“A mid-sized, good-natured, fluffy dog,” said Quona. “Cobal is trying to decide what kind of Keepish dog to send home to his children in Estill.” Then Quona went on to enumerate all the advantages and disadvantages of poodles relative to other breeds of dog, while Cobal smirked at Giddon as if enjoying the impatience he suspected Giddon felt.

It was that kind of night. And it was followed by that kind of week, for in the hopes of hearing the right clue from the right person, they accepted one dinner invitation after another. They got a lot of exercise, tromping around the city in the dark.

On Friday night, after an unilluminating party at the house of a Scholar rep named Dev Dimara, Giddon and Hava walked home together. It was late, and cold. Their route took them through Flag Hill, where the houses stood like small castles behind heavy gates. Lights atop some of the roofs cast a pale glow over oblong balloons.

“Fox report?” said Giddon.

“It’s a little confusing,” said Hava, “because I think a couple are taking turns.”

“Like a tag team of small, fuzzy stalkers?”

“Yes, exactly. For a while, we were being followed by this little one who hides dramatically behind tufts of grass, then leaps out and races madly to the next tuft. Then I didn’t see any for a bit, until we rounded that last corner, and then I saw old Smug Nose. Wait,” she said abruptly, her voice a quick breath and her hand catching his arm, pulling him off the road and into a stand of trees. He saw what she saw, a small form shooting down a staircase and onto the road ahead of them, but he didn’t understand.

Then the person glanced around. The hood of her coat dropped to reveal twists of hair and the flash of a worried expression in a dark face. It was that Cavenda girl, Lovisa, who’d found them snooping in her father’s library.

She ran off like a mouse.

“Why are we hiding?” asked Giddon. “Haven’t you decided she’s harmless?”

“I don’t know. It was something in the way she moved. She didn’t want to be seen.”

“Any idea where she’s headed? Isn’t that the way to her own house?”

“Yes. But it’s Friday night and she lives in the academy dormitories, so I don’t know why she’d be sneaking home in the dark.”

“Maybe she’s the thief who stole the varane formulas,” said Giddon.

“Ha,” said Hava. “I wouldn’t put it past her.”