My eyes shot open, the feeling of rough wood as the carriage hit a rock. My head lifted up just a little before smming back down.

  The sp of pain helped dispel that hazy sleepy feeling as I woke up. A relief from that though.

  I jolted from one side to the next, barely avoiding hitting my head again as I scrambled across the seat before realizing I was far away from that damned old hideout underground.

  I’d fallen asleep on my side, curled up on the carriage bench. Numbly, I forced myself to sit up as the carriage rattled along, Tagashin exchanging pleasantries with another passing carriage driver. For some reason, the Kitsune had abandoned the insane pace she’d taken just a short while ago.

  I sat in the back of the carriage for a while, eyes unfocused, breathing heavily. Ragged gasps of air slowed as I cwed back control of myself one second at a time.

  More memories had come to haunt my dreams the moment I fell asleep. I’d be tempted to bme a curse, but the truth was, with everything happening recently? Versalicci intruding on my life again, Melissa’s cims….it only figured that these memories would be dredged up. Only now my mind stitched together unreted ones. My st conversation with my only siblings besides Versalicci had happened weeks after I’d crawled in and sulked in Versalicci’s war room, trying to drown myself in wine.

  Not long after that, I’d faked my death, only a couple of months before the rest of the Fme were squished like an insect by the Imperial Military,

  Or so I’d assumed in my little hidey-hole, working on changing myself, Arsene, and Tolman into our new identities one painful, bone-shifting, tendon-ripping day at a time. Even there, I hadn’t brought up that overheard conversation with those two. Why should I? Versalicci was dead, buried along with the rest of the Fme forever when the ir had colpsed, sent plummeting miles underground, and then smashed ft by the Archmage Galwaid’s efforts, the geomancer showing the same might that had made him the Hero of the wars with the dwarven kingdoms.

  For the first two years, I’d ignored that memory. He’d been dead in my mind. Killed by the same forces that had paid him to betray us. That’s what I thought when there was not so much as a whisper of the Fme for a year afterward. I had more important things on my mind, setting up my fake identity, and keeping a low profile as Biosculpting set in my bones and flesh and I began filling out the mask of Katheryn Faras.

  Then he’d resurfaced, the Bck Fme coming back and started taking back the territory it lost. Never back to its full height, but a fixture of the Infernal Quarter once again.

  Oh, there’d been an effort to keep them out, from both the Watch’s rank and file and the denizens of the Quarter. It had petered out. The Watch higher-ups didn’t care. Versalicci spent more time these days actually being a criminal and toning down the rebellion rhetoric, and after a while money talked.

  Edwards might despise me, might have nearly refused me refuge during those riots, but he let Bck Fme drink at his bar without issue. Varrow boasted about some of his little band of ne’er do well urchins like myself being recruited into it.

  He was hardly at his old level of influence. He might never reach it again. But Versalicci was cwing his way back and it felt like nothing had changed. Like no one even remembered what had happened, or it had been downpyed in all their minds. Oh, some had no idea of the true extent, thinking that a rger-than-normal street gang of Infernals had dabbled in the Infernal. But the people with power in this city? They all knew.

  That question I’d posed to Voltar, I already suspected an answer. Why had no one gone after Giovanni Versalicci, not even Voltar?

  Intelligence still had a use for their asset. Not a perfect fit, there were still holes. Still other people it could have been but in terms of what had happened? The Quarter pacified, rebellious efforts cleared, a new recruiting ground for Her Majesty’s War Machine. Diabolists gathered under a single banner and crushed, nearly scouring an entire generation of those with the talent from the Quarter. Corrupt officials? Heads chopped off for daring to deal with one from the Hells, and a warning about how much Her Majesty’s eyes could see. Any chance of a unifying force would have its legs cut off by the previous one still being there. Waiting to cut them off at the legs if paid the right amount of gold for his services, that malignant, cruel, pernicious bastard.

  I was vaguely aware of the armrest in the carriage groaning as I quickly let go of it. Cheeks tear-streaked, I tried to stop the first sob from leaving my throat but couldn’t.

  I shouldn’t even be mad. Malvia Harrow didn’t get mad about games well-pyed. It had been a perfectly executed scheme. Well done Imperial Intelligence. You’d made fools of anyone upset at the absolute Hell you forced us to live in. Then you butchered us, after leaving us to die a dozen times you set us up and let us hang ourselves!

  A bit of wood squealed as a tendril of darkness started leaking into it from my fingers, and I quickly forced that off. No. I had control. Do not let it overwhelm you. As terrible of a teacher as he’d been, Daver had been right that letting my emotions control me would never turn out well.

  Masks were best.

  Feeling a bit off? The Imp whispered in my mind, and I opened my eyes, cocking my head to the side but refusing to say anything in response. My eyes felt wet, and I forced the choking sobs to end.

  Denied acknowledgment, it said nothing more. Probably sulking, as it had been since I’d accepted Samuel Voltar’s offer to visit this Diabolist Intelligence worried about.

  I stood, ramrod stiff, just letting the silence creep in as I kept my thoughts in a vise, not letting a single one loose till the carriage came to a halt.

  Tagashin came to the door, still disguised as Barnes. At least she’d dropped that ridiculous pink top hat.

  “At your destination,” she said, affecting a rough and tumble accent that mostly existed in the shilling novels. “You alright and feeling up to this your dyship?”

  “Of course,” I said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  She seemed almost disappointed. “Just checking. Do you want me to hang around, or am I good to leave?”

  “Either is fine,” I said, getting up and heading to the door. “Thank you, I know you didn’t need to do any of this.”

  “It’s fine,” she said. “You help keep life from being too dull. But Malvia, I heard-”

  “Everything is fine,” I said quickly, moving to leave the carriage.

  I was not going to be mocked by this Kitsune. And nothing would be more mocking than pity.

  “Malvia-”

  “It. Is. Fine. Find some other target to nettle already,” I hissed. "Or do you want to enjoy the taste of iron in your tea again?" Tagashin’s next statement didn’t leave her throat. We stared at each other for a bit, and then she mutely nodded before returning to the driver’s bench.

  Something about her expression almost made me want to say..something, but I was running te and..nothing I could think of. Instead, I decided to focus on what was to come next. The pounding headache was already back, as well as just the other unsettling feelings creeping in from those memories.

  I’d grabbed ahold of Malvia tightly enough in an effort to swallow them, but that brought it’s own issues.

  I’d need to loosen it a little. Just for this. If it unsettled Tagashin, as much as the Kitsune had probably needled me into it, it would unbance Liu more and I wanted something out of this conversation. Just a little bit.

  We’d stopped in front of a small establishment, maybe twenty feet wide in front? It extended far deeper than that, the rge gss windows providing a window to what exactly this was.

  I stood in front of a coffee house, although thankfully they served tea in addition to that caffeinated sludge threatening the homes of tea-makers everywhere.

  I exaggerated. A little. It was an alright beverage? They had good pastries as well, which more than made up for naming their establishment after the inferior drink. I’d been working my way through the entire selection, doing extra exercise to make up for the sin of indulging myself. They’d provided a good distraction from what else normally happened here.

  My uncle and I mostly had private conversations by pretending the past never happened. That usually dissolved by the third round of tea, and in one case had ended with a particurly painful bruise on his upper thigh. Still, it meant usually about twenty minutes of peace and tea. Good tea too.

  A new set of rules for this time, to try and keep the peace. He would not bring up diabolism, my mother, Infernals, or really anything connected to that side of my life unprompted. I in return would not be disrespectful to him.

  I was making the greater sacrifice here, but it was worth it just to get inside.

  I couldn’t reserve a table at this pce normally, but as a guest of Uncle Liu? I could get inside the door, only having to endure sneers, stares, and the occasional angry muttering about how the establishment was going downhill.

  If we kept it to only once a week, they might even let it become something consistent.

  I stumbled inside to the usual gres, perhaps a tad more scornful today as I stifled a yawn.

  I’d fallen asleep in the carriage on the way here. Payment for not having managed much sleep st night. Between Skall, Tyler, Glee Street, and old memories haunting my sleep I’d gotten….four hours? Most of them from Skall choking me out in my own home?

  Hardly a restful night. Talking with others, and doing things had kept me going so far, but being alone inside that carriage had made the temptation of closing my eyes too seductive to put off.

  The waiter who came was familiar, probably the only one willing to get the Infernal to her seat and out of the little coffeehouse’s front room.

  He guided me to the side, down a cramped hallway to a private booth well out of the eye of any other patrons and any window the public could see me through.

  I muttered a tired thanks and gave him a tip before entering. Never irritate the staff. Even if they dislike you beforehand, all irritating them would do is increase the odds they’d overlook a bomb pnted under your table. Or people lurking near the alley entrance, waiting to burst in guns bzing. Or how the chef was suddenly a foot shorter, a woman, and an entirely different race and insistent that your order was the one to get this fancy new sauce they wanted to try. One that looked exactly like fkes of arsenic.

  Was my mind wandering? Perhaps a little as I nearly tripped into my seat opposite my uncle. I recovered, getting myself into the seat, only hitting the wall a little bit.

  Uncle Liu looked at me worriedly, but I was more interested in what was on the table. The warm soft floral scents of tea as my trembling hand grabbed a cup. He went to draw the curtains closed, just a little bit of extra security. He’d insisted on being allowed to bring one of Grandfather’s sound-dampening charms to these conversations, and it was fiendishly effective at its job. I doubted even the most fine-tuned of ears could hear what we said, even if it was pressed against one of the walls or the curtain itself.

  “Lily,” my uncle said, looking me over as I slumped into the chair, staring at the cup. “Is now a bad time?”

  I ignored him, taking a tentative sip first, the subtle sweetness and fruity taste of this blend melting away aches, pains, and bad memories.

  Not literally, but enough to perk me up some as I put the cup down.

  “All times are bad times,” I muttered. “Some are just less bad than others. No. New things are happening in the city, some of which I am obliged to get involved in.”

  “The murders of the priests,” he guessed, and I nodded before realizing the use of a plural.

  “The others are already being reported?” I asked.

  “There was a special edition issued at noon,” he replied, visibly amused. “I think if news continues at such a pace they may issue as many as four newspapers a day just to keep up with it. If anything, I’m sure it would appeal to their drive for profits.”

  “Most days are not like this,” I said. “Could you imagine the kind of boring dross that would have to fill each paper just to fill four a day? Just add more pages and hike the prices, if they’re that desperate for news.”

  “Well, while I do not run them, niece, I’m sure at least some have thought of it. I assume some of these must be deliberate falsehoods? I doubt you personally ate the body of the deceased?”

  I sighed. Yeah, the rumour mill surrounding me was probably gonna get started again, not helped by me and Tagashin dodging that crowd outside the Church of Tarver. It probably also would mean more newspapers trying to interview me again. I’d hoped st time had made that clear enough, leaving the one who’d tried breaking into my house hanging from his shoeces off my roof for a few hours.

  Who was I kidding? At least a dozen before this affair was over.

  “No, uncle, I did not eat Father Reginald’s body,” I said. “As I apparently need to keep reminding people, I am not a cannibal.”

  My uncle’s expression turned from joviality to concern. “Why do you have to keep reminding people of that?”

  “You just said the newspaper said I did,” I said as evenly as I could manage. I needed to stop getting off track. Do not go off in tangents, lose focus, or make this awkward!

  “Yes, but it clearly trash not even worth the cost of the paper used to make it. Why would you need to tell someone in person?”

  Of course, today’s conversation would become awkward immediately.

  “I didn’t get born with pointed teeth without a reason, Uncle.”

  His face paled, and his eyes tightened. “You don’t mean to say-“

  “I just said I don’t eat people,” I whispered furiously. “However when someone is about to kill me, yes I do bite them. Often it is a very effective way to end a fight.”

  For a second I thought I’d overstepped, that fsh of anger a step too far about to result in hostilities resumed. Why was it so hard to hold onto the calm?

  He regained his color, nodding.

  “A very..useful tactic,” he noted, though that tension remained in his jaw.

  I decided not to comment on his polite exclusion of the fact it still ended with meat in my mouth. Of all the things to discuss, meat in my mouth was one of them for us to end up on. And I’d let it be taken here, on the part where everyone grew disgusted the moment they saw me bite in. Tagashin and letting the Montague’s see me butchering my way through a cow immediately came to mind.

  Meat. The most messy of meals. Pasties on the other hand?

  People who cimed devils were the most tempting things in this universe had never taken a bite of Casenberg cake in their lives. Never felt it practically dissolve on their tongue, sponge cake, jam, and marzipan blending into a single delicious taste.

  “Niece,” Uncle Liu said a bit uncomfortably. “Could you please not look at my neck like that?”

  “Sorry,” I said quickly and decided that trying to expin would…not be very convincing. “So, you have a fair inkling of how my life goes. How does yours fare?”

  “Not well,” he muttered. “Your aunts are convinced a Kistune has set up a ir inside the city and are urging us to go on a hunt for it. The fact that evidence is slim and that the royal government would not tolerate it like they did in the past seems to matter to none of them.”

  I took another sip of the tea, considering the possibility that Aunt Diwei and my two other aunts could actually catch Tagashin. Unlikely, but worth notifying the Kistune about. I didn’t dislike my other aunts anymore than I did any Xang, and I was hardly going to let Tagashin get butchered so the old crones could add another trophy to the rack of ‘monsters’ they’d killed over the years.

  They actually did kill dangerous and malicious entities. It only made the ones they sted who fit neither category even more egregious in my eyes. And despite anything else, Tagashin did not qualify as that.

  “My understanding was that Kistune had left the city a while ago?” I said. “At the very least gone to ground after the near-scandal it caused.”

  Several actual scandals had burst from that entire mess, but none as potentially ruinous as that young noble who decided to have a wild night of passion with Tagashin in the form of Her Majesty. With fewer malicious barbs from Tagashin these days, discounting what happened entering this shop, I could take a step back and admire her sheer audacity of her. Potentially shattering to Anglean upper-crust society, which only made it even better.

  Pity Voltar had to solve the case and help quietly bury that.

  My uncle’s eyebrows raised at my statement even as the rest of his face remained impassive.

  “There actually is a kitsune? I thought them just wanting a reason to pretend to be thirty years younger again, not that one of those would ever lurk near Avernon.”

  “Lurk is exaggerating,” I said. “It got involved in tricking the local nobles into making fools of themselves. The scheme got perhaps too overambitious for its own good and squashed before anyone of actual power was stung by it. The Kistune had vanished, or at least I heard that’s what most thought. Probably to the countryside, if the Aunts insist on going foxing.”

  Uncle Diwei winced a little at that, but there was no denying that my aunts considered hunting beasts the same as local nobility considered the hunting of small fluffy animals to satisfy their need to feel a bit of safe adrenaline with no real risk. All it took was tearing apart something that probably didn’t deserve it.

  “This isn’t some attempt to make your aunt leave the city, is it?” he asked.

  “No,” I said. Truth be told I was trying to keep my aunt off of Tagashin if only to make my life easier. “If she is genuinely deadset of going hunting, outside the city is best. But enough on the potential presence of a fox spirit. Let’s talk about other rumours being spread. I’ve been informed you and others of the family have talked with Gregory Montague about me.”

  His face tensed up just a little, wariness creeping into his eyes. “We have. What of it?”

  A sip of tea. Keep calm. No sign of anything else. No weakness.

  “I’d ask you please do not talk to him anymore about my past life. Or my current life, but if I must compromise, no words of my past before the quarter.”

  Silence, as I took another sip and waited for the pastries to arrive. I was already preparing myself mentally for an extra hour of exercise tonight. I knew I would not be able to hold out against temptation. I’d already failed when I ordered them on my way to the booth. A moment of weakness born out of memories. Had I gone soft?

  Uncle Liu spoke cautiously as he finally replied. “It does not seem a crime to answer a young man’s questions, nor can I answer for everyone in the family. And Lily, with how you have acted, I am not inclined to agree to this either.”

  I forced down a rising feeling of anger. What exactly did I expect after how some of our st conversations had gone? For him to feel charitable?

  “I do not want him getting a wrong impression of me,” I said. “That is all.”

  “And you fear talking of your past will do that?”

  I sighed, hoping those pastries would come soon. Anything to focus on besides this. “A river’s origin can be quite different than its endpoint, uncle. It can twist and turn, contract and widen, cut through all kinds of territory, have a rocky or smooth bottom, and a hundred other things that change throughout it. It’s all the same river, but to judge by its first stretch would give an opinion widely different from the realities of the river as little as a few miles down. And that’s when those observations of those first few miles are accurate.”

  He inclined his head in acknowledgment. “True, but is it not useful to know those first few miles, to better understand the flow and curve of the river?”

  “I do not need Gregory Montague to know the flow and curves of my river,” I said, only for the realization of what I’d said to hit me.

  I was going to knit my mouth shut one of these days just to keep it silent.

  “Have you tried simply asking the young man to a cafe like this?” My uncle asked, looking across at me while I desperately hoped the damn pastries would arrive. “If you honestly want him to leave you alone, make it clear, and if he is insistent, then no one in the family would begrudge your request, even Diwei.”

  “Considering circumstance has forced us to work together, not an easy thing to promise,” I replied.

  “Surely someone else from his group-”

  “He is the most approachable and easiest,” I admitted. “There are potentially others but they are overshadowed by two who would resent me for even existing. Not a feeling I particurly enjoy.”

  That drew a wince out of him as I took another sip of tea. The soothing sensation had lost some of its potency as it already drew out venom from my body and soul. Less venom to suck up with each successive little mouthful

  “Enough,” I said. “We can revisit this at a ter time, but for now I won’t insist on anything. We set this up to discuss a matter you said needed to be talked about, and you also said there needed to be one other. Unless they are at the wrong table, there’s only the two of us here, Uncle.”

  He grimaced, leaning back in his chair. “I know. This would be easier if you could come to the house.”

  “Not happening,” I said, leaning forward. “For a variety of reasons, but starting with the chances of me running into someone who takes offense to me. It’s a lovely house. I’d hate for a fight to start in it.”

  He sighed, closing his eyes for a second. “Lily, I respect your stance on this, and in retrospect, insisting on it when it was clear why you would be so uncomfortable was impolite of me. But while I agree a fight would start, I expect you to start it as much as any of your cousins.”

  “That’s fair,” I admitted. “I presume that grandfather is the reason this is taking so long then?”

  I’d met my mother’s father very few times, and her mother not at all. Dead before I was born, although I’d had it drilled into my head a couple of times how my existence was making her ghost feel shame by my favorite aunt in the world.

  Hells how I hoped knowing she’d save my life on that ballroom floor had driven Aunt Diwei into a fit.

  Grandfather had been a formidable presence, but those memories….he had been a giant because of my age, because of my family making it clear that he should be treated with respect.

  He’d seemed a little frail even back then. With the years piling on, how much had that frailty grown?

  Not a good sign for the viability of that conversation Uncle Liu insisted we needed to have at some point, which I’d indulged if only because I wanted something out of them.

  I might as well make some kind of offering, especially because making any kind of joke about his health would be rude. Also not exactly wise in achieving my goals.

  “If he takes a serious turn for the worse, let me know?” I said. “I would like to see him one st time before he passes. If he wants me to. And in terms of this conversation we need to have? Once this mess with the murders is finished, we can talk about me returning to the old home and having this discussion. As long as certain people who might object aren’t in the house.”

  “That might be easier than you think,” Liu said. “With Diwei in the monster-hunting mood, I’m certain she will leave the house sooner or ter.”

  Hrrm. Would I be a bad co-worker if I asked Tagashin to make a few more overt appearances around Avernon to provoke Diwei a little more? Probably. Still worth considering. Also unlikely given how I’d snapped at her. That would need apologizing for, but first, why I’d come today to begin with.

  Today’s conversation, I’d hoped to make progress on this topic anyway. Melissa’s cims had only made it more important to try and get a positive outcome by the end of this.

  “Uncle,” I said. “Let’s forget about family business for a moment. Somewhat. In a fashion, it does still deal with family. Mother’s research into Diabolism, did you burn it?”

  He paused mid-sip into his tea, visibly composing himself. “Why do you ask?”

  “I find myself lost in a maze where every guide has their own agenda,” I replied. “A less biased source than those would be wise.”

  “And you trust your mother to be that unbiased source?” He asked wearily.

  “I trust her research to be,” I said, forcing calm into my voice. His refusal to expin the nature of their falling out made every little insult at her feel like a poke driven into my side.

  “Diabolism?” he asked.

  “Reted to the case,” I said. “I do not take this up lightly Uncle. There’s a slim chance what I might be looking for is in those notes.”

  Extremely slim, but better than the Imp, who was grumbling in the back of my head over all of this. And potentially better than the diabolist Intelligence wanted me to meet. Any living diabolist was suspect, til the nails had been driven into the coffin of this whispered deal.

  “They may still exist,” he admitted. “I can hardly just grab them for you. Even if the rest of the family would not know and object, I would not hand them over without first finding out why?”

  “It’s…difficult,” I said. “I can assure you it’s for a good cause, but you can’t believe me without me expining why. And I cannot expin why without my employers becoming rather upset with me. Secrecy is paramount and all that, traitors to the throne get their heads on the block.”

  “It is actually some horrifying axe thing in a wooden frame these days,” he told me somberly. “They even cim it’s more humane. And are you not already a traitor to the throne?”

  “Yes, but I took up an offer and now am a loyal servant to the crown,” I said. “Or at least loyal enough they deem me worth more dead than alive. I did commit treason, Uncle. That’s not something done lightly.”

  “And if offered the same choice today?”

  Oh, what were the odds some Intelligence operative was listening to this? Not great odds, since this booth muffled sound, and the charm. Still, lying would be its own giveaway.

  “I am what the Quarter made me,” I told Liu. “It’s a nicer Quarter these days. Just took killing or conscripting most of those in it. What will they do next time they decide the Quarter is being too much an issue for their tastes?”

  Silence for a bit, then he cleared his throat. “My fault, but we are a little afield of what you were asking. You need your mother’s research? Why?”

  “Some things,” I admitted. “Hidden things. This is sentiment in part, Uncle, I’ll admit that. But part of it is a genuine need. Besides, I need it for another reason.”

  Mother had been the foremost authority on the Devil that had spawned me. Mostly because of well, their personal retionship. Another long shot, but a way to test for ancestry might be inside.

  Liu remained quiet, clearly waiting for me to continue. I had hoped to not have to offer anything, but I suspected pretty soon the entire story would have to be offered onto the table.

  “Do you ever wonder about second chances, Uncle?” I asked him.

  “I believe I am looking at someone living on hers,” he said, and I waved dismissively.

  “Judgments on worthiness to live or not, a chance to fix a mistake?” I asked him. “To…make up for something done wrong in the past?”

  “Which thing,” he asked me somberly. “I’m not going to pretend I can pick which one you’re thinking of out of the list.”

  That was fair. Far more than fair, even if most of those….I could think about the nature of redemption and absolution ter.

  “A betrayal,” I said, and decided to not add ‘one of many’ to that list. “Things I’ve done for the Fme? Those are debatable. I buried those methods but the reasons why? Well, I suppose we’ll find out if I’m pressed to do them again.”

  His reply got caught off by the curtains opening, the waiter finally bringing our orders.

  I’d fallen to temptation again, infuriatingly. My attempts to keep my useless appetite under control meant the slice of Casenberg cake, the red and white sections carefully glued together with jam.

  “I need something specific,” Liu said. “Even if I was inclined to believe you, the others would never believe such a vague reason.”

  I drummed my fingers nervously. I couldn’t get these papers without giving him something, but at the same time even if no one was around to hear it, Liu himself was a danger. He had no blood ties to Melissa, no reason to care. He may simply refuse, and even if prying a secret from a Xang was like pulling teeth, it was one more soul who knew that didn’t need to.

  “I am trying to save one who shares much in common with the betrayed.”

  “And what would this one share with those betrayed, that’s also something in common with you as well?”

  He wouldn’t fight the family for this unless I gave him something to bite onto. Hells, he wouldn’t be willing even if there wasn’t a fight unless he had something.

  Don’t name a name, and trust in some discretion. If there’s one thing I could count on a Xang for, it was keeping things within the family lines.

  “Blood,” I said. “We share blood.”

  A pause, as I drank from my tea. In the time that passed before he spoke up, the waiter finally showed up with our orders, and I was resisting the siren’s call of the cake in front of me.

  “Not your mother’s blood?”

  “No,” I admitted. “The other side.”

  His eyes tightened, his impassive expression becoming a scowl. “And you ask me to get you these notes for it?”

  “Not for it,” I said. “Never for it. At it’s best? Mother had affection, it had…whatever that thing is capable of feeling instead of love. Pride? Possessiveness? At worse, a tool and pything for it. No, this is about someone else being tricked and lied to by someone just as bad as it. About making sure they don’t become a tool. If they tell the truth.”

  “And if they don’t?”

  I chewed on that for a second. If she had, and if worse Versalicci had instructed her on this, knowing how it would tug on me.

  My gaze met my uncle’s unwaveringly, and something in his own eyes seemed to shy away some.

  “Then maybe I will unearth those methods I’ve buried, Uncle.”

  He seemed a little at a loss for words, and by now even a mask couldn’t hide my desire for the slice. I took up my fork and went to work.

  I nibbled at the piece of Casenberge delicately, reveling in the bursts of taste as I slowly devoured it. No more than one slice, that was the oath made to myself. Already I’d have to do so much working out for just this slightest bit of indulgence.

  My uncle looked at me in bemusement, and I forced down a pang of irritation. I didn’t how care silly I might look while eating cake.

  “Uh, niece,” he said respectfully. “You may want to stop before you tear the booth’s curtains off?”

  I was about to ask what he was talking about when I felt the tip of it brush against the curtains hanging from the booth entrance.

  I turned an accusatory gaze on my tail as it halted, the movement stilled mid-swing before it could continue another pass from one side to another.

  “It tastes good?” My uncle ventured, and I turned that gaze on him. “It’s far too sweet for my taste, but I understand how good a comforting treat might feel after a stressful day.”

  “You saw nothing,” I said as seriously as I could manage, trying to stop the corner of my lips from quirking into a grin. Traitor that my body was, it refused to obey. “I’m going to end up paying for this ter, I’m afraid.”

  Stupid. Stupid. It was involuntary but if I’d had even a hint it would do something like that, I would have bound it to my leg.

  “I don’t think a second slice would be something anyone would begrudge you,” he said, and I forced a chuckle as I shook my head.

  “I would,” I said. “Down that way lies temptation Uncle. Why saw the Hells are the greatest tempters when bakers manage to fit pleasures beyond measure into such a simple bite? One could it’s not deserved even.”

  “Everyone deserves some relief,” he said, his grin faltering just a little. “Dreary days need something to relieve their stress and pain.”

  I couldn’t really agree. Cake every day would ruin me, and spoil me far too much, not to mention the expense. Better as a rare treat. Even if I could afford it, most days just gritting my teeth and pushing through was the better choice. Letting the world see something besides blood and ash made them think you were weak. Cake in the Quarter was the sign you had money, and worse, you wasted it on things you shouldn’t.

  I couldn’t quite yet force myself to obey that. Yet.

  “Cake aside,” I said more seriously. “Thank you. I know that arguing this in front of the family is not going to be easy.”

  “It will be quite an argument to have,” he said. “In some ways, you are lucky that your exploits in that criminal group you belonged to have been somewhat obscured. If everyone in the family knew them-”

  “Swords, head, off my soul goes to the Hells,” I said drily. “No offense to the family, but I’ve had that threat from so many quarters since my…disowning? Exile? However, you want to term it. That threat has existed from so many groups and individuals that it kind of loses its impact. Now, some priest of Halpsus trapping my soul in a Silver Spike, shoving it into some dark vault where I’m aware and can do nothing but scream for the centuries to follow? That still holds some terror for me.”

  As much as it grated for me to say, that was still a lesser cruelty compared to how it had been. Before they realized it might result in the spikes washing up on distant shores in the future on rare occasions, Halspus’ priests used to dump them in the seas.

  “You don’t talk about your times there,” he said.

  With the Xangs? Oh. He meant the Fme.

  “I do,” I said “and people don’t seem to listen to the examples I give of what it was like. Uncle, I am not going to dwell on it. If I do share the details, we’ll end up brawling when we get to details. I’m hardly going to pretend most people would agree with what I did.”

  “Did you enjoy it?” He asked me.

  I snorted. “Did I enjoy what I did? Uncle, either answer is a castigation. I did, I am truly a monster who delights in torture most foul and evil. I didn’t, I still did it, too much of a coward to ever truly rebel against something I was repulsed by. What do you think is it Uncle?”

  “I remember a girl who cried after the rain made a butterfly plummet to the ground.”

  “I can still remember the rain on my face going to try and save it,” I replied, trying and failing to keep the venom out of my voice. “The kindly older retive who came to help me, who convinced a disbelieving priest to heal it. And I also remember what happened several years ter.”

  I’d messed this up, letting the mask fall off far too much. I’d gotten him to agree to get mother’s research, and I decided to say this to him? Fool!

  He had gone stony face, and only the knowledge that it wouldn’t do any good kept an apology to try and butter him back up off my lips.

  “Fair,” he finally said. “I suppose that makes me the second answer to your question. But what does that make you, Lily?”

  I slumped in my seat, shocked this somehow was not coming to blows, and my answer slipped out before I realized it.

  “There’s a lot one can feel pride in when they think it’s for a good cause. Enjoy? Sometimes. Sometimes not. If I did it knowing what I know no? I can’t say.”

  He mulled it over while I slumped even further. Twice failed. Far, far too out of practice. Incapable.

  “I’ll have your mother’s notes to you if I can get them,” he finally said. “If I can get them. It’s entirely possible I do not. But I will make the effort.”

  I looked up, trying to formute something. “Why?”

  “Some debts need to be repaid. No matter how firm we are about what we did at the time.”

  My eyes narrowed. No, there was something in this. Somewhere. Trying to guilt me into coming to the family house? Where was it?

  “I do apologize, but I must go,” he said, and that didn’t give me any hints either. “I must do my part in convincing your aunts that one cannot turn a busy train station into a hunter’s blind, no matter how convinced they are of their abilities to hide it from the Imperial authorities. Or roping your cousins into it.”

  “Diwei?” I asked.

  “Worse, my wife,” he said with a tired smile. “She also wants you over for tea at some point, although it is more likely she will accept she must travel here.”

  Was that it? Tea with Aunt Jing? No, no he wouldn’t make a concession that rge for something so trivial. To my frustration, I couldn’t spot it, nor could I dey this any longer.

  “It has been a pleasant conversation, Uncle,” I said and was surprised to realize I meant it. This was a first, wasn’t it? A full meeting for tea without yelling or angry mutterings about disrespect. If you discounted certain parts.

  “Likewise, Lily,” he said. “If I can ask, where are you going after this?”

  My lips quirked. I’d spoken too soon.

  “Well Uncle, I must meet a diabolist most foul and evil in nature. Apparently, I am to become her student.”

  To my shock, he simply nodded.

  “Sometimes fate nds us in pces where there are no good options,” he said. “May you navigate this one successfully. After, when this calms, if you want to have tea and just ears to listen?”

  “No,” I said quickly. “No, I appreciate…it is unneeded.”

  Damn him, he didn’t say anything, didn’t withdraw any offers, didn’t even get mad.

  “If you ever feel like it then.”

  And now I was alone, in a booth, with nothing but a swiftly cooling slice of cake for company.

  I’d gotten what I wanted, but as I forced my hands away from knife and fork, that knot in my gut only twisted further and further. Hunger, especially with food right in front of me, but something else besides my twisted desire for the half-eaten pastry.

  No temptations. No allowing anything to grab purchase, as I got to my feet and headed back outside.

  Saithorthepyro