“Nice lead-in for my next piece of news. Hawthorn’s lab boy, Malicorne, is on limited release, provided that he works with the people who are trying to develop a vaccine. Which means he’s going to spend his days shoulder to shoulder among the test tubes with Milo Chevrolet, which will either broaden his outlook or drive him to suicide. Milo says if Malicorne gives him any trouble, he’ll tie him up and make him watch Rocky and Bullwinkle episodes until he can say, That trick never works.’ “

“Are they having any luck, though? With the vaccine?”

It was a moment before she said, “It may be a long time.”

That was almost a comfort, really; nothing could have saved Tick-Tick, not even finding the lab sooner. “What about Saquash?”

She ran her hands through the cropped part of her hair. “Nothing’s decided yet. The judges’ council has heard the accusation, and commissioned the gathering of evidence. I gave them copies of Linn’s and my files yesterday, and you’ll probably be called to tell your part of the story. Justice takes a little time.”

“If… what’ll happen to him?”

“If they decide he’s guilty? Depends. But they may ask for banishment.”

I turned away to the kitchen window, and pretended to be tidying the counter.

“Does that seem too light? Toby’s been here for almost ten years. His life is made here. And in all those years he never went back.”

“No,” I said, looking at the skyline. “Not too light. Maybe too heavy.” If he was banished, how could he make it up to the city? How could he put back what he had taken out? One of the things he’d taken out was Tick-Tick, and somebody had to make good on that loss, didn’t he?

“Oh, and Weeping Birch’s charter is suspended, pending the resolution of Toby’s case. If they have any excuse to, the city will vote to revoke. They’ve been wanting a reason for months.” I heard her get out of the chair, and after a moment she was standing next to me. I smelled her shampoo, which only smelled like shampoo, and not like rosemary or mangoes or cloves. “So there. Is that enough vengeance for you?”

I shook my head, “You were right. Vengeance isn’t mine, either. Justice is, maybe, because I live here, and I wouldn’t want to if there wasn’t justice. But that’s not the same as vengeance.”

Sunny brought her index finger down lightly on my shoulder. “I dub thee Sir Gareth.”

“Sunny—” Oh, Lord, had I ever called her by her first name to her face before? I could feel my ears turning red. I shot a sideways glance at her. “The night Tick-Tick died—when we—”

“It never happened,” she said, with a little crooked smile.