Jack Noctis, Darius Vasil, and Iset were gathered around Iset’s desk in the library of the Noctis mansion. The air was heavy with too many words, some of them hours old.

But Darius was running out of things to say, and he was glad to be done with it.

“So the lamp has been classified and filed properly.” He closed the file in front of him and dropped his pen on top.

Big Jacky said, without looking up from what he was reading. “How many people know?”

“In the Torr?” Darius asked.

“All together. Ignoring those that no longer have their memories and anyone from this household.”

Darius looked at Iset for confirmation. “No more than ten.”

She nodded.

“Their names are recorded?” Big Jacky asked, still staring down at the paper in front of him.

“Yes,” Darius said. “At the moment there is no vow—”

“Let’s leave it at that. Ten is not many. It’s a small risk.”

Iset said, “Jacky, we could impose a vow.”

At last, Big Jacky looked up. His empty eye sockets rested on the place where the mummy’s face should have been. “Then we would have to apply it to everyone. You understand?”

There was a brief silence.

“Kappa,” Iset whispered.

Darius smirked. “My first thought was Emerra.”

Jacky said while looking down again, “Emerra will never speak of the lamp to anyone outside of those who already know.”

Darius glanced at Iset. He sensed amusement, but she wouldn’t give him even a hint of response. His eyes moved back to Jacky. “You sound certain.”

“She paid a great price and cares too much. She won’t speak lightly of it. I would be surprised if she spoke of it at all.”

Darius frowned and shoved the file to the side. “Perhaps you’re right. Would you like me to talk to her?”

“If it would make you feel better,” Jacky said absently.

The three of them usually found it convenient to hold their longer meetings in the middle of the night, while the world around them slept. Big Jacky had more free time then, Iset rarely rested, and Darius wouldn’t be as tired.

But it had been a long meeting after nearly two weeks of nonstop work, all of it during the day. Iset could sense the vampire’s patience fraying at the edges.

She said quickly, “I’ve heard from the judge. Miss David’s date has been set.”

Jacky flipped the last page of Emerra’s statement on top of the others and looked up. “I apologize, Iset. I know that you’ve been working hard to hurry things through the courts, but I’m afraid we must make an adjustment.”

Darius and Iset exchanged glances this time.

Big Jacky continued without noticing: “There will be no open trial for Miss Davids. She will be heard only by me and the judge.”

Both of Darius’s eyebrows shot up. “You?”

“But her lawyer,” Iset said.

“Has she requested one?” Jacky asked.

“Well, no, but—”

“She’s already pled guilty. We’re only hearing her reasons before giving judgment.”

“But a closed trial—”

“Arrange it,” Big Jacky said.

Iset hesitated, then pulled her pad of paper closer to make a note.

“Mr. Noctis,” Darius said, “is there a reason?”

“Yes.”

Darius waited for more details, but Big Jacky didn’t think to offer any.

“And this reason,” Darius prodded, “did you come across it recently?”

“Very recently.” Big Jacky lifted Emerra’s statement, held the pages loosely in his hands, and tapped them on the desk to straighten them. He set them aside. “There are certain…possible…facts which may come out in her testimony. I would rather they not become public.”

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“The courts already know about the lamp—” Darius started to say.

Jacky spoke over him. His voice wasn’t loud. It never had to be. “It’s not about the lamp.”

Darius looked helplessly over at Iset. She was watching Jacky in that cautious, still way of hers. She was puzzled about something. Or worried. He’d have to ask her about it later.

“Is there anything else?” Big Jacky asked.

Iset raised both her bandaged hands in a shrug and let out a sigh. “No.”

“Then I must go.” Big Jacky stood up from his chair.

Darius kept his eyes on the desk. “Mr. Noctis.”

Jacky turned. “Darius?”

The words came out one at a time, as if the vampire had to fight the urge to stop after each one: “There is one more thing.”

“Go on.”

“I’ve been looking over the numbers included in the resource report—the one that will be sent to the Torrs for reference, in case—”

“I’m aware of what a resource report is, Darius.”

“Are we sure the numbers are correct?”

“As sure as we can be. It’s unfortunate that Miss Davids was there to study the vigiles, rather than the tav lines, otherwise we might have had some reliable measurements.”

“If someone had been measuring the magic,” Iset said, “things would have turned out differently.”

“A fair point,” Jacky admitted. “As it is, our teams and scholars have done their best to gather as much incidental data and evidence as possible. Iset personally oversaw the sifting and comparisons, and the numbers tallied. That’s the best we can do for now.”

“But that’s just it!” Darius said. “Those pieces of data and evidence all tally with Conrad’s statement! His experience is the anchor to the whole project. Everything else—the testimonies of the townspeople, the colors and magic that Emerra saw, everything she witnessed—it’s all based on the assumption that Conrad got lost in the swamp because the amount of undirected magic there was enough to overcome a lycanthrope’s natural resistance.”

Jacky reviewed Darius’s statement in his head before giving his one-word verdict: “Correct.”

Darius leaned forward, putting both elbows on the desk. “Anyone with him should have been affected.”

“Yes.” Jacky turned back to the door. “It’s a wonder that Emerra never thought to ask about that.”

As Darius opened his mouth to speak, he caught sight of a small movement out of the corner of his eye.

Iset was shaking her head. Anyone else would have missed such a tiny motion, but his eyes were keen. She knew that. They’d been working together for a long time.

The count shut his mouth and allowed Big Jacky to leave without comment. When Jacky was gone, Darius relaxed his jaw and sighed through his nose.

He turned to the mummy, “Iset?”

“Yes, Darius?”

The vampire was about to ask something but changed his mind before he’d formed the first word. Instead, he said, “I’ll have to get my laptop if we’re going to finish this tonight.”

“Your laptop…and maybe some coffee?” Iset teased.

“That’s a brilliant suggestion,” he said, as if it had never occurred to him. “Is there anything I can grab for you?”

“No, but thank you. Will you come back here?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“I’d be glad for your company.”

He didn’t smile at her, exactly, but the fine lines at the edges of his eyes bent up as he watched her. He stood up from his chair by putting one hand on the back of it and spinning around with an unconscious flourish. “I’ll be back shortly.”

As soon as Darius passed through the library’s arched doorway, he became aware of a quiet noise coming from somewhere near the main stairs. He focused in on it as he walked. When he realized what it was, his stomach sank.

Japanese.

The sound of that language was becoming familiar to him—along with all the unnecessary shouting and exaggerated sound effects that seemed integral to the shows that Emerra watched.

It was almost four in the morning. The only reason Emerra would be down this early was if her dreams had been bad enough she couldn’t get back to sleep.

Or if she never went to bed in the first place.

If Conrad was with Emerra—and that boy seemed to have an uncanny ability to sense when she got up—he always made sure that she went to bed when she started nodding. But there had been a few times that Darius had gone into the TV room and found the TV still on, the volume only one notch above silent, while Emerra dozed, alone, huddled in the corner of the small couch with her arms wrapped around the throw pillow held to her chest.

Whenever Darius found her like that, he would steal into the room and turn off the TV, hoping that the absence of light and sound might help her sleep peacefully, if only for a few extra minutes.

He would glance in the TV room as he passed.

Emerra was asleep, but she wasn’t alone this time.

Conrad was laying at an angle in the corner of the couch with his feet propped up on one of the ottomans and one arm over the back of the couch. Emerra was laying on his side, under the raised arm, with her head on the crook of his shoulder and her body curled enough to fit her legs onto the small couch. Tucked between her stomach and her arms was Kappa and his raincoat. All three of them were dozing.

Darius watched them over the back of the couch, then smiled and shook his head. He walked over to the TV and turned it off.

When the TV went silent, Darius heard a change in one of the heart rates. He turned and saw Conrad’s eyes shining in the dark.

Conrad greeted the count in a whisper lower than a whisper. It was a vocalization that only the two of them would be able to make out.

“Darius.”

The vampire replied in the same hushed tone, “Good morning. Strange pack you have there, Mr. Bauer.”

Conrad gazed at Emerra and Kappa. He lifted the arm that was across the back of the couch and brought it toward Emerra’s shoulder, but before he touched her, he returned it to the back of the couch.

“Yeah, I know.” He smiled down at them. “And neither of them can hunt worth crap.”

Darius hummed. “Kappa can help if you like fish.”

Conrad let out a grunt to demonstrate his contempt for the suggestion.

“Is she still having nightmares?” Darius asked.

“It wasn’t her this time,” Conrad said. “Kappa came in while we were watching TV and asked if he could stay with us. I planned on putting him back in his nest when he fell asleep, but Emerra said he was too cute to move and promised that she’d put him back when it was time for us to go to bed.”

“And then she fell asleep?”

Conrad nodded.

“And she was too cute to move?”

Conrad didn’t lift his head, but he raised his eyes to shoot a glare at Darius.

The count’s smile was much larger this time. “Come on. I’ll take Kappa. You get Emerra.”

Darius stepped forward, but Conrad shook his head.

“No?” Darius said.

“It’s all right. Let them sleep.”

“Conrad, that can’t be comfortable for you.”

“It’s not as comfortable as a bed, but Emerra’s usually a light sleeper, and I think it’s a felony to wake her if she’s sleeping peacefully.”

Darius put his hands in his pockets and hummed. “Well,” he said, “I can’t be an accomplice to a felony, so I’ll leave you three alone. Good night, Conrad.”

“Good night, Darius.”