Cordelia thought of the delicate tracery of the compass rose on Thomas’s arm, and wondered if he had any special person in mind.

“Too late for me to only have one,” declared Matthew airily. “At least I can hope for several names in a carefully but enthusiastically selected list.”

“Nobody’s ever tried to seduce me at all,” Lucie announced in a brooding fashion. “There’s no need to look at me like that, James. I wouldn’t say yes, but I could immortalize the experience in my novel.”

“It would be a very short novel, before we got hold of the blackguard and killed him,” said James.

There was a chorus of laughter and argument. The afternoon sun was sinking in the sky, its rays catching the jeweled hilts of the knives in Anna’s mantelpiece. They cast shimmering rainbow patterns on the gold-and-green walls. The light illuminated Anna’s shabby-bright flat, making something in Cordelia’s heart ache. It was such a homey place, in a way that her big cold house in Kensington was not.

“What about you, Cordelia?” said Lucie.

“One,” said Cordelia. “That’s everyone’s dream, isn’t it, really? Instead of many who give you little pieces of themselves—one who gives you everything.”

Anna laughed. “Searching for the one is what leads to all the misery in this world,” she said. “Searching for many is what leads to all the fun.”

Cordelia met James’s eyes, half by accident. She saw the worry in his—there had been something brittle in Anna’s laugh. “Then this should be fun,” Cordelia said quickly. “Seducing Hypatia. After all, what are rules for if not to be broken?”

“You make an excellent point,” said Matthew, finagling a piece of cake from Lucie’s plate. She slapped at his hand.

“And getting this Pyxis might help quite a few people,” said Cordelia. “It could have helped Barbara. It could still help Ariadne.”

The blue of Anna’s eyes darkened. “Oh, very well. Let’s try it. Might be a lark. However.”

“However what?” said Christopher. “If you haven’t got the proper clothes, I could lend you my new waistcoat. It’s orange.”

Anna shuddered. “Orange is not the color of seduction, Christopher. Orange is the color of despair, and pumpkins. Regardless, I have all the clothes I need. However”—she held up a finger, the nail clipped quite short—“the Hell Ruelle is not assembled every night. The next salon is tomorrow.”

“Then we will go tomorrow,” said James.

“We cannot possibly all go to the Hell Ruelle,” said Anna. “Hypatia wouldn’t like it if we all show up in a gaggle. A gaggle is not dignified.”

“It makes sense for me to go,” said Matthew. “They know me there.”

“I should go as well,” said James. “It is possible my shadow power might be useful. I have utilized it before to—to acquire certain things.”