But the next amble opening they passed was different, a stone arch covered with ivy, and most of the arches they passed weren’t openings to shopping areas at all. So Giddon gained no faith in these supposed signs.

“Mm-hm,” murmured Hava, noticing his face. “You just have to know.”

The last part of their route took them through the academy campus, which was like a small city of its own: white stone buildings set behind high stone walls; sweeping, well-kept yards and neat paths; gardens of flowers that even now, in this cold, pushed pink petals up through blankets of snow. Giddon’s heart ached at the spaciousness and beauty of the Winterkeep Academy. He saw keenly that it was the kind of institution Bitterblue could only ever have dreamed of creating in Monsea, with or without the money she’d lost in the sales to the zilfium importers. Students crossed the paths together, laughing, shouting, not even looking around, as if their surroundings were nothing to them. Giddon hated them, then was ashamed for hating rich, self-centered children. He’d been that kind of child.

The campus was built on sloped land that rose to a place where a long stairway began, climbing steeply to the crest of a hill. Atop that hill sat a big white building with wide columns and a dome: the Keep, which had used to be the home of Winterkeep’s monarchs. Flags flew to either side of the building’s entrance, a deep blue sea below a sky of gold. At the bottom of the sea lurked a large purple shape, rather formless. On the water’s surface, purple silbercows swam.

They stopped at the base of the steps. “I almost forgot,” said Giddon, who hadn’t forgotten at all, but wanted it to seem like an afterthought. “We saw you walking with someone I know, a woman from home named Trina.”

A knowing light came into Arni’s eyes. “Ah, yes,” he said, “Trina. She’s a well-known figure here, but one around whom we’re all a bit awkward, I’m afraid. Of great use to many, yet few invite her into their homes. Or their banks,” he said with a quick, rueful smile. “I have safety-deposit boxes, you see. And personal safes, and a vault. I’m charged not only with keeping my clients’ possessions secure, but in some cases, with keeping their existence secret.”

“You let me into your bank,” said Hava, “not knowing what my Grace is.”

Her directness seemed to surprise Arni, who glanced into Hava’s face, almost involuntarily. Giddon wondered if he was seeking out her Graceling eyes.

“I asked your doctor, Coran, about your Grace at dinner last night,” he admitted.

“I could use it to rob your bank,” she said, which elicited another surprised glance, then a chuckle.

“I suppose so, yes,” he said, “but that would be an unexpected occupation for a member of the Monsean delegation.”