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stomach knotted. Patrick had always intended to be the liberator of Aecor, our conquered homeland. But while we had the same goals, his methods made him the enemy now. “Yes. Trying again, after he failed the other night.”
    James passed a hand over his stomach, the ghosts of painand confusion flickering across his face. “All right. I’ll need a description. A drawing, if you can manage.”
    Around us, guards constructed a stretcher to transport Tobiah. This didn’t feel real.
    â€œI can.” My head buzzed with magic and horror, but there was so much to do. “I can send him to search for Patrick.” I nodded toward the wraith boy, still caught in the half lurch. “You can stand now,” I told him.
    He shot me a quizzical look as he straightened and assumed normal proportions. He was blinding white, still wearing Tobiah’s Indigo Order jacket from the night of the Inundation, though the cloth was torn and dirty.
    James glanced from me to the wraith boy. “He’s under your control?”
    â€œHe is.” Saints, I hoped he was.
    The captain gave a curt nod. “Tobiah trusts you. I do, too. But I don’t think it’s a good idea to send him into the city.”
    The wraith boy, perhaps sensing my reluctant agreement, grew smaller, more placid. His indigo jacket hung down to his knees as he lowered his eyes.
    My blood-soaked gown dragged heavily as I stepped toward James, keeping my voice low. “There’s no way Tobiah can survive that wound.”
    Neither of us said what we both must have been thinking: James had survived an almost identical injury.
    He kept his voice soft. “What do you propose?”
    It felt like betrayal, giving up someone else’s secret, but he would understand. He would be protected. “I have a friend who can heal.”
    James’s eyebrows shot up. “Magically?”
    I nodded.
    The captain shoved his fingers through his hair, leaving streaks of Tobiah’s blood. “The other day, did you bring your friend to me?”
    â€œNo.”
    He pressed his mouth into a line. “What are the chances of us both mysteriously healing?”
    â€œAre you willing to take the risk?”
    â€œDefinitely not,” he said. “Where is your friend? I’ll have him sent for immediately.”
    â€œI should look for him. The Ospreys won’t trust a messenger.”
    â€œNo.” James watched as the men transferred Tobiah to the stretcher and moved him inside. “No, that’s not a good idea. Not with the people calling you the wraith queen, or after what you did during the Inundation. It’s too much. They’d panic. We can’t risk it.”
    It was a risk I was willing to take if it meant saving Tobiah’s life. But James held all the power here, so I just nodded. “I’ll write a message. I’ll draw Patrick’s face, and I’ll tell you anything you need to know. I want him caught, too.”
    â€œAnd what about your pale friend?” James’s jaw flexed as he settled his glare on the wraith-white figure, now no bigger or differently shaped than any other seventeen-year-old boy. “I can’t allow him to roam the palace, but I doubt a cell would hold him.”
    â€œI’ll put him somewhere safe.”
    â€œWill you be all right?” James reached for my arm, butstopped short of contact. The wraith boy might see it as a threat.
    I touched his arm instead. “When Patrick is in the deepest dungeon, the wraith vanishes, and all of my friends are safe: then I will be all right.”

TWO
    BY THE TIME the clock tower chimed seventeen, I’d sent messengers to the Peacock Inn and half a dozen other Osprey hideouts in the city. The messages contained orders for all four of my Ospreys to come to the palace immediately; the other four were with Patrick, including my best friend, Melanie.
    Saints, I hoped they were safe. Even the ones