Whimsy led Abbee away from the precinct, heading north toward the escarpment. Abbee didn’t talk much at first. She told herself it was getting dark and too hard to look at everything that was different. But the walk felt too close to home. Too close to the wordless trek north from Joor. A few blocks from the precinct, Abbee forced herself to skip forward and walk backward so she could see Whimsy.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” Whimsy said.

Abbee turned back around. “What kind of a surprise?”

“This kind.” Whimsy stopped in front of a house that looked like all the others. A young man sat on an upside-down crate on the step. He was in his stocking feet and eating a carrot.

The young man saw Whimsy and pulled the carrot out of his mouth. “Hi, Whimsy.”

“Hoger,” Whimsy said. “Is your father free right now?”

“Yep,” Hoger said. “Back so soon?”

“Not for me,” Whimsy said.

Hoger looked at Abbee. Smiled at her. His eyes took on a faraway look, as if he were looking through her, across the street. Abbee recognized that look. Hoger had one of the mental talents. Maybe he was a speaker, talking to his father inside the house. Abbee watched the smile slide off Hoger’s face. He blinked. Shuddered. Hoger hopped down off his crate and went inside.

Not a speaker. Hoger was an empath or a telepath, and Abbee had just been scanned without her permission. She wondered what Hoger had found. She had a lot of negative emotions swirling just below the surface. None of them were any of his business. Of the known talents, Abbee hated movers the most. Telepaths were a close second, and empaths right behind them. They always poked around in people’s heads whenever they felt like it. Irritation spiked, and her tone grew short.

“Why are we here, Whimsy?”

Hoger leaned out of the door and hooked his thumb. “C’mon in. Take off your shoes.”

Whimsy walked up the front step. Abbee didn’t move. “Whimsy.”

“Baylor can help,” Whimsy said. “He’s the best in the city.”

“The best at what?”

“Smoothing you out.” Whimsy stepped inside. “C’mon. It’s painless, and you’ll feel better.”

Feeling better sounded good to Abbee, but she wasn’t sure how anyone could help with that. She walked up the steps. “You need to explain more.”

Whimsy kicked off her boots and stood them next to the open doorway. Abbee did the same and placed hers on the other side of Whimsy’s. They were right next to the open door, and anybody could step inside and take them. Whimsy’s looked newer, and a thief would probably take those first. Still, Abbee didn’t like it.

“If someone takes my boots,” she warned, “you’re buying me a new pair. And not from Hudson’s son.”

“You and me both,” Whimsy said. She looked happy to be out of her uncomfortable shoes.

Hoger stood around the corner, outside a room. He gestured for them to go in. Whimsy moved like she knew where she was going, and walked past Hoger into a small sitting room, where Abbee saw a plush sofa and chair. A round table sat between them. The walls had dark wood paneling on their bottom halves and deep green wallpaper above. Oil lamps in several places, but turned low, so the room had many shadows.

Abbee stopped in the doorway and turned to Hoger. She gave him the same disapproving look that Ipsu had used on a daily basis. It wasn’t exactly the same. Ipsu was taller than Abbee, and he could loom. Abbee couldn’t loom over Hoger, but she glowered at him anyway.

“Don’t scan me again without permission.”

Hoger blinked and frowned in confusion.

“You shouldn’t do that at all,” Abbee added. “To anyone.”

“It’s part of the service,” Hoger said. “I have to do a—”

“I haven’t agreed to any kind of service,” Abbee said. “Ask first.”

Whimsy let out another sigh. Abbee looked and saw her leaning back on the sofa with a satisfied expression.

“Abbee,” Whimsy said without looking up. “You have to sit on this thing.”

Hoger used Whimsy’s interruption to walk away, moving deeper into the house.

“Where’s he going?” Abbee asked.

“Don’t worry,” Whimsy said, still with closed eyes. “Come sit and relax. This is amazing.”

Abbee walked over to the couch, careful to avoid bumping the table. She looked down at Whimsy, who indeed looked comfortable. Abbee decided to try out the couch and sat down. It was like sitting on a cradling cloud. A satisfied sigh escaped her lips unbidden. Abbee couldn’t believe anything could be so comfortable. She leaned back and rested her neck on the back cushion. Her cares seemed to leak out of her, and she let out a groan a lot like Whimsy’s.

“I told you,” Whimsy murmured.

Abbee felt like she should be doing something or asking about where Hoger had gone, but she found it difficult to care. She sighed in contentment.

Something soft rubbed up against her leg. Abbee opened her eyes as something landed on her. She surprised herself by not punching the big furry cat standing on her lap. It was gray blue with giant golden eyes. Abbee froze in astonishment. In the past seven years, no animal had done anything but run away from her. In their defense, she’d been trying to eat them, but this cat’s behavior still surprised her. The cat blinked at Abbee, settled down, and started purring. Abbee scratched behind the cat’s ears, and the animal’s purring grew louder.

“That’s Urd,” Whimsy said, opening one eye to regard the cat. “He likes you. He never sits on me.” Whimsy reached her hand out toward Urd. The cat’s eyes turned to slits, and his ears lay back. Whimsy withdrew her hand with a snort. “See?”

Abbee didn’t know why a cat as soft as Urd would resist petting. She scratched his ears, relaxed on the sofa, and felt better than she had in ages.

Footsteps in the hall. A tall man with a thick brown beard stepped into the doorway. He held a silver tray with a teapot and three cups. He could’ve loomed if he’d wanted, but Abbee didn’t feel threatened by him at all. He smiled at them, and Abbee found herself liking him immediately. A tiny alarm bell dinged in the back of her head but vanished under the waves of happiness and contentment she felt from sitting next to Whimsy on this very comfortable sofa.

“It’s wonderful to see you,” the man said in a slow, rumbling baritone. “My name is Baylor.” His voice sounded like distant thunder on a breezy plain. He stepped into the room and set his tray down on the table. He settled into the chair across from them and smiled again. Baylor poured tea into one cup. Lifted it and held it out to Abbee. “This is for you.”

Abbee shifted her weight and took the cup, careful not to dislodge Urd from her lap. She sniffed it. It smelled earthy and floral. The cup was warm but not too hot. She sipped it. The tea tasted nice. She noticed she was the only one with a cup, and the alarm bell dinged again but faded just as quickly. Abbee drank the rest of the tea and leaned back in even more contentment than before. She rolled her head to the side and grinned at Whimsy, who nodded at her with a knowing smile. Abbee scratched Urd’s ears and wished this feeling would last forever. The only thing wrong with the whole scene was a faint itching on the back of Abbee’s wrists. She ignored it.

“Thank you for coming,” Baylor rumbled. “I’m told you are suffering, and I can help with that.”

Abbee didn’t remember telling anyone she was suffering, but that was okay. Urd was soft, and the couch was soft, and she felt utterly relaxed.

“Strong emotions can be powerful,” Baylor continued, “but left to our own devices, we dwell on them and ruminate and let them rule us. Emotions are like a river. A healthy person stands in their river and lets everything flow past them. Hardly anybody’s like that. Most people are bobbing along and sometimes touching the bottom with their toes.”

“And an unhealthy person?” Whimsy prompted.

“They never touch the bottom. And down there, down in the deep, is a dark place that they never touch, but it poisons everything else.”

Abbee didn’t like the sound of that. She wanted to feel better. The itch on her wrists grew stronger. Baylor leaned forward and stared at Abbee. His eyes became hooded, and the smile on his lips faded into a thin line of concentration. Abbee felt something twist inside her, and not in a good way. She frowned. Baylor frowned. His eyes flared wide, and he sucked in a breath. Mote streamed from his wrists.

The room tilted and changed in front of Abbee. Baylor turned into a bright light, and the deep green walls lost their color, changing to deep black shadows. Urd shifted into a pitted table, and the cradling sofa dug uncomfortably into her shoulder and hips. The leather restraints. Abbee was back in Joor. She was trapped in the basement all over again.

Panic thrummed through Abbee. No! Not again!

The panic flashed to anger. Ipsu!

Ipsu had done this to her.

Working with the gray wizard all along. He’d pawned her off to the sightless torturer. He had only rescued her because he’d felt guilty about it. Abbee bet he had been eager to abandon her outside Akken.

The basement shifted, and Abbee was no longer strapped to a table. She registered movement. A grunt. No, a cry of fear. She recognized that sound, that voice. She was falling. She looked up and caught a glimpse of her father’s terrified face in the gloom. She liked seeing his fear. Liked that he was going to die and she was going to live.

A tingle vibrated her body, and her wrists itched. She wanted to scratch them, but she couldn’t move.

Oh. Her arms were broken. Her father had smashed them both. She was weak. Couldn’t fight back. No, she was a fighter. Fought plenty. She’d sparred and wrestled with Ipsu and—Ipsu.

That bastard. He’d made her this way. Her father had made her this way.

She lived in the darkness, and she was going to die in the gloom. Her fear rippled into fury at her lot in life. All she had wanted to do was help her mother with her knitting, but her father had ripped that dream from her.

She had wanted to run forever in the woods, and Ipsu had torn that from her.

She had wanted to heal others, like Whimsy, but the world had said no. She’d be broken and backward and selfish and full of fear and rage. The tingle grew and grew until Abbee felt like she was about to burst. She wanted to burst. She wanted to explode and be done with it. Abbee was on the cusp of something. So close. A deep, dark core of something, and she wanted it. Wanted to set it free. Show everyone what they’d made. Abbee reached out in her mind. It’s right there. I’m right there.

“Abbee.” Whimsy’s voice. “Abbee.” Sounded far away. Scared. “Snap out of it.”

The basement fell away and morphed back into Baylor’s sitting room. Whimsy had both hands on Abbee’s arm and was shaking her. Baylor was on his feet in the doorway, half in and half out, like he was about to leave. His eyes were wide, and his fists clenched at his sides. Mote streamed from him. Abbee registered pain. Urd hissed and yowled, and his claws dug into Abbee’s legs through her trousers. He’d twisted his head around and bitten her knuckles several times. She realized that she was holding him down. Abbee blinked and loosened her grip. Urd launched himself off Abbee’s lap and fled the room through Baylor’s legs.

Whimsy let go of Abbee and leaned back, watching both Baylor and Abbee with alarm. Abbee massaged her fingers and saw mote on her wrists. A lot of it. She rubbed them on her legs, trying to get the mote off. She realized the sofa wasn’t all that comfortable. It was stiff and stained, and a spring poked her in the back. The wallpaper was peeling, and the room smelled faintly of smoke. Smelled of … Abbee couldn’t place it. She picked up the teacup from the floor. She must have dropped it. A few drops of amber-colored liquid rolled in the bottom. She sniffed it. No floral notes. Her nose wrinkled at the bitter, acrid aroma.

“What is this?” Abbee frowned at Baylor. “What did you do?”

Baylor stared at her wrists in astonishment. “You shouldn’t have … That doesn’t make any sense.”

“What doesn’t make sense?”

“I gave you snuffer,” Baylor said. “In the tea.”

“You’re giving people snuffer?” Whimsy asked. “Baylor.”

“Snuffer?” Abbee asked, alarmed. “You gave me snuffer without telling me?”

“It’s to help you relax and smother your talent in case you have one,” Baylor said. “I give the tea to everyone. There are so many talented who come in for delving that I don’t even ask anymore.”

“Delving?” Abbee echoed. “What’s that? What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Baylor said. “I never got that far.”

Abbee pushed off the sofa and rose to her feet. She felt a familiar tickle on her knuckles as her body healed Urd’s scratches. She tucked her hands into her armpits to hide the healing. “You’re an empath.” Horror spread over Abbee. “Wait, did you see my memories?” She didn’t want anyone to know what had happened to her in Joor. “Did your son?”

“No. We’re both empaths. You need a telepath for that.”

Abbee turned to Whimsy. “You should’ve told me. I wouldn’t have agreed to this.”

Whimsy stood up, frowning. “It’s for your own good. You can barely carry on a conversation without breaking down. You’re never going to make it through training if you’re falling apart every other minute.” She gestured at Baylor. “Besides, I’ve done this twice. He’s the best around. Perfectly safe.” She frowned. “I didn’t know about the snuffer, though. What’s your talent?” She looked at Baylor. “Did you screw up the dose? Is she an empath? I’ve heard you can’t delve each other.”

“I’m not an empath,” Abbee said. “No, I’m not a telepath either, and I’m not a wizard, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I don’t know what you are,” Baylor said, “but it took everything I had to keep you together. Longest moment of my life. I was fighting you the entire time.” He regarded Abbee with tight, frightened eyes. “And you were fighting back. I was losing. There’s evil in you, and … it’s as if you wanted to let it out.” He shuddered. “You should go.”

Abbee shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what happened.”

“Get out,” Baylor said. He backed out of the doorway and pointed down the hall.

“But—”

“Leave,” Baylor said, his voice rising. “Or … or I’ll report you. I’ll tell the university—”

Abbee didn’t know what that meant, but Whimsy apparently did. Her eyes flared.

“Hey,” Whimsy said, stepping around the table toward Baylor. She took two steps and tripped. Stumbled. “Hey!” she shouted, straightening. “You do that and you’re done, Baylor. Really done. Especially after I just found out you’re giving people snuffer. Where did you get it? You’re not supposed to even have that.” Her voice rose an octave. “Wait, did you give me snuffer when I came in here?”

“No,” Baylor said, folding his arms. “I know you’re a healer. Your talent isn’t dangerous.”

“Oh,” Whimsy said. “Good. You’re still going to tell me where you’re getting snuffer.”

Abbee decided she didn’t care. The room was too small, and all she wanted was to get out. She pushed past Whimsy and shouldered Baylor out of the way. Whimsy and Baylor continued to argue over Baylor’s access to snuffer. Abbee grabbed her boots on the way out. Hoger was sitting on his crate outside. He scrambled off and scooted down to the other side of the porch when Abbee emerged from the house.

She glowered at him. “Stay out of my head.”

“No objection here,” Hoger said, waving his hands.

Abbee sat down on the front step and pulled on her boots. She wanted to leave but didn’t know where to go. It was getting dark, and she had nowhere to stay. She had to wait for Whimsy to come out. Abbee swore. This had been a mistake. She should never have come into the city, looking for Ipsu. Four days was an eternity; he’d never stay in the city that long. He was gone. She had no idea in which direction he might’ve gone either. It could be months, maybe even years before she saw him again. If ever.

The shouting inside died down. Whimsy appeared on the porch with her boots in her hand. She saw Abbee. Turned around and went back inside. Whimsy’s angry voice echoed out through the door. “I mean it, Baylor. I hear one whisper of this, and you’ll have so many constables in here it’ll look like we moved the precinct.”

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“I got it,” Baylor answered, sounding beaten. “I got it. I won’t say anything. But you know I’m right.”

Whimsy came back outside. She sat down next to Abbee and pulled on her boots. “I’m sorry about all that.”

Abbee stood up and turned around. Folded her arms. “Sorry about Baylor or sorry that you didn’t tell me what we were here for?”

“Both, okay?” Whimsy said. “Look, it’s a little complicated.” Her voice dropped to a murmur. “I think I convinced Baylor that you’re not a wizard.”

“What? I’m not—”

“Either way, he won’t say anything.”

Baylor appeared in the doorway. He saw Abbee and grimaced. “Hoger, come in here.”

“What for?” Hoger replied.

“Just do it. I need to talk to you.”

Hoger groaned and hopped down off his crate. He walked around his father and went inside. Baylor looked at Abbee and opened his mouth to say something. Closed it. He shot a nasty look at Whimsy’s back and closed the door.

Whimsy stood up. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“You still need a place to sleep tonight, yeah? I got a spare room.” She glanced at Baylor’s door. “And my house is right near the train yards.”

“What, so I can leave the city in a hurry?”

Whimsy nodded. “Shouldn’t come to that.” She headed down the street. “Baylor knows I can make his life a living nightmare, but people get all squirrelly over wizards.”

Abbee fell in next to her. “I said I’m not a wizard. I’m talented, okay? I presented the night of the golems. I—”

Whimsy yelped. She pushed Abbee off the street into an alley. Abbee was so surprised she didn’t fight back. Whimsy shoved Abbee next to a stack of crates and walked back into the street. Looked around. When she came back, her eyes were frightened. “Don’t ever tell anybody that. I mean it, Abbee. It would almost be better for you if you said you were a wizard.”

“What? Then I’d have the hunters after me.”

“They’d figure out you weren’t, or kill you.”

“I don’t see how that last bit is an improvement.”

“Either way, you wouldn’t disappear into the university and never come out.” Whimsy looked around again. “Don’t ever say you presented during Towerfall. You presented before. Or the day after. But not during. Never that.”

“Okay,” Abbee said. “But why? What happens to people at the university?”

“We don’t know,” Whimsy said. “Nobody does. But it’s bad. They don’t come back. Look, even asking about it can make your life miserable.” She took a step back and paced in a little circle. “You’re lucky you didn’t say that in front of Baylor. You’d really have to leave the city. It wouldn’t be safe. You remember Harald? Ran the front desk at the precinct while you were there?”

“Yeah, the one with the itch.”

“That’s right. Harald had a cousin who presented over in the River District that night. She was weird, had a strange talent. She vanished into the university. Harald tried everything to get her out but got told off. Got demoted. He tried to break into their campus and got sacked over it. He still didn’t stop. He vanished too. Nobody’s seen him in months.”

Abbee frowned. “What do you mean, she was weird?”

“Are you not listening to what I’m saying?” Whimsy demanded. “It’s dangerous for you here.”

The memory of a dark basement flickered through Abbee’s head. She pushed it away. “It’s dangerous for me everywhere. Why was Harald’s cousin weird?”

“She was a telepath, but backward. Broadcast her thoughts to everyone within twenty meters. Can you imagine? Everyone around you knowing your private thoughts?” Whimsy shuddered. “I’d rather die.”

Abbee felt her mouth drop open. The golems. Their march had made talented people backward. The golems had done it. For the first time in seven years, Abbee had a reason for her gift. A reason for being broken and backward. She wasn’t a mistake. I was made this way. And there were others like her. She wasn’t alone. Well, sort of alone if the university was scooping them up. Another memory of Joor rattled through her head. Abbee knew that if the university caught her, she’d end up like that again. But this time, Ipsu wouldn’t show up to save her. Abbee felt a stab of anger at needing Ipsu for anything, and a shiver of fear at the idea of another basement. Whimsy was right. Akken wasn’t safe. Abbee shook herself. It wasn’t safe anywhere.

“What’s your talent?” Whimsy asked. She shook her head. “No, no, don’t tell me. It’s better that I don’t know.” She swore. “But I do know that you presented, you told me … No, don’t say anything more. I’ll tell myself I misheard you. I do that enough, convince myself, and a telepath won’t read it if I get scanned. I misheard you. You didn’t … I’m not … I misheard you.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Abbee said. “As if a telepath isn’t going to figure out that you’re lying to yourself. Besides, all they have to do is scan me.” Abbee gestured at Whimsy with her chin. “I’m like you.”

“No, no, no!” Whimsy exclaimed. “Don’t … Wait.” Her brows shot up. “You’re a healer?”

Abbee nodded. “But backward. I can’t heal anyone else”—she looked around and lowered her voice—“but me.”

Whimsy’s mouth dropped open. “So that’s why the snuffer didn’t work on you. Your gift neutralized it.” She blinked in astonishment. “That’s incredible. I’m so jealous. I can’t even do a headache, and you can … Wait, what’s the worst thing you’ve healed?”

Abbee managed to stay out of the dark places in her mind. She wasn’t telling Whimsy what had happened in Joor. That she’d murdered helpless people. Children. Whimsy liked Abbee right now, and Abbee didn’t want that to end. Abbee thought of Lencoe. Remembered the drovers and rotated her shoulder. “I broke my arm a few months ago.”

“I’m so jealous,” Whimsy repeated. “So jealous.”

Abbee was happy she had an explanation for why she was backward, as Whimsy had said, but it didn’t explain everything. Didn’t explain how Abbee stole life from other people. Didn’t explain why she’d withered an entire clearing, or suddenly become faster, stronger. Abbee had a little more information about herself but somehow felt even more confused. The golems had done something to her, maybe, but she was still very different from everyone else. Maybe she really was a wizard. No, I’m not. But maybe. The thought wouldn’t go away, and there wasn’t anyone around who she could ask. Seven years ago, Abbee could’ve walked up to the Tower and found a wizard and asked them. Now she was alone. “Yes, well, at least you can help other people. I can’t.”

“You also probably can’t be poisoned,” Whimsy said.

“I can, sort of,” Abbee said. “Ipsu went through a phase. He gave me—”

“He knew about your gift?”

“Not at first, I don’t think,” Abbee said. “But he did eventually. He tested the boundaries of my gift all the time. Pushed me out of trees, off cliffs, down ravines. I think the poisons were the worst. He ruined all my favorite foods trying to poison me. Except bread. He never tried to poison bread, thankfully. He gave me concentrated cobra venom one time, and all I did was take a nap.”

Whimsy shook her head in amazement. “You can’t get drunk, can you?”

“Not at all. Look, you wouldn’t be so jealous if you knew I felt everything. I know you can deaden pain in other people. I can’t.”

Whimsy grimaced. “Not even a little?”

“Not a bit. I can heal, but I hurt. I feel everything. I’m not invincible.” Abbee hoped Whimsy didn’t catch the truth bending. She could be stopped. Just not permanently. “So it’s not like I go looking for injuries or anything. Though they seem to find me without trouble.”

Whimsy nodded. “That’s why you need to stay away from the university. Imara Togrim would start salivating if she found out about you.”

Abbee sighed. She couldn’t stay in Akken. Ipsu was probably gone, anyway. “Look, I don’t want to impose on you any more than I already have. You’re right. I—”

“No, you’re not imposing … Wait, what am I right about?”

“It’s too dangerous for me here,” Abbee said. “I should go.”

Whimsy sighed. “I wish it weren’t true, but … okay. You can stay at my place tonight, and I’ll put you on a train first thing in the morning. I’d do it now, but the trains don’t run at night.”

“Mostly,” Abbee corrected. “There’s that story that one made the trip from Akken to Veronna in two days, running at night.”

“That’s a myth,” Whimsy said. “Nobody did that.”

***

Akken was an expansive city with wide avenues and parks, but it still had lots of nooks and crannies. Whimsy’s house sat in a quiet neighborhood that had been crammed into a corner of the city, between the escarpment and the train yards. Abbee didn’t like it. She liked the quiet island, set apart from the city’s constant bustle, but the street dead-ended in Whimsy’s neighborhood, and there was only one way in or out. If Abbee had to leave in a hurry, she’d have to grow wings.

They walked under an iron arch and into a wide courtyard bordered by a dozen houses. A fountain bubbled in the center of the courtyard, encircled by a patch of yellowing grass. Several small children ran around the fountain under the watch of their parents. Whimsy waved at them, and they waved back with smiles that didn’t extend to Abbee. They watched Abbee and gathered their children a little closer.

“Touchy group,” Abbee observed.

“They don’t like strangers is all,” Whimsy said.

“You bring a lot of strangers home?”

“What? No.” Whimsy looked over her shoulder at Abbee. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look rough.”

“I live in the woods, Whimsy.”

“Yeah, and it takes a rough sort to do that.”

The escarpment loomed over the neighborhood. Abbee was used to living in the woods and didn’t like standing so close to potential rockfalls.

When she asked about it, Whimsy said, “There’s no danger. It looks close, but we’re actually about fifty meters away. All the rocks settle in a little pocket on the other side of Rankin’s house. A crew comes through and cleans them up every month.” Whimsy frowned at a gray house across the courtyard. “Though if a boulder hit his house, I wouldn’t complain.”

Fifty meters didn’t seem far enough to Abbee. “What’s so bad about him?”

Whimsy sniffed. “It’s less Rankin and more his yap dog that barks in the middle of the night.”

“I can take care of that if you want,” Abbee offered, tapping one of her belt knives.

“Abbee, you can’t just go into people’s houses and kill their pets,” Whimsy said.

“Everybody’s gotta eat.”

Whimsy shuddered. She stopped in front of a narrow house sandwiched in between two larger ones. “This is me.”

The house was bright yellow with a blue door. The houses on either side were brick and were connected overhead by a brick skyway. “It looks like your neighbors are trying to absorb your place,” Abbee said.

“A little,” Whimsy said. “That’s one house, actually. Mine used to be their carriage courtyard, but space was at a premium during reconstruction. They shoved houses into nearly every open space, which makes for some strange places littered around Akken.” She chuckled. “You should see what the Geometric Gardens look like. The nice thing is, that brick isn’t a facade. Their whole house is made of brick, which means I can’t hear them through the walls. It’s great.”

“You got a house even while the constables were out in the camps?” Abbee asked.

“I’m a Class Four,” Whimsy said. “I had to be inside the city. Reconstruction was dangerous. Lots of people got hurt or killed during the first couple years. I was busy.” Her smile slipped. “Too busy.” She looked across the courtyard and sighed. “This place saved my sanity.” She watched the children and sighed again.

A dog started barking across the street. Strident, insistent yaps.

Whimsy’s lips tightened into a line. “C’mon, let’s get you inside and away from prying eyes.”

“You mean before you ask me to murder that dog,” Abbee said.

“It really is annoying.”

The interior of Whimsy’s home felt squeezed, just like its exterior. A narrow staircase headed upstairs right inside the door. Next to it was a narrow hallway leading to the back of the house. To the immediate right was a tiny sitting room. Whimsy gestured at the sitting room. “Make yourself comfortable. I have to ready the spare room.” She trotted upstairs.

Abbee glanced into the sitting room. A small sofa and a chair sat too close together, with a small table set off to the side because it wouldn’t fit between them. A narrow window with a curtain drawn shut. Abbee walked down the hallway and found a kitchen with a small sink and a surprising amount of cupboard and counter space for such a small dwelling. Behind the kitchen was a privy. No back door or window. Abbee left the kitchen and walked back into the sitting room, feeling squeezed, just like the house.

The upholstered chair in Whimsy’s sitting room was a lot more comfortable than Baylor’s. No springs poked Abbee in the back. Whimsy’s sofa was higher on one side than the other. Abbee guessed that Whimsy habitually sat on one end, and the other didn’t get much use. Every surface in the house was neat and orderly, like the neat and orderly infirmary Abbee remembered. Whimsy couldn’t abide clutter, and Abbee was happy that hadn’t changed. She wouldn’t have been able to stay in this place if it had been squeezed and cluttered. It would have been too much.

Something heavy scraped across the floor upstairs. Abbee heard a thump and Whimsy swearing.

“You all right up there?” she called.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Whimsy said. More heavy scraping and more swearing.

“You don’t sound fine,” Abbee said.

“I forgot,” Whimsy grunted, “that I put this dresser in here. It’s heavy.”

“You need a hand?”

“No,” Whimsy said. One more thump. “That’s it.”

She came back downstairs with dust all over her. She pulled off her coat and brushed it off. Draped it on the stairway banister and sat down on the bottom stair. Whimsy pulled off her boots and massaged her feet. “These things really are terrible.”

“You should get different boots,” Abbee said.

“Discount, remember?”

“Don’t skimp on the things that matter.”

Whimsy looked up. “Ipsu used to say that.”

Abbee frowned. It bothered her that she parroted that betrayer. She wanted to change the subject. “You got any food in here?”

“Hungry already?”

“Planning ahead,” Abbee said. “For the morning.”

Whimsy shook her head. “You can get something on the way to the train yards. I don’t really cook in here. I’m at the precinct most of the time, so stuff tends to spoil before I eat it. Not to mention the whole place stinks of whatever I make.” She smiled. “I ate already. I usually eat from the stewpot at the end of my shift. If you want a snack, we can go out to the frosty bread cart on the corner.” Her face brightened. “When’s the last time you had frosty bread?”

Abbee shrugged. “Can’t remember. I don’t know why people get so fired up over it. It’s just—”

“Don’t tell me you like crispy bread.”

“What? No. That’s even worse.”

Whimsy nodded. “Okay, good. I bet you’ve just not had the real thing. If Ipsu never came into Akken, then—”

Abbee rolled her eyes. “Whimsy, I was born here. I’ve had frosty bread before.”

“But you’re all grown up now. My tastes changed as I got older.” Whimsy gave her a piercing look. She opened her mouth and closed it. Stood up, took three steps, and sat down in her spot on the sofa. She leaned back and folded her arms.

“You clearly want to ask me something,” Abbee said, “so just spit it out.”

“You’re nineteen, right?” Whimsy asked.

“Yeah. I’ll be twenty in a couple months. Why?”

“And you’ve been traveling with Ipsu this whole time?”

Abbee nodded. “And?”

“So you were twelve when you started, and you’re nineteen now. Then have you … well—” Whimsy flushed. “Um, well, how did you … uh—”

Abbee knew what Whimsy was asking, but it clearly made the woman uncomfortable, so she didn’t say anything and let that continue. Abbee thought Whimsy was funny, given all the bodily functions and fluids the healer encountered in her work. During her time as the precinct gofer, Abbee had seen plenty of people in the infirmary grow embarrassed whenever Whimsy told them to take off their shirt or trousers so she could examine them. Meat on the table is what Whimsy had said.

“—you, uh, have you ever, well … you know what I’m asking, right?”

Abbee tried to keep a straight face and shook her head. “I really don’t.”

Whimsy sighed. “Have you ever even kissed anyone?”

Abbee laughed. “You’re funny.” She thought about the boys she knew. Sammy, Ipsu, Timm, and a freckled boy who helped his father run a supply shop outside Kiva. She couldn’t remember his name, but he’d told good jokes. Friends and enemies, and whatever Ipsu was. Abbee thought about kissing any of them and shuddered. “No. Gross.”

“Girls?”

“No,” Abbee said.

Whimsy frowned. “You went through your teenage years without kissing a single person?”

“Never came up.”

“And you never wanted to?”

“Not really.”

“So you’re still a, well—”

Abbee chuckled. “Do you ask everyone you know if they’re a virgin?”

Whimsy flushed. “It’s just, well, I’ve never met anyone who, well—”

“Didn’t try to mount the nearest person when they hit sixteen?” Abbee asked. She remembered rebuffing that freckled boy at least three times. The third time had required a knife. When she’d commented on it at the evening fire, Ipsu had said young people had a hard time controlling their urges. Abbee had never had any of those and had no idea what he was talking about. “I’ve never had any interest. In any of it. Dunno why.”

Whimsy looked confused. “You’ve … never, well—”

Abbee smiled. “I’m going to put you out of your misery, Whimsy. I do know what people do together. Lots of yelling. They seem to be happy, but I’m not interested.”

“You remind me of Constable Graysin,” Whimsy said. “She never had any interest either. You’d have liked her. She was grumpy like you.”

“What? I’m not grumpy. You’re grumpy.”

Whimsy chuckled. “So Ipsu never treated you any different when you filled out?”

“You mean these fun things?” Abbee asked, looking down at her chest. “I’m lucky I’m not as big as other girls, but no. And he used my discomfort against me. If anything, the fights only got nastier. Ipsu always said you have to fight when you don’t want to. Sparring was obnoxious until I was able to get a tight shirt. Had to sew my own at one point. The day I started wearing a jerkin was a lifesaver.”

“Well, at least you heal—oh. You said you feel all the pain.”

“That’s right. All of it.”

“What about your moonblood?”

“Never had it,” Abbee said.

Whimsy stared at her. “What?”

“Yeah, with that one I’m not sure what’s happening,” Abbee mused. “But it’s not like I’m complaining about it. That whole business seems really obnoxious.”

“It is,” Whimsy said, nodding. “Never?”

“Never ever. No cramps, no bleeding, nothing.”

“That’s really not fair,” Whimsy complained.

Abbee wanted to change the subject. She didn’t want to talk about all the ways in which she was odd. She didn’t want to talk anymore. It was as if she’d finally run out of words. Her breaths grew short. A tightness spread across her chest. Abbee stood up. “I need the privy.”

Whimsy pointed toward the kitchen. “At the end of the hall, last door on your right.”

Abbee left the sitting room. She didn’t need the facilities. She needed a private space. The city had so few of them. She found the last door on the right and stepped inside. The room was so small that its door opened into the hall. Abbee pulled the door shut and leaned against it. The privy bordered on claustrophobic, but it had to be enough. She needed a space where she could fall apart without anybody looking at her. She focused on her immediate senses. Leaned her cheek against the door, feeling the old wood and smelling the old paint. She breathed in. Out. Slow. The tightness in her chest faded.

This had happened to her before. Twice, and both times in cities. Both after several hours of walking around, taking in the sights and sounds. Abbee had suddenly … crumpled. It was if the world had decided to crush her instead of delight her. In a rare admission, Ipsu had said that it had happened to him sometimes. Some places were too busy. Overstimulating.

With her cheek still against the door, Abbee felt something through the wood. A thump. Vibration, maybe. Footsteps. She was about to open the door when she heard a bang somewhere out toward the front of the house.

Whimsy yelped. “Hey, who’re—” Her voice cut off with a muffled curse.

A strange woman’s voice. “This isn’t the right one. The one we want is back there somewhere.”

“What do I do with her, then?” a man asked.

“No witnesses,” the woman said. “Make it look like—”

Abbee heard footsteps on the other side of the privy door.

The woman raised her voice. “No, stop, Moro. You’re not—she knows you’re coming—”

Abbee threw her weight against the door, pushing it outward into the hall. The door crashed into a dark shape, pinning it against the wall. A man wearing dark brown clothes. He grunted in surprise. Fire wreathed his hands. Abbee noted a leather cuirass covering his chest but not his belly. She yanked a knife from her belt and stabbed him in the soft parts. His grunt turned to a tortured yelp. Abbee stabbed him several times. She hit his groin, and his fire winked out. He screamed. Abbee loosened her grip on the door, backed away, and angled her knife toward the man’s neck. She felt it crunch into cartilage. The man’s scream broke off into a gurgle, and he went down.

Abbee glanced down the hallway. She saw straight to the front door. A woman wearing dark colors stood in the doorway, framed by the night’s darkness behind her. Abbee didn’t wait to find out her talent and flung her knife at her. The woman took it in the face and stumbled backward out the door.

A man’s shout from the sitting room. Abbee yanked out her belt knives and, with a blade in each hand, scuttled down the hall. She kept low. A dark shape appeared in the hall. A man. Abbee felt something grab her about the shoulders, locking her arms in place. Something invisible. The man was a mover. He hadn’t grabbed all of her. Abbee drove her legs forward and crashed into him. The pressure left her shoulders. Her blades flashed. Stabbed him several times in succession. He stumbled back, trying to get away. His foot caught and he fell. Abbee rode him to the floor and opened his belly. Hot blood spurted onto her. The man screamed. Exposed his throat. Abbee rammed a blade up through his jaw and into his brain. His scream died, and so did he.

Movement to her left.

Abbee pushed off the dead mover and hopped up into a crouch. Registered a shape in the sitting room. Brown hair in a ponytail, massaging her neck. Whimsy. No more threats. Abbee walked outside to the woman’s body.

She was dead. Three of them. Three people dead because of Abbee. No, because of them. They came looking for a fight. They’d said no witnesses. If Abbee hadn’t stopped them, they’d have killed Whimsy. It wasn’t the first time Abbee had killed someone, but it was the first time she’d done it on purpose. The drovers in Lencoe had been an accident. With these assailants, Abbee had reacted without hesitation. None whatsoever. She had intended to kill them. As adrenaline sang through her limbs, Abbee wondered what that said about her. Decisive came to her first. Abbee went with that. She retrieved her knife and wiped the blade on the dead woman’s coat.

Steps inside. Whimsy’s voice, sounding stunned. “You … three of them?” She appeared in the doorway and peered outside. “You killed all of them in, what, ten seconds?”

“I got lucky,” Abbee said. “Tight quarters. Who were they?” She nudged the woman’s body with her foot. “This one knew where I was in the house. A telepath or empath.” She gestured at the corpse beside Whimsy. “That one’s a mover, and the one in the back’s a torch. A telepath, a mover, and a torch. They were here for me, Whimsy. They came for me.”

“Baylor,” Whimsy hissed. “That bastard. He sent them to my house.”

“Who are they?” Abbee asked. “Hunters?”

“No,” Whimsy said. “And you’re lucky. If they had been hunters, you’d be dead, not the other way around. No way to know for sure, but I’d bet my pay this month that they work for the university.”

Abbee heard shouts from across the courtyard. “We need to go.” She pushed past Whimsy into the house. Poked her head into the sitting room and saw her pack where she’d left it. She picked it up and shouldered it. “What’s the fastest way out of the city?”

“I’m not running from these bastards,” Whimsy declared. She pulled on her constable jacket and lit off a string of curses. “In my damn house.” She stepped outside. “C’mon.”

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere you’ll be safe.”

“I thought you said I wasn’t safe anywhere in Akken.”

“Yes, well, we’re going straight to the top.”