“I’m Amalia,” I said. “I swear to you, on my life, we’ll return as quickly as we can to get you out of here.”

“Don’t go!” a voice cried from the drain, like a needle through my heart.

“She has to,” Jaslyn whispered. “You heard. They’re going to go get tools, and come back to set us free.”

“Yes. I promise, we’ll be right back.”

“If that masked bitch shows up, or the louse who feeds you, don’t tell them we were here,” Zaira commanded. “Act like nothing strange happened, or they might hide you somewhere else so we can’t find you. Got it, brats?”

In the darkness below, pale blurs of faces nodded.

“We won’t forget.”

“Hurry back!”

“I want to go home!”

“You will,” I promised.

Pulling my hand away from those grasping fingers was worse than sticking it into a fire. I stood and turned, hating every movement that took me away from them. Hating myself for leaving them behind.

“Come on,” Zaira growled. “Let’s get them out of there. And then I want you to release me, so I can burn this place down.”

I couldn’t bring myself to disagree.

“We tell Duke Astor first,” I said as we hurried toward the River Palace. “This has gone too far.”

Luminaries glowed at the doors of the wealthy, coming awake with the departure of the sun; candles and lamps flickered golden in the windows of the middle class. All the lively sounds of evening lifted into the air: the talk and laughter of people at dinner, the trill of music from an open tavern. Aromas of meat cooking in herbs and wine made my stomach growl. But none of this life and light could banish the circle of darkness in my heart, from which huge eyes stared up, waiting hopefully.

“Best get to the duke before the Owl bitch does,” Zaira agreed. “And I only give you even odds of making it to your uncle’s house. Our minty friends are bound to be waiting for you there.”

“Maybe the duke will let me use his courier lamps to send a message to the doge while we’re at the palace.” Though I couldn’t tarry too long. I was fine for now, but my elixir couldn’t wait in the back of my wardrobe all night.

“Are you sure His Pointy-Bearded Grace isn’t in on this? If he is, going to the palace is a huge mistake.”

“I don’t think he is.” We hurried across the River Arden on an old stone bridge, between rows of shops closed up for the night. “He’s not subtle enough, frankly. And if it was his scheme, Lady Savony would have been able to leave the River Palace much earlier today, and we wouldn’t have had to wait outside for so long.”