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“For atonement,” Ren answered.

“Ah. I was wondering where this was going. Blood money.”

Ren nodded at that. “Far better than no money at all. That’s what will happen, by the way. The investigation will turn up no suspects. It will be framed as a mystery. One that you cannot investigate because you have no access to the Heights. No contacts that could inform you otherwise. You’ll be left to pick up the remnants of this store on your own. Justice is not waiting around the corner. It’s already been decided. You will lose.”

“So, what, you think you can just buy your way out of this?”

Ren couldn’t help admiring Marlow’s resolve. It was a proper woman, raised in the Lower Quarter, who would spit at such an offer. She tried a different approach.

“Do you know the name Roland Monroe?”

Marlow’s eyes narrowed. “He was one of the men who organized the Canal Riots.”

Ren nodded. “I am his daughter. House Brood was responsible for his death. I’ve spent most of my life trying to access the power that killed him. I am not truly a Brood. There’s no gold running through these veins. Only the same iron that’s in yours. I have, however, been afforded a rare opportunity. I am inside their pretty little house now. I have every intention of burning it to the ground, but before I do that, I would use the resources at my disposal to do some good.”

She reached into her jacket pocket and held up a fresh money slip from the bank.

“Name your price.”

Marlow looked like she still wasn’t sure whether or not to believe any of this. When Ren maintained her serious expression, she snorted. “Sure. Twenty thousand mids should do the trick.”

“That’s just for repairs?”

Marlow nodded. “Yes.”

“You mistake me. This is not an invitation to make ends meet. Dream bigger. I don’t want the number that will restore the teahouse to what it was. I want the number that would help you make it what you’ve always thought it might be. Once you have that number, write it down.”

Ren slid the blank money slip across the table. Marlow chewed on her lip for a moment. She reached out, picked up a writing utensil, and scribbled a figure. Ren didn’t even look at the number. She turned the slip around and nodded once.

“I’ll make sure this money arrives in your account. Before I go, I have one more question for you. If you wouldn’t mind…”

* * *

Ren found Theo waiting in the alleyway. Marlow had written a list for Ren. She slid that piece of paper into his waiting palm. “Names and addresses,” she said. “Those are the victims. Everyone who got hurt that night. Marlow marked the ones who would appreciate a visit. She also marked the ones who would prefer a faceless deposit in their account.” Ren drew a little closer to him. “I know some of those names, Theo. Aunts who played cards with my mother. Friends I went to school with. If you want to be a different kind of Brood, it starts right now. It starts with them.”

Resolve flowed across their bond. She didn’t need to look him in the eye to know that he fully intended to make all of this right, or at least as right as it could be made with deep pockets and a few apologies. She knew it was better than what any other Brood would have done.

“I have an appointment at Balmerick,” Ren said. “Agora’s waiting for me.”

He nodded. “Take Vega with you.”

The stone bird fluttered slightly before settling once more on Ren’s shoulder. She tapped one of the stone talons before nodding in return. “You’re doing the right thing, Theo.”

“Because of you.”

A final look, and then they both headed their separate ways.

44

Ren strode across a desolate campus. Classes had been canceled to give students time to mourn and recover. She saw overly dedicated students perched here and there, but for the most part it was a ghost town. Ren wanted to confirm her new position with the Broods to Agora and hoped to alter her course load accordingly.

Before she visited, however, she silently returned to where it had all begun. There was the familiar grove of trees. Ren envisioned the ghost of Cora Marrin walking past, waving briefly before ducking inside that waiting building. The doors had been bent by the force of their wayward magic. There were ropes signaling the whole building was off-limits. Ren glanced back, and when she was certain that no one was watching, she ducked under the rope and went inside.

All the braziers had been doused. Only morning light, slightly diffused by the bone-thick windows, offered a view of the damage. Scorch marks on the walls. All their lit wicks had burned holes down through the wax display. Ren walked in a slow circle. She passed the seats where Theo and Clyde had been. She could still see Theo’s boot heel pressed into the wax canal, a taunting smile curling his lips. Ren continued around the circle.

Here was the spot where Avy had taken his feet. All the veins in his neck flexed in anger. His voice like a warning. She passed the seat where Cora had nervously hissed for Avy to stop, biting her fingernails the whole time. Finally, Ren arrived where she and Timmons had been seated.

The room was empty. The chairs vacant. Except for their ghosts. She glimpsed her friend seated there with perfect posture, silver-white hair glittering in the light of the candles.