“I don’t want you to worry over this, Clem,” he said. “All is well. What I want you to do is continue playing your role as Phelan’s partner safely and shrewdly. Do you understand?”

I nodded, even as his hands continued to cradle my face, firm within his grip.

“Good,” he whispered, and his fingers fell away. “Now, then. Do you have any news about the countess?”

I did. I knew that she was a deviah, and she had been creating enchanted cards for Seven Wraiths. I knew that she was trying to keep Phelan’s new moon nemesis an absolute secret, for reasons I could only marvel at. I had an inkling she had once had an affair with the duke, and Phelan and Lennox were the offspring of that liaison.

But if my father would not be forthright with me, then why should I be with him?

“No news, Papa. But Phelan is searching the theaters, seeking Mama.”

“I’ll let her know,” he said. “You should return to your post before you are missed.”

I let him walk me to the door, Imonie slipping a few cheese pastries into my hand. My father and I paused in the foyer, and I knew he wouldn’t open the front door until I had cast my stealth charm. But I delayed; I was still hungry for answers.

“What would happen if I ceased taking remedies at night?”

Papa frowned. “That would be a foolish thing to do, Clem.”

“But what would happen if I did?” I insisted. “Would I dream, Papa?”

He was silent, but his stare held mine for a long moment. “You would dream, daughter. And there is no telling how terrible those dreams would be.”

I cast my stealth charm. He opened the door for me, and I slipped out of the town house without another word. I walked a few blocks before I came to a stop near the river, and I stood on the mossy bank for a while, acknowledging the truth like a bruise on my skin.

My father was deceiving me.

I didn’t drink a remedy that night.

I lay in bed with the door open, like it had been the night before. As Phelan’s was, on the other side of the hall. As if some channel had been forged by our dreamless slumber, and if I dared to rise, its current would guide me to him.

I stared up into the darkness, afraid to fall asleep, afraid to discover what awaited me on the other side. Afraid of the answers that I sought.

I slept beneath the shadows of a canopy, beneath the watch of the stars. I woke to the fragile light of the sun. And I was cold again, as if I were in an empty cavern, or lost on a winter sea.

There was nothing for me to experience in sleep, despite what my father had sworn.

Again, I hadn’t dreamt.

27