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standing above me, fuming. He demanded, “What did you do to Brina?”
    “I didn’t do anything,” I protested.
    His knee striking my jaw bowled me over. My teeth cut the inside of my cheek, filling my mouth with the coppery taste of blood.
    “I didn’t do anything,” I said again. It hurt to talk, but I needed to convince him. “I’m sorry. I would never want to make her unhappy. Calysta killed herself. I don’t know why. She tore up the painting. I didn’t do anything.”
    Except upset her by asking about Malachi, and her past
. If Ihad been left alone with the painting, what would I have done? More than throw a rock.
    My tormentor turned when I mentioned the painting, seeing it in full for the first time. The instant his attention was off me, I changed into quetzal shape. Panicked, I darted past him.
    I heard him curse, and he reached for me, but all he caught was one tail feather, which ripped off in his hand. I struggled for a moment, off balance, but managed to get enough air under my wings to lift me higher than he could reach.
    I fled to a perch as close to the ceiling of my world as I could get, though it made me achingly aware of the wood and glass panels that limited my upward flight.
    Below, I saw Lord Daryl looking up at me, furious. Eventually he dropped the feather and went back to the painting, calling slaves toward him as he went and giving them instructions.
    He raised his gaze to me one more time and said clearly, “We will finish this conversation,” before he disappeared.
    I had absolutely no desire
ever
to finish this particular conversation.
    The stench of Calysta’s corpse still enveloped me, and the taste of blood lingered in my mouth. My tiny bird’s body still hurt.
    I dropped to the ground and changed into human form. It hurt to walk, and I was shaking so badly I was afraid Iwould fall down, but I forced myself to keep moving. The two guards normally positioned by the door were lying very still, their eyes open and staring. They must have tried to stop Lord Daryl from entering in a rage.
    That meant they had died protecting me.
    Whispering an apology and a plea for forgiveness, I tugged a cloak away from one of the guards and wrapped it around my own shoulders. I couldn’t stand to try to pull the gloves off his dead fingers, though I knew I would probably regret my squeamishness. I did take the still-burning whale-oil lantern.
    I had to talk to Taro and could only hope that the west path the guards had mentioned would take me to him, or someone who could get word to him.
    Lady Brina doesn’t want me here
. The knowledge brought a lump to my throat. I couldn’t imagine leaving the beautiful greenhouse in favor of the outside world, where it was cold and miserable, but I couldn’t stay if she didn’t want me to.
    Maybe later I could find her and explain, and ask forgiveness. She had been upset and had lashed out.…
    No. She wouldn’t have hurt me that way if she cared about me the way I cared about her. I was a nuisance.
Clutter
. Only there because Mistress Jeshickah wanted me there.
    Once again I choked back the lump in my throat. It was too cold to cry anyway.

THE INSTANT I stepped beyond the sphere of the greenhouse’s magic, the wind sucked the breath from my lungs and replaced it with ice.
    I slogged ahead, lifting my lantern to try to illuminate the fork in the path in front of me. I turned resolutely in the direction I hoped would take me to Taro, only to start second-guessing myself within moments. I had no idea how far away the market or Midnight proper, the two places the guards had mentioned, could be.
    It was so
dark
.
    I hadn’t gone far before the darkness overwhelmed the light. The trees above were ominous, reaching creatures, blocking the moonlight.
    Maybe I could see more if I took to the air. I could probably also travel faster by wing. I could be there beforeI knew it. I set the lantern down, changed shape, and beat my wings frantically as I sought the