Page 31

I shuddered for only a second, but he saw it. I sank my nails into the palms of my hands until they screamed. “I never gave them the chance to ask it of me, Patrick. I was gone before the dust settled.”

He looked at me as though I’d disappointed him, turning his eyes away and making a noise in the back of his throat.

“Play a game with me,” he said then. The coin was back in his hand, dancing over his knuckles.

“A game?”

“Yes, Nina, a game. Now, you might look and talk like a rich girl, but we don’t have bridge or croquet here in Kenton, so you’ll have to settle for a poor man’s game.”

“Are you claiming poverty?” I scoffed. I flattened the lapel of his well-tailored coat as I said it and thought I saw his neck tense at my touch. “Strutting around with your pocket watch? Never seen a miner’s son with such polished shoes.”

He sighed. “Do you want to play my game or not, princess?”

Sweet victory. “Fine.”

“Heads, you answer a question. Any question.” His eyes bore into mine.

“And tails?” I asked.

“Tails, I’ll answer one of yours.”

I nodded, perhaps too eagerly.

He flipped the coin in the air, and it landed heavily on the ground between us.

“Heads,” he said, and the profile of Lord Tanner glistened up at me.

I braced myself.

“What was it like in that school?”

Not the question I’d expected. “Shiny. Flip it again.”

Patrick tossed the coin into the air. “Heads. What did they teach you?”

“Life drawing, painting, clay modeling, performing arts, earth Charming,” I listed. “Those were my favorites.”

He threw the coin in the air. “Heads.” I stared at the coin, exasperated. Patrick looked indifferent. “Did you ever think of home while you were there? Did you ever regret your choice to be an Artisan?”

“That’s two questions.”

“Pick one.”

I shifted uncomfortably. “I tried not to think of home. Not much back there to think of.”

“Not your family?”

I gave a tight-lipped smile. “Flip the coin.”

He did so without looking at it. “Heads. Did it bother you to be surrounded by frauds?”

I stared at the traitorous coin and bristled. I supposed there was little point in lying. “Sometimes.”

“Heads. Did you ever feel like a fraud?”

“Does this coin have another side?”

He flipped Lord Tanner’s face over. A canary glinted back at me.

“Answer the question,” Patrick said softly.

Anger burgeoned between my ribs. “Every day there. And all the ones since.”

He nodded. Another test, it seemed. One I seemed to have passed this time. He tossed the coin. Lord Tanner’s profile sat face up in the grass.

“God, have mercy—”

“Did you ever think of leaving?” he asked.

I sighed. “No.”

“And did you ever think of me?”

The coin lay forgotten.

Catastrophe waited between us, something that ought not be touched or turned over. The grass whispered, my chest ached, and Patrick’s eyes were more all-encompassing than the redolent sky.

I bit my bottom lip, and his eyes traced the movement. Then I took the coin from the grass and tossed it into the air. “Tails,” I said. The spell broke, though he moved no farther away. “Do you truly believe your father is alive?”

He spoke without blinking, lips barely moving. “He’s alive,” he said. “I only need to know where he’s being held.”

“And you’ll tunnel beneath?”

“And we’ll tunnel beneath.” He gestured to the coin before me. I tossed it once more into the air and watched it land. Heads.

“What did he ask you to do, Nina?”

A jolt of panic rattled through me. It wasn’t necessary to ask who he was. The venom coating the word was clarity enough. It seemed Patrick wasn’t expecting an answer, or at least not an honest one. Already he turned away, the question futile.

I wished he looked as off-balance as I felt. I hated feeling so unsteady while he remained completely self-possessed. Did he not feel the ground shifting beneath us?

With effort, he tore his eyes from the horizon, extracting a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it. The smell reminded me of Scurry, of the single-room town house I’d been born to—bricks and plaster impregnated in ash.

He turned with an open case, offering me one, but I shook my head in distaste.

“You don’t smoke?” He raised his eyebrows, surprised.

I shrugged. “Can’t stand the smell.”

“Have mercy,” he muttered, throwing the cigarette into the grass and stamping it out with his foot. He stood then, Isaiah following suit. The dog lapped at his fingers, expecting adventure. “Come on, Scurry girl,” Patrick said, offering his hand. Confidently. Expectantly.

We were twelve in a courtyard again, only this time, the name was a caress, the rumble of his voice cradling the words.

“Is this the part where you drag me back?”

For a moment, he seemed to consider it. “Temptin’, but I get the impression you’d only pick the locks. You said you wanted to see Kenton Hill, didn’t you?”

I stared at his hand like it bore teeth. “And you’re planning on escorting me?”

It seemed he’d grown bored of my hesitancy, because he bent to take my hand from my lap and pulled me upright.

His hand remained around mine for longer than necessary, thumb pressed to knuckles, fingers curling over mine.

Every inch of his skin burned hot.

“If you plan to skulk about town, I’d better come with you.”

“And what if someone recognizes the infamous earth Charmer?”

“Who, Nina Clarke?” he said, finally dropping my hand. “Never met her.”