Dorian, sauntering closer to Fife. âThe Tailor warned me about you.â
âI canât imagine what he said, considering he doesnât know me at all.â
Dorian snorted. âWell, listen up, Little Dulcet. It will be my privilege to escort
all
of you safely to the Northerly Court, without regard to parentage or prettiness.â
Lottie blushed. She turned to avoid Dorianâs gaze, but also because she had something to say to Mr. Wilfer.
âI canât go,â she said. âI wonât.â
âItâs been a month,â Eliot piped up timidly. âMy dadâs been really understanding about everything, but heâd be so upset if I didnât come back for the holidays.â
âThen let the human child return to his home, where he belongs,â said Silvia. âThereâs no need for Lottie to follow.â
âThereâs every need for me to follow!â Lottie cried. âI have to stay near Eliot. I keep him well. Tell them, Mr. Wilfer.â
âItâs true,â Mr. Wilfer said. âIf she and the boy were to part, I fear it would be detrimental to his health.â
âThat is not our concern,â said Lyre.
âWell, itâs
mine
,â Lottie said. âI canât go on this great errand of yours if it means traveling north tomorrow. I promised Eliot I would go home with him for the holidays. Weâll be there for weeks. I
promised
.â
âThatâs terribly inconvenient,â observed Dorian, who had pulled a pipe from his breast pocket and was now lighting its contents.
âItâs impossible,â said Lyre. âI told Rebel Gem I would send you to the Northerly Court straightaway.â
âWell, maybe you shouldâve asked my permission first!â Lottie shouted.
âEasy now,â said Dorian, puffing out a cloud of orange smoke. âNo need to get riled up. Maybe Lottie just needs some time to consider.â
âThereâs nothing to consider,â Lottie snapped. âI go home with Eliot tomorrow.â
âHave you told her, Lyre?â Dorian asked. âHow Rebel Gem has offered to train her in person?â
Lottie grew still. â
Rebel Gem
wants to help me sharpen my keen?â
âA very qualified teacher, too,â said Dorian. âHas anyone ever told you how similar Rebel Gemâs keen is to your own?â
Lottie shook her head. She suddenly felt as though her neck wasnât properly attached to her body.
âThat shouldnât change anything,â she said quietly.
âMaybe it shouldnât,â said Dorian. âBut itâs something to consider, isnât it?â
âTailor,â Mr. Wilfer spoke up. âSeamstress. Youâve given the children a heavy piece of news. I think it best to grant them time to think it over.â
The brother and sister exchanged a glance. Silvia gave a slow, solitary nod.
âThey can think it over, if that gives them comfort,â said Lyre. âBut regardless, the Heir of Fiske must be ready to depart in one dayâs time. No later.â
âDonât worry,â muttered Fife. âWeâll be out of this rotten dump soon enough.â
They were assigned four guards for the journey back to the Clearing. Though Lottie knew Lyre had only sent Wren and the three other guards to ensure that she and the others didnât try to escape, she was secretly grateful for their presence. She still couldnât shake her fear of whitecaps or the memory of that wisp guard slumped in a pool of blood.
Fife talked the whole way back.
âWe donât even get a say in the matter. If we donât go of our own free will, that Dorian fellow will probably kidnap us and haul us to the Northerly Court anyhow. Wouldnât be surprised if the Tailorâs sold us all into slavery.â
No one replied, but no one really needed to. Fife was content carrying on the conversation with