“I’ll find you,” I mumbled. I wanted to make her tell me now, but I couldn’t find my legs, much less make them work. We all have our limits, and I’d exceeded mine.

“Okay. What you said about the memory? This may explain. And I think it’s important that you know.” She sighed. “I need you to know everything.”

“Promise . . .” I said. Something in me was screaming for answers, but the fog didn’t care. I don’t remember how long she sat there or when she left; all I remember is the fall into darkness and the half-dreamed sound of the night-haunts’ wings.

TWENTY-TWO

MY DREAMS WERE A TANGLE of twisted snapshots. April disappearing in front of the building in a hail of sparks and oak leaves; Gordan shouting in a dozen languages as she ran down an endless hall; Alexa and Terrie, bloody hands intertwined, laughing. Pale-faced knights and maidens littered the ground, and I was looking for the birds. I had to find them. A phrase kept repeating, scrawled on walls and bulletin boards: “. . . and no birds sing.” Why did it matter whether or not the birds were singing? And above it all there was the faint, constant buzzing of the night-haunts’ wings, and a voice saying, “You were my hero. I’ve had few enough of those.”

“What about the birds?” I shouted. The walls were falling, leaving me scrambling for purchase on the dissolving ground. “I have to find the birds!”

“Do you think that they will sing for you?” the voice asked, almost gently.

The world continued to fall. Someone I couldn’t see was shaking me. I thought it was part of the dream and swung wildly, only to find my arm caught. Alex’s voice broke through the remains of my dreams, vibrating with barely restrained terror: “Toby, wake up. Please.”

Panic is a wonderful stimulant. I pulled my arm free and sat up. “What’s wrong?” I was too busy processing the situation to get mad at him for touching me. Yet.

“We can’t find Jan.” He looked haggard but alert; at least someone had been finding time to rest. Connor was asleep next to me, and Quentin was curled up on the floor, using his coat as a pillow. I must have been asleep for hours if they’d both gone down, and asleep hard if I didn’t even hear them coming in.

“When did you last see her?” I stood. Dizziness washed over me. I caught myself against the wall.

“About an hour after sunrise.”

Oh, oak and ash. “What time is it now?”

“Almost eleven-thirty.”

I stared. “Why the hell didn’t you wake me sooner?” I demanded. Quentin made a small grumpy noise and rolled over, still asleep. That wasn’t going to last long.

“Elliot said to let you sleep until we were sure she was gone. Gordan just got back from checking her apartment. He said it was time to wake you.” Catching my expression, he added, “He’s her seneschal, Toby. Whether or not it was a good idea, he’s allowed to make the call.”

“I know. I know.” I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “Is her bike still here?”

He paused. “I don’t think so.”

“That’s a good sign. Everything we know about has happened on company grounds, so if her bike’s gone, she’s probably okay. You go check; I’ll wake the guys and be right there.”

“Can you find your way out?”

I felt the irrational need to comfort him, and glared. He put his hands up.

“I’m not doing it on purpose, I swear. I’m just nervous. It happens when I get nervous.”

“We can find it. Now get out.” I was willing to believe he couldn’t help it. That didn’t mean I wanted him near me. “Go see if her bike is there.”

“All right.” He shut the door as he left, and my thoughts cleared almost immediately. I shook my head, disgusted.

My dislike of Alex didn’t have anything to do with the matter at hand. Jan was missing. Oberon help us all. Bending over the futon, I shook Connor’s shoulder. He muttered something unintelligible and opened his eyes.

“Get up,” I said. “Jan’s missing.”

Connor sat up almost as fast as I had, swinging his feet around to the floor and kicking Quentin in the shoulder. Quentin staggered to his feet with eyes still half-closed, looking dazedly around the room.

“What happened?” asked Connor.

“I don’t know. They just woke me.” I put out an arm, steadying Quentin. “Wake up. Jan’s missing.”

The sleepiness cleared from his face like I’d flipped a switch. “What do we do?”

“Follow me, both of you. And stay alert.” I crossed the room in two long steps, Connor close behind me, Quentin bringing up the rear.

The halls were amazingly straightforward, running in almost straight lines. We found our way to the parking lot without a single wrong turn, bursting out the door. Elliot was outside, staring into the underbrush. He ran over when he saw us, grabbing my hands. I winced at the pressure on my wounded palm but managed not to scream or pull away.

“Please, you have to find her,” he said. “Please.”

“We’ll do our best,” I said. Anything less would have been unfair; anything more would have been a lie. Unless she’d gone off-site or locked herself in an empty office to get some work done, she was probably dead. I’m enough of a realist to know that . . . but I also knew that wasn’t the kind of reassurance he was looking for.

“That’s all we can ask,” he said, and dropped my hands. He looked smaller somehow, deflated. He’d already given up. I couldn’t blame him; he’d lost his lover, and now we both knew he’d lost his liege as well. It would have broken anyone. It would have broken me.

Alex wasn’t far away. He was standing to one side, staring at his hands. I didn’t have to ask to know whether he’d found her bike. The tears running down his face told me everything.

“Toby . . .” Quentin said.

“I see him.” Turning, I walked to the main entrance with Connor and Quentin behind me. No one followed; no one saw us go.

The halls were empty, and our footsteps echoed as we walked. It was like walking back through time to Shadowed Hills right after Luna disappeared . . . only this time we weren’t expecting to find the missing regent pruning roses in a garden somewhere. This time, we weren’t expecting to find the missing regent at all.