“It looks bad,” Raz said. “They’re about to give.”

“Okay.” Cat crouched on the rooftop. “Here we go.”

And there was silver.

What are you doing? the Goddess roared. There was too much pain for Her to do anything but roar. Cat felt that pain through the Suit, as if she’d touched a burning kiln. We had a deal.

Sorry, she prayed, and flew.

*   *   *

And Cat, Abelard added as a silver streak rose through the distorted sky. You can definitely trust her.

*   *   *

Daphne did not expect the cop.

Winged, quicksilver, she was a thing of violence bent to other ends than war. She flew to the circle’s edge, and her skin reflected Daphne transformed, freed from flesh.

Ms. Mains, the cop said. You are under arrest.

She blinked. “You have no authority within the circle.”

I am not concerned with the case you have come to try. You are assaulting several citizens of Alt Coulumb, including these gargoyles and their goddess.

“Then Kos claims responsibility for Seril.”

You’d like that, the cop replied, and there was an edge of smile beneath the silver. But no. Justice is supported by both Kos and Seril, but she’s a separately managed subsidiary, charged with protecting Alt Coulumb’s people. Seril and her children are, technically, people of Alt Coulumb. If you attack them, you face Justice.

Daphne turned to the Judge, who shrugged, then back to the cop. “Nonsense.”

I spent a lot of time in the library piecing this together, the cop said. And I hate libraries. But if I’m right, that circle protects you from people who want to interfere with your case. Question is, whether it will also save you from someone who wants you on criminal charges. Let’s see.

She stepped forward as if the air were a floor, and crossed the circle’s edge.

The cop shifted her neck as if to crack it.

Well. That’s interesting.

“Your Honor,” Daphne said.

“She has a point, Ms. Mains.”

“The circle isn’t technically in Alt Coulumb.”

“The circle isn’t technically anywhere. But Alt Coulumb has long-standing mutual extradition arrangements with the Courts of Craft. You are, of course, entitled to defend yourself.”

“Very well.” Daphne called lightnings to her. “Arrest me, or try. Do you think that silver suit will save you? I can see its weaving. I will break you and the witless construct you serve.”

Which is why I didn’t come alone.

She pointed down.

The rooftops swarmed with silver. Hundreds of figures waited there, tensing to jump.

They whistled like arrows through the sky.

Then the cop hit Daphne in the face.

*   *   *

There we go, the Goddess said. Back on track. Are you still—

I’m fine, Tara prayed. Just bring the road.