#6: Hold up a rattle or sparkly, attention-grabbing toy behind the lens. Sound isn’t caught on camera, so be loud and be proud. Embarrassment is temporary, but the perfect shot will last a lifetime!

The page was crammed with smiling babies that made Rai queasy. In the dim light, with their bald heads and toothless gums, they looked like little old men. Which brought to mind Muka, sans teeth, sans wig, after his fall. Rai could smell the body too, even though it was at least a quarter mile away, locked in the castle. Blood was one thing but death - that stink really lingered.

A fall. Rose. Muka hadn’t survived his drop down the tower. Rai was becoming less and less convinced that Rose had survived hers.

He tore his gaze from the page to stare into the roiling fire. Guy was back at Myrmilion for the rest of the night, but Marinell had come in a few times over the night to check on them, toss a log in. Since Sao was asleep, the manager was mopey and silent. Rai had tried to smile at him and upon locking eyes, Marinell had broken into an outright sprint and fled the room. Rai tried to keep his eyes down after that. He was grateful enough that the fire was still burning for their sakes.

#8: Pop a naughty half an aspirin (the drowsiness-inducing kind) into a pre-photo snack with juice to calm the nerves.

Rai reread that line and checked the cover of the magazine. A family in dingy pastels and crocheted rabbit-ear caps gripped handfuls of dandelions and bared their teeth at him. A springtime costume special. This exact same article was reused in the Fall edition. The aspirin quip had stuck out to him as something that would not have been taken kindly in a Mainline publication.

He knew from experience: for college work-study Rai had done time with the Daily. He learned all about Central’s publication codes not because of the tabloid’s high moral upkeep, but rather the lack of it.

Then known as the Daily Digest, the publication later rebranded into the Daily Informer, then the Daily Star, Daily Update, and so on, in response to a never ending stream of lawsuits. It wasn’t always over violations of privacy or dangerously poor research or outright fiction posing as facts. The senior correspondents went after the dirty city councilors and cops once in a while and sometimes surfaced something meaty. Rai had wondered if the Daily purposely camouflaged their best work with garbage, but the who-fucked-who dreck kept getting the company shuttered anyway. Inside and out, the Daily’s editorial model remained a mystery to him.

In truth, (real truth; not a Daily thinkpiece’s version of it) Rai had found his time with the publication pretty entertaining. But there were always snide comments from good reputable writers if he implied anything along those lines. A journalist amused by the Daily’s standard had to be stupid, evil, or both.

Rai hoped he was just stupid. He hadn’t stuck with journalism.

#12: Promise a visit to their favorite park or restaurant afterward. And follow through!

Rai tossed the magazine onto the low coffee table (a little like the one in his office at home; though his had the tendency to take out people’s shins due to the cramped setup). He eyed Sao, who was slouched over the sofa opposite, head rolled back, eyes shut. The blue coat with a little trim of blood around one sleeve lay on the pillow beside him and the sweater with the braying horse was on full display, rising and falling with his breathing.

The side of Sao’s face closest to the fire was rough. The dark blotch around his eye had a visible outline and a strange dullness, like a fabric masquerade mask. Sao hadn’t mentioned anything on the subject, but Rai suspected he was running out of makeup, paint or powder or whatever it took to make the scars look nonexistent.

Sao looked about as undignified as he had ever been, which was still damn decent. More presentable than a lot of people Rai knew, even at their best. This was probably not something he should say aloud to Sao.

Even though it was a nice thing to say. Well, just because Rai wouldn’t mind being told he looked ‘damn decent,’ it didn’t mean Sao shared his subterranean standards. For all his finicky behaviorisms and what looked (initially, to those who didn’t know its utility) like excessive grooming, Sao was as pragmatic as Cadmus or Rai’s mom. Maybe even moreso.

Sao hadn’t complained at all about being stuck in Temperance. Rai was really starting to wish he would. It would knock Rai’s muddled brain back into shape, hearing even a little pushback, at this point, from someone he trusted. Trusted (he amended quickly) more than the rest of the countryside menagerie they had run across.

Just the two of us. Rai wanted to kick himself. Had he really said that? Even if it was true - which seemed more and more the case - it was overstepping. The line he’d stepped over existed primarily in his own head, which made his sniveling about it doubly idiotic.

Embarrassment is temporary… The article about taking pictures of babies didn’t know what it was talking about.

Know-it-all jerk. Cherry saw right through him. But maybe she knew even more than she was saying. Knew what?

He thought of the roof at the top of the tower, Sao’s photo of it. Cramped and open to the cold. Didn’t seem like a place you’d take a friend. He thought of the sunset and the photo again.

And then he knew it too.

—

A siren howled - growing louder and closer until it seemed bound to collide with him as he –

“Guh?” Sao snorted awake, undignified as he’d ever been.

Rai was zipping up his jacket and angling for a look out a dark window that showed nothing but inky black. “Ambulance is here.” He checked the time on his phone. “Four fifteen in the morning. Took a while.”

“Th… that’s an understatement. Thomi called in the afternoon.”

Rai gave him a scathing look. “Yeah, so I called this one. On the hotel phone, an hour and a half ago.”

Sao rubbed his eyes and failed to conjure a real response. “Huh?”

“I didn’t like the thought of the body lying there until we left. Or trusting the people in this town.”

The sudden venom burned through the haze enfolding Sao’s thoughts. “You don’t think she called.”

“As Cherry said: lies as far as the eye can see. Come on.”

—

In the twilight, the pearl stone facade of Myrmilion shone like glazed celadon. In the front drive by the fountain, a sturdy woman with cropped hair was in negotiations with an inconsolable Thomi. Floating in the ocean of mist was an ambulance, its siren off, back doors open, with additional medics standing by with the stretcher.

Rai pulled up to the lot slowly. Sao wasn’t quite used to his newfound restraint with the accelerator. Somehow, it made the drive even more nerve wracking.

But that may have also been due to the state of the car. The overlarge tires made an awful lot of noise and spat dirt at their feet through some (well, more than just some) pre-existing gaps in the framework. Rai had punched out the remaining glass of the broken back window and the upholstery was heavy with damp.

The paramedics were rather alarmed by their appearance.

“They can’t take him, please,” Thomi said. “Tell them - we’re not ready.”

“Why? Same reason why you didn’t call the ambulance when I asked?” Rai retorted. Her mouth tensed and she turned away from him.

A row of the tall arched windows above them poured down amber light. Over the sills, between long white curtains, Sao saw several small faces.

“Where will you be taking the body?” Sao asked the paramedic.

“Garland’s the closest hospital.” The woman’s brow furrowed. “Did you say body? We got a call about someone injured in a fall, but alive. A faerie man, right? What happened?”

“He passed away a while ago,” Rai said, pulling the medic aside, or trying to. She didn’t budge so Rai went on through gritted teeth, in full view of Thomi and the other medics. “I confirmed it - I mean, I moved the body out of the cold, but I wasn’t sure at the time if he was…”

Liars as far as the eye could see, indeed. The short-haired medic was no fool, but Sao had enough faith that Rai wasn’t one either. He cleared his throat.

“We were all in a panic,” Sao said. “He was holding out hope that we checked the wrong spot for a pulse, or something, that Muka might recover. Muka was the name of the man who fell - principal of this place, so we didn’t want to jump to conclusions and upset the children.” He leveled a careful glance from Rai, to Thomi. “And we should really have called earlier.”

“The circumstances are a little suspicious,” Rai said. Thomi buried her face in her hands.

The paramedic had thawed slightly, but still did not look impressed with the whole operation. “I’m a little confused - do you all work here?”

“She does. I don’t. I’m an investigator. I was passing through the area on an assignment from Mainline police and decided to stay a few nights in Temperance. Actually, we got lost and needed a tyre change.” Rai drew out the wallet with his badge, put it back, and motioned at Sao. Wondering what to do with him. “He’s a colleague.”

“Alright. Something suspicious about the accident, you said?” The paramedic cracked some gum Sao hadn’t known she was chewing. The sound was like a gunshot. “Mainline Police doesn’t have much say around here.”

“I realize that. But I was made aware of a few missing Core-Mainline residents that might be relevant…”

Rai managed to usher the head medic in the building. Following her came two more figures in uniforms, carrying a stretcher. Thomi’s defenses were shattered. She held the door open for them and took them to the main staircase. She only followed the stretcher part way up to the third floor, unable to take herself any further.

“Thomi,” Sao said slowly, “did you really call the ambulance when we first came to see the body?”

“Yes! I don’t know why it didn’t come quicker. Maybe I didn’t speak clearly enough, maybe I didn’t even check if there was anyone on the other end. I don’t know. Really.”

It was enough acknowledgement for him - in any case, after a few hours, she’d have known the call hadn’t gone through. Sao didn’t feel a need to rub it in. He was too tired. Perhaps his face said enough without words. His pot of foundation hadn’t held enough for a four-day trip.

“Are you alright?” she asked, timidly.

“I’m fine. Skin condition’s breaking out. And you? What was it you meant by not being ready?”

The stretcher was coming back down, something small in the middle, covered in a white sheet. Sao realized the two holding it were women.

They paused somewhat awkwardly on the steps and let Sao pull up the sheet. He found himself relieved to see Muka underneath, despite the caking of blood, the battered face. Somehow, he’d expected the body to disappear, be magicked away, to leave them maddened with confusion. But this wasn’t one of Cherry’s faerietales. This was the blood and guts she had said came with real death. Cherry had more sense than any of them after all.

He feared for Rose.

Thomi tugged at her long hair, pacing along the landing. “It’s going to be the same disaster again. Rose… disappearing. I should go to the hospital with him but I can’t, I can’t leave the kids. Even if Guy is here, I couldn’t do that to him… oh god, I have to wake him up. He’ll be so upset.”

“Perhaps Guy can go.”

“With the ambulance? He’d… he’s very mature, but he’s just a child himself.”

“You’re right. Then we can go,” Sao said, thinking of Rai’s damp seats and broken window.

Right on cue, Rai came stomping up the stairs. “We’re not going anywhere. The EMT has my contact info, the school and the hotel’s. And she agrees that the principal’s accident is suspect given the big picture. She doesn’t remember picking up a little girl, or anyone else from this school, anytime in the past month.”

Thomi was silent, icy sheet of hair quivering. By way of distraction, Sao directed them back down the stairs. The dormitory hall on the second floor seemed oddly empty.

They watched the ambulance load the stretcher in the back without much difficulty. Rai went on. “EMT responses for this area go to Garland’s National Memorial Hospital. According to the lady I spoke to, medics on the 8pm-6am shift are women. So an ambulance of men taking away Rose becomes even more suspect.”

“But I saw them,” Thomi said, in nearly a whisper.

“I’m not sure I believe you, but Lumi saw ‘men’ too, so…” Rai shoved his hands in his pockets. “If you’re all telling the truth, then Muka might be responsible for the setup, since he called the ‘ambulance’ for Rose. Whatever the case is, things don’t look good for Rose.”

“So you mean you believe Lumi?” came a shrill voice from above.

“Because I’m telling the truth!” came one even shriller.

Lumi and Cherry came tumbling down the carpeted stairwell, Cherry obviously the one with the upper hand. She had Lumi by the wrists, two in one of her hands, and in the other hand, the book raised like a cleaver. “But I was right! Something bad did happen to Rose! And I know you’re hiding something, you always think you can get away–”

Guy, a tumble of hair, limbs and wild eyes, came careening around the corner into the landing and peeled the two off each other and put himself between them. “Come on, no fighting in front of the guests. Lumi, I expected better. Cherry, you really gotta stop-” He let her arm go quickly. “Gentlemen? They took him?”

Rai nodded. “They had to.”

Guy’s smile was fragile. “I– I guess so.” A whimper from Lumi alerted him to the blood beginning to speckle the floor. He hadn’t managed to stop the fight before Cherry had cut Lumi’s lip.

“Please, Guy,” Thomi said, “can you take Lumi to the infirmary? Cherry, I can’t…” she shook her head. “Leave them to it. I’d like you to wait in your room. Please don’t run off, though I suppose I can’t stop you.”

The words were sapped of all previous affection.

“I can watch her if you’d like. There’s something I want to ask her anyway,” Rai said. “I think I have an answer to some of her–”

“No.” The sudden steel in Thomi’s voice shot Rai down in an instant. The children also shrank back, Guy’s hand tightening around Lumi’s. Something in her had changed, but it was gone - or rather, hidden - the next moment. Her eyes softened, watery and black and consuming. “Not now. Cherry - go. I’d like to speak to the two gentlemen first.”

—

“I don’t know Muka’s computer password, but I never saw him use the machine much. The binders will have any important details.” She seated herself in the principal’s chair, knitting her fingers together. “This is what you asked to see yesterday, isn’t it?”

They were in the office with its fascinating layer-cake walls and cushioned damask carpet and glass ornaments. Only, its owner was no longer with them, and only leaving a conspicuous metallic smell coming from the recently-vacated sofa.

They all tried not to look at it. Thankfully, there was plenty to distract them on the desk. Thomi had brought out the files for each of the children.

“It’s against policy, but I think there’s enough justification,” she murmured.

Rai turned over each of the folders, glanced up. “This is just for the kids who are here now?”

“If you have the names of others who may be relevant...”

“I don’t. This will work.”

Eyes honed like lasers, Rai began burning through the contents of the folders. The sound of paper flapping and falling washed over them. Sao had seen Rai at work before; he could blow through hundreds of pages without stopping, from dusk until dawn, into the following day and beyond. For one who did not have to sleep, overtime became a hobby.

As was the case when he watched Rai work in the office, Sao felt exhausted by the sight, the flashing wrists and furrowed eyebrows, the flurry of sound almost like rainfall.

Thomi sat in Muka’s fine leather chair, rocking ceaselessly. She was wearing the dove grey coat she had been wearing the first time they saw her.

“Did you manage to get any sleep?” Sao asked.

“How could I?”

“Hey.” Rai slapped down a folder with an echoing snap. “The handwritten stuff isn’t my forte. Why don’t you take a look?” The folder slid toward Sao, sheets coming free at the edges. He caught them before they fell to the floor and carefully pushed everything back in place.

Thomi’s large eyes tracked his every motion. “You’re a cop too, then.”

“I’m an assistant. On loan from the archivist team - I do a lot of transcriptions for handwritten reports.” He smiled, and she did not smile back. He couldn’t blame her - even if she were well rested, their conduct that morning had not exactly warmed any hearts.

“Florien’s records are as expected,” Rai said. “Single parent; the hotel manager. Payments on time… so he’s a sixth grader now and enrolled three years ago. We learned that much from Cherry.”

Thomi chewed the inside of her cheek. When she saw Sao glance her way, she swiveled off.

Rai held a sheet up to the light. “He has a couple doctor’s notices for… sensory processing disorder. This one’s from not long after he entered Myrmilion.”

“We have supporting experts from Garland and elsewhere who assess these sorts of conditions,” Thomi said.

“Yeah? That’s a good thing,” Rai muttered. “Okay, so this next pile’s on Tal or Talus. Contact’s his aunt in C-South. He’s fifth grade - held back a couple years in his past schools. The note here says he was expelled from multiple schools for violence.”

“Hode mentioned something along those lines,” Sao said.

“Hode.” Thomi drew the name out in bile. “That gossip monger. He likes shock and scandal. No sensitivity for the children at all.”

“I could see they weren’t fond of him,” Sao said.

“He generalizes everything, thinks of children’s mistakes as if they were adult crimes. His own family can’t even stand him,” Thomi said, quietly. “For a policeman, he never considers environments, circumstances. Tal was in overcrowded city schools before he was turned over to his aunt. The kind with both primary and upper levels on a single campus. He simply defended himself and his friends.”

Sao took the folder from Rai. A letter from Tal’s aunt detailed four incidents on a single page. A brawl with two seniors, strangling a student’s older brother, and a punch-out with a teacher. On the flip side, the list continued. “He only fought with those bigger than he was.”

“From what I’ve seen, the kid’s pretty laid-back otherwise,” Rai said, kicking back into one of the heavy upholstered chairs and leafing through a third folder. “Protective of his buddy Cal. Calidore, another fifth grader. They enrolled at the same time, fall of two years ago. Cal has no diagnoses, and never been in a fight in his life from the look of this.”

As if he couldn’t believe such a child existed, Rai flipped the pages back to front and back again. Once again, Sao almost wanted to comment on the lack of decorum. But instead, he settled into the visitors’ chair next to Rai’s, and rested the folder flung at him on top of the others in his hands. “Very good grades. He wrote his own application letter. Quite eloquent for someone - at the time - in third grade.”

“He intentionally picked a school far from his family in Garland. Too many kids under one roof, according to him, and he couldn’t get enough reading done. It bothers him enough that he picks the student dorms over going home for midterm breaks. No offense to the school, of course.”

Rai smiled meanly and Sao had to wonder, at this point, if he was trying to get them removed from the office.

“Cal is an exemplary student,” Thomi said.

“I believe it.” Rai took up another folder, frowned. “Muka showed us a little of this one already. The missing Rose. Just one letter from the parents - just assuming the school would take her in. How does that work?”

“Muka did manage to phone the mother twice upon receiving the application. There was no question that we would take her once everything was in order.” Thomi took the folders from Sao and arranged them in a row, tenderly, like they were flowers. “I was there the day she arrived. A cab from Garland simply pulled up with a confused driver and child in the backseat. She had her luggage and money for the trip, but otherwise seemed a bit dazed. You can get a sense of the parents from that - we couldn’t just send her back.”

“Well, for total nonentities, her parents always wired tuition in on time. On the dot at the start of the month each term. Look at the timestamps on this thing - like clockwork.”

“Automated, perhaps?” Sao asked.

“Could be.” Rai set down the folder, and instead of picking up another, crossed his arms over the table. “I’m curious about Rose, though. The principal and kids said that she was mature, maybe even a little tricky. Tell me again what you saw happen the night that she fell and got taken away in that ambulance.”

“Lord. This, again?” Thomi drew her hair back, exposing her wan face in full. Her eyes looked alarmingly large and tired. “You’ve already seen so many holes in the story, I’m sure I’ll only wind up creating more. I may not be thinking straight.”

“Do what you can.”

“Muka used to say that quite a bit.” She smiled, her mouth thin as a thread on a face flooded by watery brown eyes. “Though I’m not sure how fondly I should be thinking of him knowing he arranged the ambulance and… forget it. That night, I was out on a grocery run, so the principal was here alone with the children until dark. I returned around midnight to find Muka and Cherry in a terrible panic, Cherry having reported Rose falling from the tower. And-”

“What was Rose doing at the time she fell?”

“Cherry said she was stargazing.”

“Did you know that was a hobby of hers? And did she go up to the tower a lot?”

“Not that I know of. She wasn’t supposed to be up there at that time of night. But Rose did have, as you said, something of a… devious mind.” Thomi gave the word some thought and flushed, faintly around already red-rimmed eyes. “She was very observant, and an excellent writer, which you probably heard from Cherry. But when it came to personal matters, she put on a mask. When she first arrived there was a spate of teasing, but she was so aloof that no attempts to bully could last. She was rather opaque. Most children, you can tell when they’re proud, upset, or planning a surprise, even if you don’t know what it is.”

“I get it. Being devious only works if you can deceive in the first place.” Rai set a hand against his chin. “So you can’t say whether a secret stargazing session was in-character or not.”

“She had binoculars with her when she fell. And a blanket was found on the roof. The binoculars are here, I think.” Thomi went for the heavy wood cabinet behind the desk. “And we have her belongings from her room. Only clothes and schoolbooks, and a few paperbacks.”

The binoculars, black metal wrapped in cotton, were set on the table. Thomi backed away after unwrapping it; she did not seem keen on touching the thing directly with her fingers, or even looking at it. The hinge was broken and the barrels warped, eyepieces pointing nearly ninety degrees from each other. The wrapping cloth was spotted with dirt and several more ominous, mauve stains.

Sao felt he had to look away before long too. Rai did not. “So you picked these off Rose’s body.”

“Rose was alive. And it was Muka who found these - I put Cherry to bed, and he went out to see Rose. He came back with these, then I went out to stay with her while he called the ambulance. It wasn’t until later that we checked the tower-”

“Because Lumi saw the ambulance ‘men’ taking away Rose and got worked up. Giving the ambulance two hours to get here, if what took her was an ambulance, that would mean she was last seen by more than one witness, was around two in the morning.”

“I suppose.”

“And you saw Rose after her fall - did it look like she had been there since midnight?”

“I don’t know. She looked awful. This is all so strange…”

And on that note, Rai went for the final folder on the desk. “Rose was kind of a mysterious kid, but Cherry isn’t so much that. We assume Cherry was up in the tower with Rose at the time she went stargazing, because she reported the fall, right?”

“Cherry was very attached to Rose,” Thomi said. “She never liked being in the tower much, but she never liked reading or writing much either until Rose came along. And I’ve known her since she was in second grade.”

Rai cracked open the folder. “Second grade - of all the kids staying over the midterm, she’s been here the longest. The longest continuously, since her parents dropped her off and never came back. Got a few letters here excusing themselves from conferences… and a bunch requesting she stay for the summer. They really never came back for her.”

Thomi just shook her head, silently.

Reluctantly, Sao added, “I heard there was an incident at home.”

“More than one. Fights at school. And the big one with her sister, yes. But Cherry was only seven at the time!” Thomi slammed her hands on the desk with a sharp clap that made Rai spring from his seat. “Seven. She doesn’t remember why or how it happened. All she knows is that her family abandoned her over something she couldn’t control, and though she puts on a brave front, she’s terrified of losing those around her, especially by her own hand.”

Cautiously re-seating himself, Rai filtered through the remaining sheets. “She never got assessed by your psychiatrists.”

“She didn’t want it, and neither did the parents.” Thomi swiveled away from them again. “It’s not right to force a child into such treatment before they’re ready. And with parents… there’s even less choice.”

“So there was never even a cursory check? Or did she fight it? She’s a hell of a fighter.” When Thomi shot him a mortified look, Rai closed the folder. “Sorry to bring this up again, but we can’t leave without talking to her.”

“Anything you can tell her, you can say to me,” Thomi said.

“Then you can be there too. I think she’d appreciate the support. But she’s the one who came to me with the case, she’s the one who’s owed an explanation. Plus, if we skipped town on her for real, she’d be after my head for the rest of my life.”

Thomi did not acknowledge the joke. Her small mouth hung open. “You’ve figured something out.”

“Yeah. Something.” Rai folded his arms again and looked out the windows of the office. A languid purple dawn was breaking over the hills.

—

Sao’s head was whirling. He struggled to catch up with what he’d heard. The case was closed? They were leaving? While he loitered on his chair like a lump, Rai was on his feet, arranging the folders, face carved in stone. Thomi stowed the bent binoculars back in their drawer and re-tied the belt of her coat.

“Wait,” Sao said. “What about Lumi?”

They looked at him as if he’d just sprouted from the ground. Rai’s gaze stung, but Thomi’s made him feel as if he were drowning.

“We saw all the children’s files but Lumi’s.”

“Right…” Rai frowned and swung his eyes to meet Thomi’s. They stared at each other. Sao imagined that if he stood where those stares met he would have been vaporized.

Unfortunately, in her exhaustion Thomi could not overcome the unblinking glare of an interrogator who did not even sleep. “I forgot, I must have dropped that file,” she said. Which may well have been the case, as she quickly located the single loose folder on the counter under the binder shelves, and brought it to them.

Rai pressed the corner of the folder against Sao’s chest. He took it with a flicker of irritation. There was another twinge of it as Rai left him with the stack of papers and strode to the door.

“Shouldn’t we finish with our reading first?” Sao asked.

A hand on the sliding door, Rai stiffened. Sao wasn’t overly afraid of a fight - but Rai only nodded, mostly to himself, and turned. His eyes fell to the carpet. “Yeah. You’re right.”

Thomi, very much the stand-in principal now, observed them with what Sao thought looked like faint amusement.

They soon realized why. They read Lumi’s contact information over once, then again, heads moving in unison. They looked from the page, to Thomi.

“Are you…?” Rai began. Electrified, he gripped one half of the folders, narrowed his eyes at the page again. “What – adopted?”

“I assure you that’s not the case. If you take a blood test…”

And she held out her hands as if they could cut into her for a sample right away. With a ragged breath, Rai weighed their options, pushed back his straggling hair and dropped the folder back on the table. “This is all a distraction, isn’t it? Cherry comes first. But we’ll have to talk to you later.”

Thomi, water in the diaphanous light streaming through the window behind her, graced them with a small smile. “I thought so.”

—

The four of them - Rai, Sao, Thomi and Cherry - huddled by the doorway leading out to the top of the tower. The sun was taking its sweet time rising from behind the mountains that were in turn far behind the treeline. Sao envied the distance, the languor of the landscape. He didn’t want to be here.

Cherry yawned, wrapped her coat around her pajamas. Without her book, she seemed diminished somehow, vulnerable to the morning cold.

“Cherry,” Rai said. “My friend and I are going to have to go soon. You might have heard someone broke into my car the other night.”

“Wasn’t me.”

“I know. You would have hung around.”

Cherry smiled, sleepily.

“I’ll be reporting Rose missing, since I didn’t actually find her. I’m sorry.” Rai really did look heartbroken. “But from what I’ve seen here, there’s a nonzero chance she’s already dead.”

All the languid drowsiness fell from her as if she had been upturned. She grasped at the front of her coat as if feeling for her book, and upon finding nothing, turned to Thomi, eyes welling with tears. “Why?”

“I’m going by what you said, for one. To make it clear, I don’t blame you - I just think you were right when you told us on day one, that everyone else was lying when they said Rose was okay.” Rai rested a leaden stare at her and moved her out of the stairwell. She followed him to the rim of the tower’s roof.

Sao trailed behind. Thomi remained inside, thin fingers curled around the doorframe.

“I’ve also been thinking of the other things you said when we met,” Rai said, tone suddenly low, “and something stuck out to me.” He pointed a gloved hand at the rising sun. “You led by asking me what I’d do if my friend disappeared while we were watching the sunset. Why did you say that?”

Cherry stiffened.

In the next instant, Rai’s hand had dropped to the stone battlements. He rested his elbow so he could look over the wall and down. “I’m curious. When your sister fell, what happened? Did anyone see?”

“Rai…” Sao said. His warning was lost to the wind.

Cherry slammed her back against the wall beside Rai, arms folded tightly. “Duh, they saw. It was on camera. Our house had tons of them. The security guy saw it instantly and everyone came running. If it was me who got pushed, I bet they’d let me lie there and drown in my own blood.”

“Everyone’s up to no good. But the ones who get punished are the ones unlucky enough to be seen. The ones with bad timing.”

“Yeah. You gotta strike first or strike smarter. Or be the adult. Mom hit me across the face and I lost a tooth.” Cherry brought a hand up, thought better of it, and tucked it back into her armpit. “They said my sister had a good chance of waking up. But everyone still likes her even in a coma, and she has everyone doing everything for her. Makes me wish I was the one who got knocked out.”

“Because they’d care for you more.”

“Can’t talk, can’t eat, can’t move - I bet mom would love to have two daughters like that.”

Their silence was sliced by a soft whistling. The wind was coming through the spyholes in the parapet wall.

“Not gonna lie here, either,” Rai said. “Your parents sound pretty lousy. Family is supposed to love unconditionally, and all that. They made you, after all.”

“Did - does your mom love you?”

“Hm. She’s alive, and I know for a fact she’ll outlive me. As for your question: maybe. But she’s a little strange.” He set an elbow on the dip in the wall. “She dropped me a lot when I was a baby.”

“Explains why you’re like the way you are, then.”

Rai smirked. They looked like casual colleagues, making small talk beside a water cooler made of stone. Sao felt vaguely displaced.

And with the next breeze, Rai’s smile faded. “You shouldn’t say that. Even if someone’s head is full of big red dents.”

Sao nearly yelped. Cherry, the stronger of them, just looked at her slippers.

“Would you say the principal cared about you more than your parents?”

“Yes. Obviously.” Her comfort was seeping away.

“And Miss Thomi? I can see myself that she cares a lot. And what about Rose?”

Her unbrushed hair lifted and fell; ruffled petals in the breeze.

Rai folded his arms, mirroring her. “I’m a lot older than you, so I can’t understand exactly how things were. But I do know what it’s like to have a whole lot of years where it seems like nothing worked out. Where it seemed like nobody was there for you and everyone was a liar or incompetent. I also get that when you find a person who fits that empty space - or who you want to fit - it’s like a miracle.” He frowned. “When you’re older, you lose track of years - that moment, that kind of friend, the years of loathing that they haul off your back - it’s a game-changer. But it’s gotta be hard work for them, huh?”

At this, Cherry flicked her marsh blue eyes to Sao, inspected him with all her might, and decided Rai must be talking about someone else. Or out of his ass. “You don’t get it at all. She was my only friend for years. Even you… even you must have had someone. You’re at least half-sure your mom loved you…”

“I just wonder what Rose was actually thinking, the last time you saw her.”

“Why is this about what she was thinking? What about-”

“What about you?” Rai turned to face her head-on, and spoke clearly. “What were you thinking when you pushed her off the tower?”

Cherry’s voice cracked and died.

“I don’t need an exact reason. Someone you hold in really high regard; who gives you hope; who seems like they’re the one good thing in a universe of shit, suddenly does something… not so great. All that comes crashing down, now she’s worse than the others because the others were at least honest in their hate. It makes you see red. Everything is over in an instant.”

“Rai, that’s enough,” Sao snapped. This time, Rai heard it. He had slowly been sinking to his knees. At Sao’s prompting he stood again, shakily.

Cherry was still sitting, back against the rough stone wall. “It wasn’t the same as my sister. I never really got mad at Rose until then. She was always the perfect friend. Like a big sister and girlfriend at the same time. I never had a reason to get mad.”

Then she stood too, dusting the back of her pants.

“I don’t know why she wanted to watch the sunset from the tower, we can’t even see over the walls really. And she got so interested in looking around with her binoculars. She wouldn’t share them with me, and she wouldn’t even talk to me. She told me to be quiet when I asked! And then she climbed up here.” Cherry touched the edge of one of the raised portions of the wall. “So I told her it was dangerous, which was true, and she still ignored me. I pushed her because I got mad - if she hadn’t been trying to look over the wall...” Here came one of her brutal scowls. “Someone should have seen her.”

“Besides you?” Rai raised a brow. “Not if it was night and you were stargazing after hours. But whatever happened up in the tower between you two happened earlier - at sunset. You didn’t tell anyone what happened until you absolutely had to. And by then, it was almost midnight and Rose had been lying there for at least four hours.”

“I…” Cherry bit her lip. A line of blood trickled down her chin. “I was stupid. I stayed in the tower a while, then I went inside. I thought someone would see her there at the bottom. I waited and waited and when I finally told Muka, I couldn’t just tell him I left her there for ages!”

“Yeah. This time, you lucked out. But you didn’t want to. It was daylight, but nobody saw. This place has no cameras. She didn’t make any noise. Nobody came running.”

“Thomi was supposed to be doing afternoon supervising! She never goes shopping so late. And the boys. If it hadn’t been just a little bit colder than normal, they would have been sitting outside and seen. If anyone had been acting normal, Rose might-”

“She might still be alive? What I said earlier was a guess - like I said, we haven’t found a body, so....”

“I used up all my luck on something that stupid. No wonder nobody wants to be my friend. I guess you’ll have to take me away and lock me up for attempted murder.”

Rai cleared his throat. “I’ve told you I can’t arrest anyone, and I don’t really want to make things worse than they are. I believe it was an accident. Further action would be up to Rose’s parents, but as far as I can tell, they don’t exist. Otherwise it’s up to the school - and they’ve more or less made their intentions clear.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“The ambulance story didn’t add up - we learned from the EMTs this morning that it’s unlikely Rose was taken to the Garland hospital at all. Whatever happened to her, Muka would be the one who organized it. Miss Thomi might have gotten roped in too, and whatever he staged managed to trick Lumi. I think the principal tried to cover up what happened. Maybe for the school’s reputation. Or, if he knew it was you, he might have done it to keep it a secret and protect you.”

It was this which broke the dam. Despite the indignant chin, the fists braced for a fight, her tears began to flow. “And now he’s gone. I should have been nicer to him. I was never good enough to him and he was always better than my dad…”

With an awkward pat on the shoulder, Rai pulled her towards the wall, to distract her with the sunrise. The rivulets of tears running down her face gleamed, like cracks filled with gold. Sao saw no evil, only hurt.

But Rai wasn’t done yet. He gestured for Sao to join in the viewing, and muttered, almost kindly, down to Cherry, “You mentioned before, but I want to ask you again - Rose was the one who wanted to come up here to watch the sunset, right?”

Sniffling, Cherry set her arms over a lower portion of the wall. “Yes. It was stupid. We can see perfectly fine from downstairs.”

“She climbed up on this wall to watch it with her binoculars?”

“I said that, didn’t I?”

Sao frowned at this. “The wall has these strategic gaps she could have used. Castles have these so soldiers could look out of the battlements without being exposed.”

“Well she did at first, but she wanted to look over the wall.” Cherry rubbed her tears off. Now that Sao was watching, she had to look fierce. “I don’t think she was watching the sunset at all, really. She was sort of looking down. Probably spying on someone.”

Rai cut in. “You didn’t go down after she fell?”

“No. I couldn’t, I didn’t want–” The savage look she had leveled at Sao wavered.

“I get it. But you’re getting it now, too. Rose saw something happening on the ground. Could be an additional reason for the principal to want a coverup.” Now he was hitting Sao with his own trademark glare. “And from what we’ve heard, Rose was a pretty smart kid. If she picked up a secret, she’d know how to use it.”

It clicked for Sao. “She spoke with the woman who went missing around the same time. That woman was a writer, known for writing about faeries. She could have been searching for a story or learned something while doing research, and used Rose to spy on Muka.”

“The weird glasses lady?” Cherry asked. “But she was yelling about her kid.”

Rai nodded. “And Muka wasn’t cooperating. He might have known her - maybe she was someone he was warned about. So she could have come here for revenge.” He exhaled and his look lightened. “These are all theories right now, so please don’t go telling everyone. It will make me look like an idiot when I’m wrong.”

Cherry grinned. It was an honest grin. Dribbling tears and mucus; how else could it be taken?

“Whatever happened, I don’t think Rose came to see the sunset in the first place,” Rai said. He turned from the sun and faced the opposite direction, at the enclosure that contained the stairs. Thomi was framed in the doorway, her hair whipping in the wind like iridescent streamers.

She ducked out of sight, disquieted by whatever look Rai was giving her. “We can see a pretty good sunrise from this tower,” he said, “but the view is totally blocked to the west. It’s the worst possible place to see the sun set.”

—

Thomi locked the tower door and without a word took them back to the dormitory hall, where Guy was holding an impromptu game of football (using a wad of paper and two wastebasket goals) with the boys. All were still in their pajamas; Guy in a borrowed Myrmilion ensemble accented with his green velour slippers.

“Guy, it’s nearly time for breakfast,” Thomi called.

He saluted crisply and chased the boys back into their rooms, telling them to rush their morning showers. The joviality dropped the moment the hall cleared. “Oh god. What happened? Was there another accident?”

“No, no, everything’s calmed down.” Thomi dabbed her eye with her sleeve and put her hands on his jittering shoulders. “The gentlemen were giving an update on the investigation. Rose hasn’t been found, but they’ll be reporting her missing, officially. Cherry was quite upset.”

Cherry had Rai’s arm in her grasp and was yanking him toward her room as if he were a rebellious pony. Lumi, uniform and towel in hand, watched them battle it out with a certain hopelessness. If a full grown man couldn’t hold her off, what chance did Lumi ever have?

Guy nodded, curls bobbing. “Everything is being made official. Got it. I’m sorry if our business ruined your trip, gentlemen. Actually, this all reminds me - I gotta check in with Marinell.” Now his hands were on Thomi’s shoulders, though he had to stretch a little to do so. “Let me hop on over while the kids shower. I’ll grab some eggs and mushrooms too and we can have omelettes.”

Thomi glanced at Sao. Despite her earlier coldness, their promise to talk was not forgotten.

With a little undulating wave to untangle his fingers from her hair, Guy hopped aside to face Sao too. His look could not have been more different from hers. “Oh, yeah, that was rude of me. Do you guys want to come back and eat at the hotel, or do you wanna eat with the kids here?”

“We can stay–”

Rai was ejected from Cherry’s room with a swift shove.

“Thanks. I guess,” Cherry called from within.

“Oooh, Cherry likes older guys,” came Cal’s singsong from across the hall.

“Don’t kick a guest,” Florien said.

Cherry emerged from her doorway radiating murderous intent. Thomi ran to her side while Guy herded the boys toward the stairs for their morning shower.

Sao caught Rai’s eye. One hand held rather tightly in his pocket, Rai tipped his chin toward the stairs. They had something else to discuss.

“You’ve got your hands full here. We’ll grab something to eat elsewhere,” Sao said.

“Dinner,” Thomi said breathlessly, before they’d started down the stairs. She jogged behind them, grasped the bannister. “We still need to talk. We can do so over dinner - no more interruptions and no running away. Marinell won’t ask questions. Let’s meet at the Saturn, at six this evening.”

They had to resign themselves as Marinell would have. There wasn’t time for questions, because as soon as she finished speaking she had to run back upstairs, where Cherry had cornered Lumi and Cal and was attempting to flog them with a towel.

—

Rai hurried them out of Temperance. The journey was filled with the squelching of the tires, the whoosh of wet, tacky air whipping in through the missing window, and Rai’s heady silence. The fields were as foggy as Sao’s mind, some terrible tension building in their unseen borders. He felt like his head might explode.

The pressure subsided, just a little, when they hit paved roads again. Their phones buzzed as service returned. Civilization. But the enchantments of Temperance still lingered, and only when they parked did Sao feel like he could breathe again. He felt not a hint of his usual drowsiness.

The Carousel Mall had not yet opened for the day.

In another reversal of habit, Rai made no indication he cared about getting his morning coffee or not. He unzipped his jacket and brought out a squashed purple notebook and circular zippered pouch of the same shade.

“Cherry shoved this in my jacket.” He passed the notebook to Sao. “Rose’s stuff. Cherry nabbed them before they cleared Rose’s room out after the little ‘ambulance’ debacle. Of course, she only had the chance to do it because she reported the accident so late.” He let out a sigh, not one of his little shows of annoyance, but total deflation. He looked depleted of energy, of color, and on his last dregs of sympathy. “I don’t know what to do with her. I don’t want to see her locked up, but she’s got a real fucking mean streak. Someone has to get her under control before it’s too late, unless it already is.”

“Rai,” Sao cautioned.

“I know. Not my monkeys, not my circus.”

“Yet… you sound a little impressed.”

“I guess I am.” Rai pushed his greasy strands back and pulled a tight smile. “She put us on a case where she was the culprit. Well, one culprit anyway. So, what did she reward us with?”

The notebook exuded an air of deja vu. It was the purple pad Rose had shielded when Cherry took her photo. More than that, the loose leaves and tabs tucked into it made it look much like Cherry’s mangled, overstuffed tome. Sao opened it with care. Filling the first four pages were a meticulous list of names, bulletpoint descriptors and contact information. The very first two he recognized as her parents, though it was only by the names - their top descriptors were 'vf paralegal' and 'mt treasurer' with years, presumably when they joined their respective companies.

“Maybe she's got other family contacts in there,” Rai said, looking over his shoulder. “Although, it's going to be hard to tell with her labelling them by job instead of something more personal.”

“We know her parents are rather insular, perhaps she was warned to conceal their relation?”

“Who knows. I call my mom by her name sometimes.”

Sao peeled back a folded sheet that was taped to the following page and let it drop as if he’d been burned. It was a page was headed with several familiar elements - the shield emblem of the Core Cities police, followed by the plaque that indicated the archives. He gingerly ran a finger under the list of items printed below. “Umbrella. Wallet. Hard drive - this is the list of items we collected from Birdsing.”

Without hesitation, Rai tugged the page free from its tape and gave it a thorough scan, stopping at the very bottom edge where a date was printed. “It’s from last year. Like a week after the inventory was filed.” He set it on the dashboard. “Rose must have been in contact with the investigator Charm mentioned. The one who requested a look at the contents almost as soon as they were reported.”

There were a few articles and handwritten notes about people Sao had never heard of, and a small, faded leaflet for the Birdsing Parade, circa five years ago. The following pages were a sea of names and somewhat invasive remarks (philanderer, jail 19xx-20xx, no kids). Sao was reluctant to linger on them.

“She was looking into something that happened in the area. Do you think she came - or was sent - for something in the box? Her parents perhaps were…?” Sao glanced back. The box was in the trunk.

“Hold on. Just a page before–” Rai flipped said page. “This name’s familiar - Triamond - and the name under it is his wife. She somehow got their phone numbers - at least, I assume that’s what those numbers are. And under that - Langgan Interstate and Central offices. That’s where Triamond worked.”

Under Triamond’s name, the writer had noted died 20xx 07 11. I76 - Robbery?

In the back of the notebook, there was a particularly large wad of papers which looked older than the rest. The ink was chipping off the sheet titled MURDER & THEFT - FELDSPAR 01102 - 20xx 04 23.

At approx 09:24, researcher P____ lost their life at Feldspar Research Nursery in reports room 808. 1-2 Culprits. The victim was assaulted by piercing blugeon to the head and thigh. Portable container including file drive of type C being transported by P___ was unable to be located. Theft and espionage believed to be the motivation. Culprits not yet located.

Culprits expected to be of field surveillance and amament. Culprits expected to be of local type. For the peace and preservation of our Citadel, please report any information INTERNALLY to…

And some unfamiliar looking numbers.

“Man, speaking of Triamond – but, no. Wait. This murder-robbery case is from over 20 years ago.” Rai set the article against the steering wheel. “Feldspar, Nurseries, the whole telegraph writing style… this is an incident report from the Citadel. We don’t see these much - the fae tend to keep local incidents under wraps. See?” Rai tapped the line emphasizing INTERNAL reporting. “As Muka said - they put a lot into keeping their image as a sparkly utopia full of harmless little guys. He’d get a kick out of this.”

“Feldspar. Muka’s sector, he said.”

“Yeah. There are only five sectors, so a twenty percent chance he was gonna match any sector mentioned, but...”

“Still a minor coincidence.” Sao unfolded the rest of the sheets and handed them and the purple book over to Rai. Densely packed names and numbers were much more his supervisor’s forte. Sao instead began exploring at the zippered pouch, which somewhat resembled his own. Inside and out, it seemed.

“A lot of cosmetics,” Sao said. “Expensive stuff, for a schoolgirl. Almost all Langgan, Muka’s favorite brand. But it’s not just color and concealers - these are charcoal diet pills.” He pulled out a plastic bag filled with syringes and grimaced. “Lip filler? Not just that, cheek filler and… undereye filler. Can you imagine, putting a needle in under your eye socket–”

“You did say she looked weirdly made up,” Rai said, the shadows under his eyes as defiant as ever. “Although, I gotta say I didn’t really see it. Expensive natural look?”

“Sort of. I’d say she was going for an anti-aging look, but it wouldn’t make sense at her age. She’d end up drawing in shadows and wrinkles rather than masking them.” He thought of Thomi, trying to contour her face and rash her skin to simulate age. But what Rose did was not quite that. Sao looked at his reflection in the rearview mirror and regretted it. His scars stood out like continents. “It’s hard to put my finger on what looked so uncanny. Having Cherry’s photo for comparison was probably what got to me.”

His musings were blotted out by Rai’s focus on the sheet before him. “This is an emigration list - faeries leaving the Citadel. Another familiar name,” Rai muttered. “And the date…” He held the spot with his finger, though he didn’t need to, because the name was marked in yellow highlighter.

Feldspar, Abel Muka - Civil Dept Immigration - 20xx 04 24 12:18:10

“He left the Citadel the day after the reported murder and theft.” Sao’s grip on the pouch tightened, something sharp inside cutting into his palm. “Do you think Cherry saw this? And who in the world was Rose?”

Rai was tearing up the last page of the notebook, where a rather complex piece of rectangular origami was glued. He fished a paper flower out of its folds, a stack of colorful sticky tabs, and a small printed photo. He dropped the collection on the dashboard.

Sao smoothed out the photo. It was a picture of Cherry and Rose, side by side. Cherry was holding the camera and beaming, there was not a shred of the surliness they’d come to know her for. And perhaps it was just due to recent knowledge that Rose appeared thin-browed and devious.

Rai ripped the protective white sheet fully from the back cover and smiled in a way that would have had even Rose quaking. “Gotcha.” He peeled what looked like a credit card from between the plastic cover and bunched paper. “And what do you have there?”

Sao looked at what he’d pulled out of the pouch and was no more sure than he had been the last time he’d seen something of the kind.

In his palm he had two tiles that looked to be made of lime green acrylic. They were only half as thick as the ‘hard drive’ from Birdsing, but had the same texture, the same iridescent translucency, the same barely-visible filigree running through them.

“Well,” Rai said, smacking his card down like he had completed a winning hand.

It was clearly an identification card. The photo of Rose was monochrome and overlaid with a holographic material, but it was her, hair smoothed and face clear but unsmiling. Thin. Under the sun, Sao saw running through the card’s translucent material the same silvery threads in Rose’s tiles and the pink hard drive. A name was both printed and perforated at the bottom of the card, along with a string of numbers. The name:

Wildrose Gerrid Crysoprase

“The logo,” Rai said, tapping the embossed dragonfly in the corner, “is the Faerie Citadel’s emblem. I’ve seen these exact IDs on the police liaisons from Titania Fortress. They double as working permits. This explains how she got her hands on fae incident reports and emigration records.”

The tin dome that was the I77 mall began whirring like a giant engine. The lights at the entrance came on with a clatter. The carousel was waking up.

“Titania’s a prison, isn’t it?” Sao said. “The Citadel’s closest equivalent to police.”

“So Rose wasn’t just a tenacious kid with too much makeup,” Rai said. “She’s an adult faerie.”

—

“What I don’t understand,” Sao said as he approached the table with the latest round of refreshments, “is why Rose attached herself to Cherry.”

Rai rubbed his eyes with a glowing hand, tossed down his phone (on which he had been typing up his various reports for Headquarters) and searched his cups for any remaining drops. The two of them had convened in the same mildewed hallway where they’d been sitting when the call came in about Muka, albeit at a different table.

“If that’s your only question, you’re way ahead of me,” Rai said.

“You know what I mean.” Sao set down his tea, a bag of sad-looking puff pastries, and a third coffee cup for Rai, who reached for it blearily.

A section of the carousel was visible at the end of the hall, winding down its latest rotation. There had been a startlingly consistent crowd of children in line every time they’d visited. Families must drive out specifically for it; as far as Sao had seen there weren’t any neighborhoods within walking distance. It was a long way to come for so little. But then, the children didn’t seem to tire of it, of watching the creaking carved horses and hearing the repetitive jingle and (most bafflingly) lining up for the whole thing again and again.

What did he know about the happiness of children?

While waiting for Rai to finish his report, Sao had watched one little girl scream and throw herself on the tiled floor because her parents said they had to go catch their bus, and there wasn’t time for another round on the horses.

“I bet it was the other way around,” Rai said.

“Right, how long would it take for the next bus?” Sao murmured as the carousel rumbled into motion for the latest pack of riders.

“I mean with Cherry. She was lonely as hell for who knows how long. Rose acknowledged her - as part of the disguise, or just because it was that easy for a grown adult to trick a kid - and Cherry latched on. Rose wouldn’t have known how persistent she could be, and couldn’t tell her to get lost without drawing suspicion.”

Sao let that sad possibility dissipate over the cacophony of the carousel and its devoted fans.

“I put in a formal missing persons report,” Rai said, “with all the details we have about Rose. A fae agent going missing while chasing down a possible murderer? That will get some eyeballs on Temperance. Eyeballs belonging to people with a lot more power than we have. Maybe they’ll dig up some more dirt on the letters and Lamort while they’re at it.”

“And perhaps look a little deeper into Triamond’s death, since Rose touched on that, at some point. And Britania.” Sao stirred some sugar into his tea and sipped - still bitter. “She’s one of the biggest question marks remaining. According to Cherry, if she has no reason to lie about her, it very much sounds like Britania was there to see her son. But the timing implies that she was tied to Rose’s investigations. Whatever brought them out to Temperance in the first place, she and Rose are still both missing.”

Rai upturned his cup over his mouth and (as always) was disappointed by how little he got out of it. “Britania. Lamort’s notorious ex. Correct me if I’m wrong here - I don’t think we ever heard exactly what it was she did. Although Muka put out those posters, they were just to contact him if she was in the area. No formal restraining orders. And if her missing persons report is right, she was never legally married.”

Sao thought of his botched talk with Hode about the woman. You know why, don’t you?

He hadn’t, and Hode had shut him out. “Something unspeakable, but not made so by legal threats. My first guess would be extreme violence. Uncomfortable topic in general, but Hode had some rather… masculine views, he might not have wanted to discuss a woman inflicting that on a man.” Sao hadn’t been too enchanted with Hode, but this suspicion wasn't hitting the mark. “Second would be criminal enterprise.”

“The missing woman looks more like a librarian than a gang member. But looks don’t mean a lot in this case. Exhibit A: Rose.” Rai slouched back on his chair, the hollow steel legs scraping loudly in protest. “Maybe the fae already know she’s on the case - maybe they know she’s here. Could be that she did get taken out, and the cavalry rode in and offed Muka. His injuries - I don’t know if you looked close-”

He reached for his phone, hovered over the button to open the camera roll. The light of the fingertip flickered, balled with the others into a fist. Rai left the screen untouched and nudged the camera away.

“The damage - he didn’t just die by falling. His skull was caved in from all angles, but the rest of his body was only a little bruised. No broken limbs. The killer went for the head. Either hit it repeatedly against several steps or went after him, maybe even before he fell, with something hard and heavy.” Rai uncurled his fist slowly and laid it on the table. Before Sao could offer up any support, Rai went for the cup he knew was empty and uncapped it, looked in. “It could also be someone from the town, losing their shit on Muka. The letters were linked to the so-called mayor, who was clearly linked to Muka. The tension in that place - someone had to snap eventually.” He flashed a toxic smile. “Would you say Marinell was pretty on edge?”

“Possibly. Britania also had reason to be upset with Muka.”

“Right. Either one’s more likely than a murderous fae cohort. I don’t think a lot of faeries would attempt physical beatings. Muka wasn’t a big guy so an exceptionally strong or large faerie might be able to take him on, sure. But from what I’ve heard, all their top combatants - the prison wardens mostly - rely on magic.”

Sao tried to find the least-deflated of the pastries. “That reminds me, Charmion did ask us about Muka’s magic skills.”

Out came the purple notepad, in shreds after Rai’s thorough inspection. The back cover had come completely detached. “Remember, Rose’s research notes included this list of names from the fae emigration records. The third column is something to do with their jobs - Langgan, Langgan, Civil Research, Titania… Muka’s line was Civil Department, Immigration.”

“Ironic, the man couldn’t wait to leave his country.”

“He lived a long life for a fae. And for a human, when you think about it. That’s something worth celebrating.”

It was jarring to get such optimism out of Rai. Catching Sao’s indulgent grin, Rai noisily unfolded the paper to point out what he’d just read, and with his other hand grabbed a crumbling almond danish from the bag. “I don’t know a ton about fae specialties, but I know Titania prison wardens, the ones who come down to the Mainline HQ jail for pickup, anyway, are combat trained. Not nuke-makers like our Central army pros, but barriers, suppression, disabling bursts, stuff like that. ‘Piercing bludgeons’.”

“You seem to know plenty.” Sao smiled even more indulgently and Rai looked like he might vomit up his bite of pastry. “So what does it mean for Muka?”

“That’s the problem. I don’t know. But fae magic detection and disruption techniques are way more sophisticated than any other variant or invariant school, that’s why magical criminals are kept in a fae-owned jail. Now that we’re thinking on it…” Rai dusted his hands. “I wonder why Muka wouldn’t have been able to detect Rose’s presence.”

“Perhaps she didn’t use any magic, hence nothing to be detected.” Sao sat back, surveyed the monochrome of the hall (the most colorful piece of decor was a bloom of mold clinging to the ceiling). He pondered if this was what drove the visitors back to the carousel; the rumbling, flickering oasis in a desert of drab; again and again.

He was happy just to watch. A fresh set of riders were loaded up, and the song began anew. “You said that Guy told you Temperance is saturated in some old faerie magic. Is it possible that could disrupt a fae’s, erm, sensitivity?”

Rai slumped into his chair and shut his eyes. When he did, the shadowed half moons under them consumed him. Two black holes on a dead white surface; Rai with his eyes closed looked more haggard than Rai awake. Sao considered what he should say. Rai might not need sleep to survive, but he did need rest. Caffeine had rejuvenated him long enough to send his emails, but it couldn’t sustain him forever.

“Rai,” Sao ventured.

“Thomi,” Rai said. “If anyone there can tell us anything, it’s her. She’s known Muka for a long time.” His eyes snapped open, bloodshot. “And she punched right through my Lamort-as-Lumi’s-dad theory. Right there on Lumi’s application, you saw it too. Thomi L. Agate - relation: mother.”

They had an evening lined up with her. Whoever she really was.

The half-fae teacher. All watery eyes and glass and ice to look at her, but there was the glint of steel below the surface. A wall or a blade, they’d find out soon, Sao supposed. They might come into a combination of both. Something like a guillotine.

“Sorry, I interrupted. What were you gonna say?” Rai asked.

“It’s hard to believe she’s his biological mother. She’s far too young to have a child who’s almost ten. She did go on about a blood test, but that would only imply they were blood relations. There’s the possibility that she adopted a relative.”

“Then we push her for details.” He was disgustingly triumphant. “She’s the one who invited us to talk over dinner. She has something to say, why not hear her out?”

The guillotine, Sao didn’t say. Because I know a misdirection when I see one, I’ve laid enough of them myself. He definitely couldn’t say that.

To his credit, Rai sensed the apprehension. “We’ll leave right after dinner. We’re not paying for another night in Temperance. Even if another body turns up.”

“Rai,” Sao said, and this time he made sure Rai looked him in the eye. “Perhaps we should reschedule altogether. You said it yourself when she showed us the folder - she was trying to distract us. She left it on the shelf so we’d ask, and after that we’d look at it for sure. And besides.” He scrounged up a small smile. “Neither of us are dressed for a candlelit dinner.”

“I can buy a new shirt.”

“From the souvenir shop?” Sao tugged at the collar of his own mall memento. His coat hung on the chair behind him. It was serviceable when viewed from a distance, but the blood around the sleeve would not wash out and the lining was starting to smell. The dry cleaner might ask questions. And what would they say if he turned in the sweater alongside…? In spite of his unplaceable dread, and the sense wasn’t getting through to Rai, he began to laugh. And once he started, he couldn’t stop. “We’ll look like a couple of clowns. Perhaps we’ll take down her guard that way.”

Rai smiled, still a little corpse-like, but easier now. “Did you find any extra, uh, concealer that you were looking for?”

“Unfortunately not. Not to defame the I77’s well-stocked pharmacy.” Sao wiped his mirthful tears. “The tone I look for is somewhat uncommon. It’s alright. If we have to make a quick escape, I’ll claim my skin condition is flaring up.”

“If it’s not a good time,” Rai said, “we can just reschedule the dinner.”

Sao opened his mouth to protest and realized he was suddenly about to advocate them returning after all. Like a child on the carousel, he’d been taken for a spin and stepped off not knowing what way he was left facing. Was it on purpose? Had Rai had picked up after all what he felt he couldn’t say before - the misdirection, Sao’s familiarity with it?

Sao recounted the events of that night, many months back now, where he had peeled off his mask and showed his unvarnished face to Rai. It had been in the bathroom across from the hospital morgue where two bodies lay. A third was expected, and Rai had leveled some hefty accusations Sao’s way. So Sao had revealed - used - the scars. Would someone who suffered this much do something so terrible? That was the message. He traded in one secret to keep another - and Rai backed down.

What had always baffled Sao was that Rai knew immediately that he was being conned in a way. He’d said as much, but walked away regardless. And since then he had always shielded Sao from unwanted skin contact - handshakes with strangers, pushy crowds - and made sudden excessive concessions, like the one he’d just given. Was it really excess, though? It made Sao wonder if the scars were really worse than even he thought they were.

And thinking too long on them made him wish he could disintegrate where he sat - skin through to bones.

Rai was looking at him with deep, tired eyes. Sao thought about all their theorizing, how far they’d actually managed to come in this bog of magic and small-town drama. No wonder they’d made progress. Sao knew concealment, Rai knew revenge.

He was so well versed in it that Sao felt his vengeance now, all these months later.

Or maybe Rai did simply care about him - as a friend or colleague or some such. He made it hard to tell.

—

They were headed back. A fine mist was falling over the I77, and the tinny tune emitted from the building’s door echoed eerily into the white nothingness.

Sao waited in the car. The hole where a window should be let the mist pool in. Feeling the ghostly damp coiling around him, he pulled his coat tight over his shoulders and shivered.

Rai was making a last-minute phone call out on the leaf-covered lawn. Rescheduling his appointment once again, he said. He had the tendency to revert to his most brutish when on private phone calls, but this one had him unusually subdued. He slid into the driver’s seat looking like he’d just lost a street fight.

His new blue sweatshirt only added to his scuffed presentation. Pulled from the bottom of the discount pile, the thing was in dire need of ironing. The printed silhouette of the carousel, with its thin poles and minute horsy shapes, was almost lost in wrinkles.

“Everything alright?” Sao asked.

“They weren’t happy, I think that’s the last time I’ll be allowed to reschedule,” Rai grunted, digging out his keys. “No problem. We’ll be out of Interstate by tonight.”

—

The fog dissipated when they reached the dirt road and open field. Myrmilion School’s double towers stood in solemn watch, signposts that they were once again nearing Temperance. They were early, and the sky was a brilliant turquoise, the grassland reflecting back blue with flares of white as the wind swept over the plain.

“I’m sorry this whole thing is taking so long,” Rai said, casually. Overly casual. “You probably wanna shove me off a roof some of the time, huh?”

Sao didn’t say anything.

“I’m glad we could give Cherry some kind of resolution. Her part in the ordeal is over. What really gets me is she’d rather be caught for murder than not know what happened.”

“More of a Cherry than a Rose.”

“Huh?”

“You.” Sao set his elbow against the door panel. The plastic almost caved in. He hoped the car would hold up long enough for the return trip. “Now, let’s really not to talk about who'd push whom off a roof.”

They drove on in silence for a bit, listening to the enormous wheels grinding up the mud and leaf litter beneath them. The canopy of trees swept overhead and threw them into flaking darkness.

“Rose was important to her,” Rai said. All Sao could see of him was two glowing crescents by the steering wheel; the half inch of wrists that stuck out under his gloves. “Her only friend disappearing into the unknown, or her being caught and kicked out of the place she called home - she was losing either way. She chose her friend over herself. The friend who was a fake, and even if she hadn’t been faking, they only knew each other for a year...”

His voice didn’t sound right. Who was it who’d replaced him in the driver’s seat? Some sentimental presence, on the verge of weeping over the dead fae and her unwitting friend. No — Rose wasn’t dead. Or was she? A sudden revelation gripped Sao. Those ghosts Rai was looking for existed after all.

He wasn’t afraid. He’d always felt that if spirits were real, a calm approach was needed, advice which Rai had never heeded (and Sao had never felt the need to make his case, because it would devolve into the predicates of how and in what form ghosts existed in the first place). He squinted, pushing himself off the window. He tried to see the face of the person who’d just — and was blinded as they hit the wall of sunlight at the end of the forest corridor.

When his vision cleared, he saw Rai, stiff and tilted away from Sao like he was being repelled by magnetism. “What is it? You see something over there?” Rai peered out the window on his side, then back at Sao.

“No, it’s nothing.” Sao settled back into his seat, arm against the sill.

In another few minutes, they’d reached the Saturn Hotel.