“What he’s not saying is that before you get used to it, the mice make lots and lots of comments about your sex life,” I said. I focused on the mouse. “I asked for audience because I need your help. Can you wake the colony?”

The mouse looked conflicted. Normally, that would have been amusing enough to distract me from the business at hand. Normally, it wasn’t almost two o’clock in the morning, with the clock counting steadily down toward the start of rehearsals. “Why?”

“The Noisy Priestess is missing. We need to find her, but if we want to retain our access to the place where she disappeared, I need to get some sleep. Dominic is going back to the theater, and I want you and the rest of the colony to go with him.” Aeslin mice could fit in places where no human could ever go. They could escape through cracks and squeeze through holes in the foundation. And they never, ever forgot anything they saw or heard.

There was no guarantee the Aeslin eidetic memory would be enough to override the compulsion charms on the theater, but there was a chance. Given the situation, I’d take whatever chances I could find.

The mouse looked horrified. “The Noisy Priestess, missing? Vanished from our sight? I shall Ring the Bells. I shall Sound the Alarms. I shall—”

“You shall wake the colony and get them down here, to accompany the God of Hard Choices in Dark Places back to the theater,” I said firmly, before the mouse could work itself into a full-blown panic. “I’ll be there in the morning. You can sleep in shifts, and report whatever you find to either one of us, Malena, or Pax. You remember Pax, right?”

It was a foolish question, designed to snap the mouse out of upset into indignation. It worked exactly as intended. The mouse sat up straighter, pushing its whiskers back in pure outrage, and squeaked, “The man who is not a Man, but is also a Fish,” it said. “I know him well. We all know him well.”

“Good, then you know you can trust him,” I said, bending to set the mouse back on the floor. “Go gather the rest of the colony. Tell them it’s an emergency.”

“I go,” said the mouse, and put action to word, vanishing through a hole at the base of the wall almost faster than my eyes could follow.

I stayed where I was, crouched and looking at the empty space where the mouse had been. I was so tired. My grandmother was missing, and all I could think about was how nice it was going to be to crawl into my bed, pull the covers up over my eyes, and forget about all this for a little while.

It was a very Valerie reaction. Maybe I’d been trying to become her a little too hard, and was starting to lose track of the difference between my pretend self and my real one. Even more worryingly, maybe I was starting to forget which one was which.

A hand touched my shoulder. I looked up. Dominic was standing beside me, looking concerned.

“Get up,” he said, offering me his free hand. I took it. He pulled me to my feet. “You’ll be no good to anyone, not even yourself, without a few hours of rest and some food in you. You’re not letting your family down. If anything, by seeing to yourself, you’re proving you’re worthy of the trust they put in you. Now let me prove myself worthy of the trust you put in me.”

“I don’t like the idea of leaving you alone,” I said.

“I won’t be alone. I’ll have the mice, and they are a formidable force for good, when not attempting to convince me to portray the entire Covenant in their recreation of your Grandfather’s final meeting with the elders.” Dominic raised our joined hands to his mouth, pressing a kiss against the back of my knuckles. “Go. Rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“You’re both way too calm about the talking mice,” said Malena.

I had to laugh at that. It was a small, anxious sound, but it was a laugh, and I felt better afterward. “You have no idea,” I said. Leaning forward, I kissed Dominic quickly and properly, savoring the feeling of his lips on mine. Then I stepped away, pulling my hand from his. “Come on. Let’s get some sleep. It’s going to be a big day tomorrow.”

Sixteen

“Your real friends will love you for who you are, no matter how many heads or limbs or ovipositors you have.”

—Evelyn Baker

The Crier Apartments, nowhere near enough hours later

“WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU LAST NIGHT?”

Lyra’s voice cut through the fog of sleep like a knife through a swamp bromeliad. My eyes snapped open a split second before I sat bolt upright in bed, turning to stare at her.

She was standing next to my bed, arms crossed, and a deeply irritated look on her face. “Oh, good, you’re awake. Because I was awake until almost midnight waiting for you to come the hell home so I could yell at you. What the hell, Valerie?”