So that’s who the boy was: prince of the realm. Future king, heir to the throne of France. I let out my breath heavily. I kissed the future king, and he tasted of chocolate …

Tomasis laughs, a tremendous sound bursting with warmth and humor that fills the hall and bounces off the walls and ceiling. “The Talisman of Charlemagne, stolen from the neck of the dauphin. It is worth a sight more to me than Thénardier’s pride,” he says, wiping his glittering eyes.

Femi raises his eyebrows subtly at me.

“This is the offering I bring before you,” I say quickly, reciting the words he taught me on the rooftops. “A gift from the”—I pause to recall the name—“caliph to the king of Those Who Walk by Day, containing the hair of one of their most holy saints.” I drop to one knee, head bowed. “Take this gift, Lord of Thieves. May it please you and grant me favor. And take me with it, as daughter to you. Let me dwell in your presence as one of the Wretched, a true child of the Miracle Court, and I will serve you for all my days.”

The Gentleman glances to Tomasis, who nods. The powdered man steps forward, clearing his throat.

“What is your name?” he intones.

“I have none until my Father has spoken it.”

“Who is your mother?”

“I have no mother but the City.”

“And who is your Father?”

“I have no Father but the Lord of Thieves.”

The Gentleman lifts his head and looks out at the Thieves in the hall before continuing. “Today you shed your earthen skin and are reborn in the darkness to your Guild and the Wretched—your brothers and sisters.

“Hereafter you will be called by your true name …”

He pauses, glancing at Femi, who, tilting his chin up, says, “Black Cat of the Thieves Guild, daughter of Tomasis, child of the Miracle Court. May they sing your songs forever.”

May they sing your songs forever. The words ring in my ears as a hundred voices repeat them around me.

Tomasis gestures for me to approach. I rise and bring the necklace to him. He leans forward, lowering his head, and I put the heavy chain around his neck. The stone nestles against his chest, glimmering defiantly against the rubies and diamonds beneath it.

“From this day forth I will be your Father,” Tomasis says. “You are bound to me by bone and iron. I lay my mark upon your skin, and you will recognize none but me above you.”

“Thank you, Father,” I say. From the corner of my eye, I see a thin woman dressed in silks approaching, a bottle of dark liquid and a metal quill in her hands.

“From this day forth I will protect you from all things, and you will serve me in all things and abide by the laws of the Miracle Court.”

“I will, my Lord,” I say, trying not to stiffen as the woman reaches me. She tilts my head to the side, exposing my neck, and with a swiftness that is astounding, and a biting, burning pain, she tattoos a shape into the soft skin behind my ear.