“Danny and I were curious about how you’re doing these days,” said Pat.

Hermia laughed a little. “How do you like my cell?”

Pat looked around expressionlessly. “You gave your Family a Great Gate. Do you expect me to believe that exile on the island of Arkoi was your reward?”

“They exiled me to Patmos, where my Family owns a little bit of … well, everything. But the place was crawling with Christians who thought that because God gave John such a wild dream on Patmos, he’ll keep pumping out deep revelation to seminarians and pious tourists.”

“No gratitude from your Family, then?”

“They were grateful—till the Great Gate disappeared. Good old Gate Thief, still in business after all.” Hermia knew that this visit wasn’t prompted by curiosity and certainly not by friendliness. She was going to have to face Danny’s judgment sooner or later. So if Pat wouldn’t bring up the subject, Hermia would. “You know that I didn’t choose to betray Danny.”

A hint of a smile? The girl’s face was so hard to read. “The devil made you do it,” she said.

Such hypocrisy. “That’s the excuse Danny’s using these days, isn’t it?” Hermia saw the moment she said it that this was a mistake. Pat was loyal. It was her main virtue. Only a fool would speak ill of Danny, even as a joke.

But Hermia was a gatemage—a gateless one, so all she had left was her perverse sense of humor. It was too much to expect Pat to understand this.

Hermia felt a sudden wind roil her hair, and then a gust threw her off balance and she fell, chair and all, onto the tile floor.

“Oh, very good,” said Hermia. “Clever windmage, to knock down a powerless prisoner.”

“You’re not my prisoner,” said Pat.

“I am now,” said Hermia, “since I can’t get away, and you’re the one in the room with all the power.”

“You chose to betray Danny,” said Pat. “There’s always a choice.”

“You’re right,” said Hermia. “But oddly enough, I think I made the choice Danny North would have made. If you can stop blowing things over long enough to listen, I think you’ll agree with me.”

The air was suddenly still. “It was wrong of me to use the wind that way,” said Pat. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not much for forgiveness, but—”

“I wasn’t apologizing to you,” said Pat, her voice thick with scorn. “Tell me your story. Not so I can judge you, but so that Danny can hear. For some reason, he thinks he owes you a hearing.”

“How is he listening?” asked Hermia. “There’s no gate in this room and there never was. How did you get here?”