,” I said.

They did...but barely. My old physique had tended toward the underfed, the ill-nourished, and the under-utilized. My new body had the flexibility and health of immortality. I had done nothing to earn the febrile poet looks I’d sported before my transformation, and I’d done nothing to earn the fairy perfection I wore now, and it struck me as unfair that my current estate seemed more natural to me than my human shell. Radburn’s dismay chafed still. My brother’s absence did as well, for he would have comforted me with his tranquility. What would Ivy think of all this? Would she be upset? Or would she accept me as my mother had, or Guy?

I found I did not want her to accept me the way Guy had. Or my mother. I wanted more from her, and I had come to that realization now, when it was probably too late.

“Pants,” Kelu said, interrupting my thoughts. I took them from her, chagrined, and finished my toilette. I was accepting my cloak from Seven when a knock on the door distracted us all. At my nod, Nine opened it to reveal Chester.

“Just checking to see if you need anything,” he began, then stopped at the sight of me. “Well, that’s better. Though you’ll need those tailored soon enough. Leave them with me, I’ll have someone run them down to mine—do you still have a winter coat? Oh, right, the cloak is a wiser idea anyway. Your head...” He trailed off and chuckled. “You’ve always had poncy hair, Locke. I’m afraid changing species has only made it poncier.”

“Poncy!” I exclaimed.

He grinned. “I’m sorry. Du Roi has infected me.”

“Have they left then?” I said, slinging the cloak on and clasping it closed.

“No, they’re still talking in the study. Du Roi asked for a moment with Douglas, said he wanted to see if he could whip him out of his snit. I thought you might need the coach and came up to ask.”

I had thought... well. To walk, strangely, but it was a long walk to the university. And my other instinct, to take the drake, would surely see me arrested for possession of a dangerous beast in a city. “Yes, that would be wise, I think.” I sighed. “Aside from the coiffure, am I presentable? For a man without a tailor.”

Chester chuckled. “Yes. For a man without a tailor. Do elven princes not have them?”

“Elven princes wear billowing pants and, if you’re lucky, a decorative scarf made of gossamer. It’s not the sort of garb that invites tailoring.”

Startled, Chester said, “Well, no, I imagine not. There being very little clothing involved.”

I grinned at him and pulled the hood up. “The climate is rather more warm.”

“It had better be! I’ll call for the carriage.”

“Thank you.”

After he’d gone, Kelu said, “He really is like a human genet.”

“Hush,” I said, accepting the flower from Seven and smiling at Nine, who was standing behind her with the cord around her neck. The little sprig of evergreen was lost against her dark fur, but she smelled of it.

“Poncy,” Almond murmured. “That’s not a kind word, is it?”

“He meant it in a friendly way,” I said. “Friends are at liberty to say things that might seem offensive when said by a stranger.”

“It means effeminate,” Kelu told Almond.

The smaller genet’s ears sagged. “Is there something wrong with being like a female?”

“There is if you’re male.” Kelu eyed me. “Not that we would know, since there aren’t any male genets.”

“Male genets are ugly,” Nine murmured.

“Would be ugly,” Seven corrected. “If there were any.”

“That’s what the elves said.”

“The elves,” I said firmly, “were wrong about many things.” I ran my hand over Almond’s hair and gathered her and the two Pearls. “Be good in my absence, then. You also, Kelu.”

Kelu wrinkled her nose. “As if I have much chance to be bad.”

“Still. Stay on the side of the angels.”

“Always!” Almond said.