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And here were hundreds of them.Thousandsof them.

‘I’m sorry,’ I stammered, not knowing what the rest of my point would be – knowing only that I had to saysomethingbefore the two males beside me started thinking I’d left my voice and wits in the Underground. ‘I … I think I’d forgotten what humanity looks like.’

‘In all fairness,’ Creon dryly said, keeping his voice low, ‘you’ve had better things to look at.’

I whirled around to glare at him, the paralysis broken. He blinked back at me with unconvincing doe eyes and added, in the indignant tone of a misunderstood innocent, ‘Like fae courts and sentient mountains and divine forests …’

Next to him, Tared looked unsure whether to laugh or commit bloody violence as he chewed silently on a handful of dried apricots. A loud scream rising from the camp behind me suggested our presence had finally been noticed.

‘Right,’ I said, unsuccessfully suppressing a laugh. ‘I think I should be going.’

‘Possibly,’ Creon admitted, and although I couldn’t see the tents without turning, the sudden clamour and his narrow-eyed gaze over my shoulder did not give the impression the humans were reacting well to the sudden appearance of a fae murderer, an armed alf, and a human-like girl who had not been standingin this spot three minutes ago. ‘Just walk and keep walking. We’ll handle them, if need be.’

I nodded tensely, turning to Alyra’s warm, fuzzy weight on my shoulder. ‘See if you can fly over the walls. If I can get you in without telling the city about your existence, I’d prefer to keep you as my secret weapon.’

She puffed out her chest at that, lovingly pecked my ear, and launched herself into the brightening morning air. I turned to watch her soar towards the walls, closer and closer and …

Past them.

Good.

I nodded at Tared, then smiled at Creon – not the moment for passionate kisses, I suspected, no matter how much I wished for one. ‘See you in a couple of days.’

I didn’t allow myself to wait for their replies. If I had to linger here for a single moment more, my nerves might just get the better of me.

The camp had indeed woken up, explosively so, people in half-buttoned shirts and crinkled dresses crawling from their tents wherever I looked as I strode past. Some appeared to be nothing more sinister than innocent, desperate families, gaunt little children clinging to their fathers’ legs or half-hiding behind their mothers’ skirts. But then there were plenty of bald, burly men with the neck tattoos I knew were fashionable among Rhudaki gangs. Unshaven sailors openly wearing their clubs and daggers. Worst of all, a handful of individuals who emerged from their tents perfectly groomed and immaculately dressed and not looking afraid in the slightest; I did not want to know what sort of person could manage to maintain a proper standard of life in these barren, desperate circumstances.

Old memories stirred, rising from what seemed like nowhere.

See that man, Emmi? Editta’s hushed voice echoed in my mind, so clear she might have been standing behind me.Ifsomeone looking like him ever approaches you, I want you to run and find me. Do you understand? Get away from people like that …

I had been frightened that day, five years old and sailing on a ship for the very first time. Why in hell was I thinking of it now – of the woman who had unwillingly called herself my mother all those years?

Did she know I would be visiting the city? Had the consuls been considerate enough to warn her and Valter so they could …

Do what?Hide?

Useless, painful thoughts, and yet I did not manage to shove them back into the pit they’d come from as I walked closer and closer to the gate that the two of them must have passed through all those months ago. To my left, the silent rows of humans watched me without attacking. Before me, the heavy wooden doors cracked open the first two inches – not enough to let even a newborn child pass into the city.

A deep voice with a strong northern accent yelled, ‘Emelin of Cathra?’

Again my heart twinged. Did they realise, as I did, that I would never truly be Emelin of Cathra again?

But I shouted a confirmation, and the gate opened another fraction, enough to reveal a small battalion of armed men and women waiting for me. Any movement among the refugees stilled immediately – a larger protective force than usual, I concluded, and it was hardly a surprise. The man leading the group was tall and dark-haired, not in the dazzling, mind-clouding fae way but in the plainer, much more comfortable human sense – not looking that different from me, even though he had a full head of height on me.

Noneof them looked that different from me, really.

No fangs or scales or wings anywhere in the company that stood waiting on the other side of the wall, no purple hair orcrimson eyes, no pointed ears or flickers of alf light … It was strangely disorienting, the familiarity of the scene before me. When over the last few months had I become the sort of person to consider claws and wings normal appendages, and to be amazed by round ears and soft pink fingers and hair that didn’t range beyond the simple shades of blond and brown and black?

‘Miss Emelin?’ the leader said as I approached within a few feet of him, holding out his hand to me. A tanned, weathered hand –plough hands, Editta would have said, and damn it all, why was I thinking of Editta again? ‘My name is Delwin. It’s a pleasure to welcome you to the White City on behalf of the consulate and our people, Miss Emelin.’

Did he actually mean that? Or was he just being polite, or worse, deceptive?

Questions the fate of the world might depend upon, and presumably I wouldn’t find the answers by standing on his doorstep for hours.

I scraped myself together and took my last step forward, across the threshold no magical creature had passed before. Delwin’s hand was firm and determined around mine, betraying no nervousness at the sight of an armed alf and the Silent Death himself within earshot. An honest man’s handshake – or was I just thinking so because Iwantedto believe it?

His voice seemed to come from a hundred miles away. ‘We weren’t sure if you were used to riding, Miss, so we’ve brought a small chaise with us to take you to the city proper …’