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“Of course I can. I won’t do it for free, though. And it’ll take time. Tell you what — I’ll start you off with a little account, and when the gems sell I’ll just take it out of your principal.”

The words bounce right off, leaving me no more illuminated than before. “Whatever you think is best. I’ll be indebted to you.”

“Trust me, darlin’, for my fees, you won’t be.” He winks. “But I’ll set you right, don’t worry.”

“I’ll leave these with you.” I push the bag toward him and he shakes his head vehemently.

“Not a chance I want that sitting in my office. One at a time.”

He takes one box out, a broach my mother was gifted by the lamia king to commemorate my birth. Seeing it leave my possession gives me a pang. But they’re just objects. My familyremains in my memories. Someday, Elsabeth and I will reunite, and we’ll keep the memories alive together.

It doesn’t take long for Maddox to send me a note confirming that everything is set up, and detailing how to access the money. He also sends over a sheaf of papers — by courier, not crow — listing apartments and houses that can be rented or bought. I pore over them carefully, but they leave my head spinning. Each sheet has a plethora of numbers and terms I don’t understand, leaving me painfully aware of my inadequate understanding of the world.

The answer is to recruit someone whocaninterpret all this, and I only know one other human besides Ezra who might help.

31

EZRA

“They’re in the office.” Orion leans around the corner.

I hang up my apron, glad the night’s over. Things have been kind of tense at the apartment — Fitzie’s clearly hurt I didn’t tell him about Lysander sooner, but he covers it up with snark and he doesn’t say anything about Lysander coming over. While I’m guilty as hell because I’m still keeping secrets.

“Thank god.” I run a hand through my hair. “Sorry, I’m gonna leave you with the tills.”

“Man, I hate counting,” he groans.

I feel like a naughty kid going to the principal’s office every time I knock on Syril’s door. It doesn’t help that the door opens on its own to reveal Syril at their desk with a pair of silver-rimmed glasses perched on their nose, poring over a stack of papers.

“Come in.” Syril waves me in, not looking up. Their shadows retract across the floor.

“Hey.” I shut the door behind me.

Syril takes the glasses off. “Are you looking forward to the regatta?”

“The what?” I ask dumbly.

“The boat race — the Crossing.” Leaves rustle as their head tilts. “I hear Lysander will race with you.”

“Uh, right.” I pull out the chair and sit. I completely forgot that I’m gonna be representing the entire human race at the next festival. “He said he wants to join, if that’s alright.”

“It’s his choice.”

“Will he be safe away from The Sanctum?” I suddenly wonder.

“A dryad’s territory is wherever they are. While I’m there, he’ll be as safe as he can be,” Syril says.

“The last thing I want is for him to have to protect himself again.” Or protect me. “I can’t help feeling like I was responsible for last time.”

Syril’s carved features arrange themselves into a stern look. “Lysander’s choices are not your fault. Doing what he asks is natural — he’s still a prince, even one who’s young and unsure, and he has a strong pull on people. I don’t seek to keep him in a cage.”

“Neither do I,” I point out. “I didn’t take him there because he’s a prince. I did it because he was upset and he needed someone on his side.”

“He still should have known better than to put a human in danger,” Syril says firmly. “But I understand. It’s been hard for him, being all but trapped here. I’ve tried to make it as easy as possible, yet he’s been through a lot, and there are no magic words to make it all better. I can’t hold him prisoner, only show him that he’s safest under my protection. The azeroths are not to be trifled with.”

“I’m getting that feeling.”

“You make a good ambassador to our world.” Syril’s thin lips quirk. “Now, what did you really come to talk about?”