The twinkle in his eye and the twitch of his lip were far too teasing. Fae became suddenly flustered. She gathered up the cups and plates and retreated to the kitchen. Miranda watched her go, then eyed him sternly and spoke softly.

“You remind me of someone—someone charming, witty, and accustomed to always having his own way.”

He smiled and replied just as quietly. “The habit of power. It’s very hard to break. The most one can hope to do is divert it into harmless activities.”

“What do you expect me to do? If you can’t find Outis with your resources, how do you expect me to manage?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure that you understand who I am? The problem is not finding the man. The problem is that the man will know he is found. I cannot approach him. He has too deep a knowledge of me.”

“Does he have an amulet?” Miranda guessed boldly. “They can both summon and banish your kind, can’t they?”

He stiffened. “There is good reason those are no longer permitted to be made.”

“You could send people—”

He waved his hand. “I have sent people. He is more than a match for them. You . . . now you are something else.”

“What do you expect me to do?”

For a moment, the urbane mask was laid aside; for a moment, he looked at her as one would look at an equal. “Live. At all costs, Miranda, live.”

He stood up abruptly, raising his voice to be heard beyond the room. “I wish you well.”

Fae rushed out from the kitchen, but before she could begin to frame an appropriate farewell, he stepped forward, took her hand, and kissed it warmly, leaving her speechless.

“Allow me to see you out, Mr. Reis,” Miranda said loudly. She pushed herself after him into the foyer with as much haste as she could muster, and when he opened the door and stepped out, she followed him up to the very threshold to block any thought or possibility of reentry.

“I’d like you to stay away from my cousin,” she told him.

“You don’t approve? That’s highly ironic, Miranda. If only you knew how much.”

“But I thank you for warning me.”

He bowed his head, sober and contrite again. “I wish I could do more. I am partly to blame for the fact that he knows so much about these temptations. Good day, Dr. Ecouvo.”

With that, he closed the door.

—

The Trickster seized him and yanked him from the labyrinth before he had time to turn around fully. “Stop! You’re not Patience, and you’re not an echo. Who are you?”