Marcello nodded. “Since he’s either an alchemist or an artificer, that means there’s no rush to get a jess on him. He won’t be physically capable of using his powers until he’s older. Though I’d be careful if he’s mixing things together or doing scribble drawings, just in case.”

Alarm flashed into Venasha’s eyes.

“Oh,” Foss sighed. “A new way for him to cause havoc. And I thought climbing was bad.”

“Take a few days to think about what you want to do,” Marcello told them. “Let us know right away if anything happens to make you feel unsafe—people showing unusual interest in him, or powers starting to manifest. And don’t be afraid to come to the garrison for help at any hour.”

“Or to me,” I put in.

Foss caught my eyes. “Amalia, you’ve been to the Mews. Just tell me … Tell me, truly. Will he be happy there?”

I felt all their attention on me. Venasha and Foss, full of hope and fear, with unshed tears standing in their eyes. Zaira, daring me to lie. And Marcello, urging me with every line of his face to praise the place that was home and family to him.

“Most of the Falcons I’ve met seem to be happy,” I said slowly. “It’s a safe place. A comfortable place. The Falconers are good people.”

Zaira let out a soft snort, but kept her mouth shut, thank the Graces.

Venasha tried an uncertain smile. “And I suppose if we do move to the Mews, we’ll see you more often, Amalia.”

This was too much for Zaira. “A little,” she said with a bright, false smile. “Every now and then.”

I nodded, and hugged Venasha and Aleki in one big, squirmy armful. But the knot in my throat wasn’t one of joy.

Even believing everything I’d said about the Mews, I couldn’t pretend this was good news. Whatever Aleki might have been, whatever future Venasha and Foss might have seen unfold for him, whatever thousand roads might have lain before him … now there was only one.

It might not be a bad road. But he was too small to know his feet were on it, let alone choose his way.

I could feel the fury radiating off Zaira like heat as the three of us left the gardens.

“I’d say I can’t believe you, but I can.” She glared an inferno at me and Marcello. “You’re really going to take that baby from his home, put a jess on him, and raise him as a soldier.”

Marcello stopped before the garden gates and faced her. “What would you have me do? I can’t change the Serene Accords. All I can do is make the Mews the best place possible for the mage-marked.”