He peered at it. He dropped his monocle, picked it up. His thick fingers were shaking. “For this,” he said, “I will give you anything you like from the shop. Free of charge.”

I frowned. “You want to keep it?”

“Oh, yes. This is very valuable.” He placed the half in his palm. “Where did you get this?”

“Information costs, Mr. Duckett.”

“If you bring me more of these, I will never charge you anything. Take whatever you like. One item per pill.”

“Tell me what it is or no deal.”

“Two items.”

“No.”

“Information is dangerous. One can’t put a price on it.” He held the pill near the paraffin lamp. “I can tell you that it is an herbal capsule, and that it is harmless. Is that enough?”

Two items in exchange for the pills. Items like these could save lives in the Rookery.

“Three,” I said, “and we’ve got a deal.”

“Excellent. You are a shrewd businesswoman.” He steepled his fingers. “What else are you?”

“Acultomancer.”

It was my standard lie. A test of competence, in a way. I liked to see whether or not they’d believe me. Duckett chuckled. “You’re not a soothsayer. If I were sighted, I think you’d be on the other end of the spectrum. Yours is a hot aura. Like embers.” He tapped his fingers on a mirror. “We might have another interesting season this year.”

I tensed. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just talking to myself. Best way to keep one’s sanity after forty years.” A smile tempted his mouth. “Tell me—what do you think of the Warden?”

I put the tinderbox back on the table.

“I’d have thought it was obvious,” I said.

“Not at all. There are a variety of opinions here.” Duckett ran his thumb over the lens of his monocle. “The blood-consort is considered by many to be the most attractive of the Rephaim.”

“Maybe you think so. I find him repulsive.” I held his gaze. “I’ll take my items.”

He sat back in his seat. I picked out a Sterno can, a few aspirin, and the fusidic acid. “Nice doing business with you,” he said, “Miss––?”

“Mahoney. Paige Mahoney.” I turned my back on him. “If you prefer to use real names.”

I walked out of the den. His eyes stung my back.

Those questions had felt like an interrogation. I hadn’t said anything wrong, I was sure. I’d said exactly what I thought about Warden. Why Duckett wanted me to say anything otherwise, I had no idea.

On my way out, I tossed the fusidic acid to the julker. He looked up at me with a tilted head.

“For your eye,” I said.

He blinked. I kept on walking.

When I reached the right shack, I rapped my knuckles on the wall outside. “Liss?” No reply. I knocked again. “Liss, it’s Paige.”