‘‘I didn’t think so. No, dear twin, this little box is not going to Magoth . . . and we’re not going to sell it. There’s nothing else for it—I’m just going to have to return it to the mage.’’

‘‘It seems such a pity,’’ she said, pulling into the underground parking lot that sat beneath our modest hotel. ‘‘Maybe he won’t know it’s gone. I think you should just hold on to it for a bit and see if he even notices that you have it.’’

‘‘Did you give up morals along with your common sense?’’ I asked.

Cyrene parked the car, turning to me with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. ‘‘My morals are just fine, and you can stop making that face at me. I just think we should talk this over a bit. It’s invisible, so maybe the mage has forgotten about it.’’

I leaned forward until I could peer directly into her blue eyes. ‘‘Priceless, Cyrene. Literally . . . priceless.’’

Avarice lit her face for a moment.

‘‘Even if I was the sort of person to steal something for myself—and I’ll reiterate the fact that I’m not, since you seem to conveniently forget that whenever temptation raises its head—there’s no way I’d keep this. It’s just too valuable. That mage is going to move heaven and earth to get it back, and frankly, I could do without having anyone else after my head.’’

She sighed and got out of the car. ‘‘You take life too seriously. We definitely need to work on getting you a sense of humor, not to mention a sense of fun!’’

‘‘There is little time for fun when you have my job. And speaking of that, I wonder what the mage will do since his people heard my name,’’ I said, slowly getting out of the car. My skin was hot and tight at spots where dried blood pulled at it. The cuts I’d received going through the glass were mostly healed, but I still looked like hell.

She spun around, her hand at her mouth. ‘‘Oh, May! I’m sorry! I didn’t think of that—do you think they’ll connect Mei Ling with you?’’

I let the corner of one side of my mouth curl into a rueful smile. ‘‘I don’t see how they can. They didn’t get a good look at me, and they think it was Mei Ling, infamous international cat burglar, and not a simple doppelganger from California.’’

She grimaced. ‘‘Me and my big mouth.’’

‘‘Oh, it’s not that bad—it means less attention on me if everyone is looking for an Asian woman. Ugh. I can’t go into the hotel like this. I’ll shadow walk to my room. Will you be OK?’’