I could tell from Dimitri’s face that it wasn’t a topic he liked discussing, and frankly, I didn’t blame him. Moroi society hadn’t always treated dhampir women well. They could only have children with Moroi fathers, fathers who often viewed those women as little more than playthings. The standard practice for dhampir women who had children was to turn those children over early to one of the schools, like St. Vladimir’s, while the mother returned to guardian services. A lot of dhampir women didn’t like doing that, however. They wanted to raise their own children. Some would go off and blend into human society, but that was discouraged. Even if dhampirs looked identical to humans, dhampirs often demonstrated extraordinary physical abilities that called too much attention to them. Without other options, these dhampir women often banded together in “communes,” some more civilized than others. Some dhampir women found perfectly ordinary ways to survive . . . others turned to more desperate paths, which Dimitri confirmed.

“Members of these communes wear markers that show what their role is,” he explained. “Some are residents, some are guests. Some are women making themselves available to interested men—selling their bodies.”

“Disgusting,” said Rose.

I glanced at Adrian’s drawing, and a horrible, terrible thought occurred to me about Olive. Had she become that desperate? “Do you know what kind this is?” I asked.

Dimitri shook his head. “Not without color. These marks identify which commune it is. There’s usually a color on it to signify the person’s status.”

“It was green,” said Adrian.

“Green marks a guest,” Dimitri said. Both Adrian and I exhaled in relief. “Someone living there temporarily. Maybe visiting a relative. Maybe seeking sanctuary.”

“So not someone selling herself?” I clarified. I couldn’t stand the thought of poor Olive doing that.

“No,” said Dimitri, looking puzzled. Rose did as well.

“What’s this all about?” she asked.

Adrian didn’t answer right away. Instead, he held up the paper again for them to see. “Do you know which commune this belongs to? Where it’s at?”

Dimitri studied the drawing a moment before shaking his head. “No . . . but I could probably find out. Why?”

Adrian hesitated again. “Is Lissa still there somewhere? Or is anyone else lurking?”

“No,” said Rose. “It’s just us. Why?”

Adrian glanced at me, and just like that, I knew what he was thinking. “We’re supposed to be lying low,” I reminded him. “Staying out of trouble.”

“Olive could be in a lot of trouble. And if she won’t talk in a dream, maybe going to her in person is the only option we have,” Adrian said. “That and, I mean, come on. If we can’t help Jackie, we might as well help someone else . . .”