The bird I had captured the night of the moon festival didn’t belong to an anonymous High-Kith lady. It belonged to the Lord Protector, the ruler of Herrath.

I thought, from the seriousness of his stance, that he might give a speech, that I might learn more about the building of the wall and why it was celebrated even if no one remembered its construction, but—even at my distance—I saw his mouth slide into a sneaky smile. “Enjoy,” he called. “Take what you wish.”

The crowd went wild.

As though possessed, people began to snatch at whatever was closest, whatever they liked. Children, screaming in joy and fear, were bounced from one set of hands to another. A man tugged at the ivy, wrapping it around himself. People tore clothes off each other. Laughter rose from the crowd, though the councilmen remained still, standing exactly where they had been.

Someone pulled the simple gold bangle I had won at a party off my wrist. “Hey!” I shouted.

The woman pouted. “It’s just a game.”

“It’s a bad game,” Sid said, and the woman rolled her eyes, tossed the bracelet back at me, and disappeared into the melee.

Then over the roar of the crowd came the warbling cry of the Elysium. It launched itself from the Lord Protector’s fist. It circled above, predatory, and called again. It swooped above, growing closer to me.

Mine, it called, and some people stopped their thieving to clap hands over their ears, the sound of the bird pierced so deeply.

It was hunting for something, I realized.

Me.

The bird hovered above me, beating its glorious wings. Mine, it called again. The crowd went silent. They were all staring at me. Everyone was staring. Sid, too.

“Seize her,” the Lord Protector said.

48

I RAN.

I heard Sid call, but I outran her, too, because if I was caught I didn’t want her to be caught with me. I ducked under the screen of vines and dodged down narrow streets, weaving around startled people, thinking of the city as a labyrinth like the one I had conquered at the party. My feet clapped against stone and clattered the occasional metal cellar doors set into the streets. I knew, by now, almost all the twists and turns of the High quarter, but as soon as I found an alleyway the councilmen rushed past, a dark shadow fell over me. I glanced up. The Elysium wheeled above and sang in triumph.

Mine.

I flung myself into a cellar door outside a towering home. I hid among bottles of wine, sweat oozing down my back, my heart hard against my chest. I heard shouts from the alleyway above. The thin slice of light that fell from the crack between the cellar’s double street doors broke and wavered as people ran past. Their footfalls pummeled the metal cellar doors.