“I will,” Yora said. “Thanks for the meal.”

“You looked like you could use it.”

She snorted a laugh and walked away.

*

When Gyre returned to Lynnia’s, the old alchemist met him at the door, stone-faced.

“I’m telling you,” she said without preamble. “I won’t be responsible.”

“Responsible for what?”

“The consequences!”

“What con—”

“Just go talk to her,” Lynnia huffed. “And keep your head down.”

The alchemist clumped out of the way, and Gyre, puzzled, dropped his coat on a chair and descended the spiral steps to the basement workshop. The air was thick with a purple-gray haze, and one of the stone worktops had been cleared off, then freshly scarred with blast marks. Kit sat in front of it, about to tip a vial of something blue into a bowl of something green.

“Kit?” Gyre coughed, waving the smoke away.

She looked up at him with a grin. “I always thought I might have a talent for alchemy.”

Gyre looked at the bowl. “What are you mixing?”

“Dunno.”

“What’s it going to do?”

“Not sure.”

“Is it safe?”

“We’ll find out!”

“Maybe put the vial down,” Gyre said.

“Oh, relax. Lynnia keeps the dangerous stuff locked up.”

“She keeps the expensive stuff locked up. It’s not the same thing.”

“Spoilsport,” Kit said. She put the vial down with a sigh and yawned. “Just trying to keep myself entertweeee …”

Gyre crossed the room in time to catch her as she slid off the chair. She flopped against him, giggling, and threw her arms around his neck.

“Spinning,” she said happily. “Why’re we spinning?”

“I think you’ve been breathing too much of this stuff.”

He lifted her, surprised at how little effort it took. Kit leaned on his shoulder, still giggling, as he backed out of the room and brought her upstairs. On the main floor, Lynnia was in the kitchen, stirring something as she fixed them with a baleful glare.

“Sorry,” Gyre said. “I don’t think she got into anything really terrible, but you should let it air out a little.”

“Serve her right if she blew her fool head off,” Lynnia muttered.

“Kaboom!” Kit said happily, then dissolved into another fit of giggles.

Lynnia rolled her eyes. Gyre shifted his grip and took Kit upstairs. Her head was still resting on his shoulder, and the feel of her breath against his neck was distracting. From the sly look in her eye, he suspected she knew it. When he reached his room, he deposited her on the bed, then sat heavily in his chair.

“Ooooh,” she said, bouncing a little and making the bed frame creak. “Is this where you take advantage of my helpless state to toss me on the bed and ravish me?”

“Of course not,” Gyre said.

“You sure? It’s been a long day.”

He rolled his eye. “ I don’t believe you’re helpless for a minute.”

“You’re learning.” Kit sat up, her coordination returning abruptly. “This your room? You don’t decorate much.”