“Well, there was a kolthulu. And some suckmonkeys. And harpies—those were the red and green flying bird things. And—”

“The things with guns? What about those?”

“I’m getting to those. Those were gneevil-gnomes.”

“Gnomes. Okay.” She eyed the third vodka. “This is so Twilight Zone. It has something to do with that scar, doesn’t it?” Her right hand made a furtive little movement toward her chest. She put it back down.

“The mark? Kind of. Sometimes people come back . . . special.” I sipped at my whiskey. At least in first class they don’t water your drinks. “I’m taking you to Paris, to the Heart. You’ll be safe there.”

And boy, it was my day to lie with a straight face.

“Since the . . . the accident, I’ve been seeing things. All sorts of things. You’re the first thing that hasn’t tried to eat me or scared me so bad I wanted to pee myself.” Her fingers played with the glass. “I’m sorry.”

She was sorry? I closed my lips over a laugh and hunched my shoulders. When I could talk without wanting to spill the truth out, I took a deep breath. “Been seeing things, huh? Weird lights?”

“Yeah. Around people, and sometimes plants. Living things. And sometimes the lights will go out wherever I am, and—what are those things, anyway? Those things after me?”

“They’re all part of the Big Bad. They’re predators, and sometimes just outright evil. See, the Big Bad is in rebellion against the Heart of All Things. There was a war, back before humans came around, and—”

“Never mind.” She picked up the third vodka and poured it down. Set the cup down, and the flight attendant came through to pick things up before takeoff. The plane started moving. “I don’t really want to know.”

“Fair enough. Just . . . Kate . . .”

She flinched as if I’d tried to hit her. It was the first time I’d said her name out loud. I tried again. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m here to protect you.” At least until we get to the Source. And then . . . I couldn’t think about it.

“Great.” She let out a short, chopped-up sigh. “Why is this happening to me?”

“I don’t know how the Heart chooses.” I wish I did. Maybe then I could’ve stayed away from you. Just looking at her hair and her sweet, aristocratic profile made both hearts inside me quiver. Why did she have to be so—“I’m sorry. You want something to eat?”

“You don’t have any CornNuts on you, do you?” It was a weak attempt at humor, and it hurt me way down deep inside.

See, I’m stone. I’m hard to hurt and pretty impossible to kill unless you know what you’re doing and you’re damn lucky. I was hatched and brought up in a stoneskin-only orphanage and sent out to make my way after they trained me and made me tough.

She wasn’t. She was soft and smooth and vulnerable. Fragile, even. It don’t cost me anything to be brave.

Oh, shit. Heart have mercy.

And here I was carrying her toward doom.

“Nope.” I felt about as tall as a runt gneevil-gnome.

“Well, damn.” She was still trying. “They were trying to kill me, those things?”

“Yeah.”

“And you saved my life.” It wasn’t a question.

The plane accelerated. It made the sharp turn to set itself up for the runway. I rubbed one of the soles of my cheap canvas shoes on the top of the other shoe. “Yeah.”

“Thank you.” She paused. “Do you have a name?”

“Uh, no. Don’t get one.” Got a control number and a smell and a territory, but no name. Called me Curly at school. I’d probably die if she ever called me that.

“You don’t even have a name? Jesus.”

I tried not to feel even smaller. “Sorry.”

“Me, too,” she said, and closed her eyes. The plane accelerated toward takeoff. She gripped her armrests, her knuckles turning white.

It was gonna be a long flight.

EIGHT hours and some change later, we landed in Paris. The jeans I’d bought her didn’t fit, but the red sweater did, and I guess she was probably happy to get out of my jacket. It was raining here, too, so she kept the sweatshirt jacket anyway and zipped it up over the sweater. She was still in her beaten-up, heel-flapping sneakers, too. One of them was still shredded, just barely held together by the duct tape I’d applied.

It was enough to hurt the Heart itself to see. We were ushered into a VIP lounge, and another stoneskin met us—one of the Inners. He had a fedora on, a long coat covered in raindrops, boots, gloves, and long dark hair that looked shiny and clean, hiding his face. A glitter of eyes deep under the brim of the hat passed over her, over me, and then winked out briefly before returning. “Well, hello. You must be the candidate.” He didn’t offer his hand, but he did bow a little. His hair swung. “I hope your flight was pleasant?”

A muted announcement in French came through the lounge speakers. Kate stared at the Inner like he’d just asked her to take her own head off. She clutched her broken purse to her chest.

I cleared my throat. “I brought her. I, uh, hope—”

“You’re to come along.” His voice was actually pleasant and smooth. Not like my gravel-rasp.

Well, the Inners. What can I say? They’re blessed.

“Oh, I . . . Gee.” I actually floundered.

“Come along, we shouldn’t linger.” He made a quick movement and turned on his heel. Kate actually glanced at me, like she was looking for directions.

Oh, hell. “It’s okay,” I lied, awkwardly. Through the wall of glass all along one side of the first-class lounge came foggy Paris light. I swear I could feel the Heart—the Heart, the big one—throbbing behind each little droplet in the mist, singing to the sun even through the rain and mist. “We’ll go together.”

She gave me the same tight smile she’d given me each time I walked up to her checkout line. Now I wondered how much of that smile was seeing under the mask of my human seeming. She hadn’t even asked about my claws or the ears or the way I’d fought us both free of the gnomes and harpies.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “If you’re going, too, I guess it’s all right.”

My heart tolled like a bell inside my ribs, and then it fell with a sick splash to somewhere around my toes. Or even deeper.

I was doomed.

WHAT can I say about the Sanctum? Well, it’s green and it’s quiet. Heartlight bathes everything, and during the day it’s easiest to get to if you stand where the glow of the north rose window of the most famous cathedral in the world should be . . . and step sideways. It’s not a step you can take physically. I offered my arm to Kate as the Inner stood watching us from the edge of the glow.

Kate put her hand through it and her tight smile didn’t waver. I stepped, she came with me, and the light burst over us.

“Oh.” She sounded shocked.

I didn’t blame her.

No matter where you step from, the Sanctum always starts you in the same place: a quiet garden full of golden light and the cloaked and hooded forms of the Inners gliding around. One of them approached us, and Kate clutched hard at my arm. “Oh,” she said again.

“It’s a bit much the first time,” our guide said. He’d stepped through right after us and crowded us forward. “If you’ll come this way, miss. Brother, Jean-Michel will show you your quarters. We’ll meet at nightfall.”

She didn’t want to let go. “Jesus—please, no—”

Smart girl. I loosened her fingers from my arm, gently. Very gently, because her bones could break before I squeezed hard. “Kate. Please. Go with him. It’ll be fine.”

“How come they get names and you don’t?” She looked up at me. “And they’re so bright.”

“You’ll get used to it.” The lie was ashes in my mouth. “They get names because they’re Inners. They’ve brought Heart candidates in. Like you.” And they get the beauty and the name.