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choice. “A mirror reflection only of what you feel, but I think I can imagine it.”
    Ariel looked at her then, instead of the sky, instead of the horizon that surely beckoned to him. “Out of a thousand different winds, I think I can resist nine hundred and ninety-nine of them.”
    Now she was the one unable to swallow. “And the last one?”
    “That one wrenches the beating heart from my chest, the blood from my veins, the marrow from my bones.” Grasping her hand, he brought it up to his face and rubbed it against his cheek. Pain radiated from his pale skin, from his eyes, from his lips when they grazed her knuckles. “You’ve two birds to do your bidding, my fair huntress, but I want you to choose me, to love me above all others, to make the pain in my soul worthwhile … or I would be free of you.”
    The very idea that he would leave caused electrical charges to pop and snap in a halo around her head. Thinking she might conjure lightning bolts for earrings at any second and frizzle them both to a crisp, Bertie forced her mind to go carefully blank. The expression she summoned was deceptively serene as she imagined the death masks of Sedna’s Guardians, felt the cool glass slide into place over her features. “I don’t want you to be in pain. The next time that one in a thousand winds calls to you, heed it if you must, and come back if you desire it.”
    Ariel went similarly still, all winds disappearing into some unseen, dark place inside him. His eyes were a glassy black, though not with anger. Bertie had witnessed Ariel’s temper before, strong enough to shatter glass, or subtle with a cutting edge; this was more frightening than that. “The illusion of freedom is just another sort of prison—”
    But whatever else he might have said, the words were silenced by the sudden and disconcerting appearance of Waschbär at Bertie’s elbow. A droplet of sweat—a portent most ominous—trickled down the side of the sneak-thief’s whisker-bristled face.
    “I apologize for interrupting, but you’re wanted in the main square,” he said, very nearly out of breath. “The Queen has sent a messenger for you.”

CHAPTER FOUR
     
Another Spur to My Departure
     
    “Come!” Waschbär continued, infecting both of them with his urgency. “Nate and the others are waiting in the central marketplace!”
    Bertie trailed him down the nearest set of stairs, casting a desperate glance over her shoulder to see if Ariel followed, but the air elemental had turned away, his hands clenched and shoulders hunched.
    Is tonight the night he’ll scent that one-in-a-thousand wind and leave for good?
    She would have turned back to ask, but the sneak-thief had a death grip upon her elbow and gave every indication he would toss her bodily over his shoulder if she resisted. Dozens of childhood memories surfaced of the Stage Manager hauling her off to the Theater Manager’s Office while uttering no end of dire threats and recriminations, usually warranted. Dread and guilt formed a sickly ball in her middle as Bertie wondered what sort of crime she might have inadvertently committed.
    “What does the Queen’s Messenger want with me?” she finally demanded.
    “A better question is what Her Gracious Majesty wants with you.” Reaching the street, Waschbär avoided all the lesser-trafficked walkways in favor of a main thoroughfare, clogged though it was with late-night diners, eager merchants, and moonlit performance artists.
    “That’s no reason to be nervous,” Bertie said through clenched teeth when a bit of rough stone scraped the bottom of her bare foot. “Plenty of royalty graced the seats at the theater. One queen can’t be that different from the others I’ve met.”
    Waschbär stopped then, only to turn on her, a near snarl raising one corner of his mouth. “Pah! Those queens were mere shadows of Her Gracious Majesty, reflections cast by mirror and glass and water.”
    “It’s not like I could know that!” Wholly