What is it? she said, suddenly nervous, for they were looking at one another in a particular way, with that shine they got in their big, dark eyes whenever they talked about the Keeper.

We spoke with some new humans, they said. We learned something about one of your treasures.

So? said the creature, not knowing where this was going, but definitely not liking it.

Do you remember that time you were a hero? they asked.

Chapter Twenty-two

Lovisa hardly slept on the night she discovered the Queen of Monsea in the attic.

Her muscles ached every time she moved; her head throbbed. The key, still hanging on its string around her neck, felt like it was imprinting itself into her chest.

Before light touched her window, she scrabbled upright and found her shoes, then the door. She was still wearing her party dress. Outside, that northern boy, Nori Orfa, was in the corridor, leaving Nev’s room. He twisted his mouth at Lovisa when he saw her, cocky, interrogative.

“Morning,” he said, in a manner she recognized. He was flirting with her, in the act of leaving another girl’s room.

She summoned some strategy from somewhere. “If you’re lying to Nev,” she said to him, “you’re going to regret it.”

His eyebrows shot up with humor. “Oh? What are you going to do?” he said, with barely a northern lilt. Pretending to be Ledran.

“Write a letter to your girlfriend back home, for starters.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend back home,” he said, looking a little uncomfortable.

“Oh, Sibra Liona isn’t your girlfriend?” said Lovisa. Then, as his face turned nasty, she pulled her door shut again, because she didn’t have the energy for this right now. She didn’t know who Sibra Liona was. It was only a name she’d heard, sobbed by a girl Lovisa knew who’d been involved with Nori. Some girlfriend back home Nori had lied about. But Lovisa would write to her, if Nori pushed her. What a letter that would be. “Hi. I’m not sure who you are and you’ve never heard of me, but if you’re Nori’s girlfriend, did you know he lies about you and has sex with everything that moves? You can trust me, because I know his type.” Because I am his type, she thought to herself, understanding, with a sudden avalanche of shame, that it was true. I use people for sex too. I destroy lives.

She stood in the dark, waiting. Then, after she’d given him enough time to clear off, she crept downstairs to Pari’s bedroom. When no one answered her tap, she opened the door and stuck her head in. Of course the room was empty. She’d known it would be.