“You were a miracle. Though why someone left you out there in the cold, Diana only knows. And your poor sister, Victoria, caught the fever. It took her so quick….” He shook his head, remembering.

After a day of mourning and the blessing of Warden Goodwoody, they laid the body of the baby out on the branches, dressed in rags, sacrificial food for the ravens. Apparently, Ark had screamed through the whole ceremony, only falling silent when the first bird came tumbling from the sky. Instead of claiming its clot of flesh, it had snatched his sister’s body and lifted off into the air, while its companions circled and cawed ferociously. Sometimes he tried to remember his last glimpse of his lost twin, but the picture in his mind was forever full of indistinct, swirling black feathers.

“You know we always loved you like our own?”

Ark nodded. Mr. and Mrs. Malikum were his dad and mom. And Shiv was his real, living sister. It was enough, almost. But Dad was right. Who would abandon them in the middle of nowhere? The question had nagged him through all his short years. But the answer was obvious. It was someone who obviously didn’t care. That was all he needed to know.

“We’ve always managed before and we will again. For tonight, there is nothing we can do except hand it over to Diana.” He briefly closed his eyes. The subject was closed. “Now then, have you eaten today?”

Ark shook his head dumbly. The chase had done him in. He was starving.

6• POISON GAS

Petronio had no difficulty keeping out of his father’s way the following morning. He slipped out after breakfast and joined the busy branchways, his own head crowded with the events of the day before.

When the guards had brought back the news of Ark’s death, Petronio had been mildly surprised by his own reaction. He looked for regret but could find none. In fact, he was significantly more upset at his treatment from the two new guards. To be dragged in front of his father like a naughty schoolboy was an affront to his pride. He would not forget that moment, that was for sure. When the time was right, he’d make them pay dearly.

Petronio shouldered his way through the throng, squeezing past several frustrated horsemen, a cart piled high with onions from the scaffields and a bleating flock of sheep stuck in the sea of faces. He was amazed that more people didn’t tip over the edge as they scurried to work. The safety ropes helped, but council lane-widening programs didn’t stop the sheer numbers using them.