“Your turn,” I said, seating myself on the couch beside Elspeth. “Her Majesty beckons.”

Elspeth let out a short laugh, leaning back and tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She’d recently cut her hair pixie short, but she was letting it grow back out, and now it hung just past chin length. I was a little jealous of how perfect she always managed to look. My own hair was a mess of brownish curls that the humidity had wreaked havoc upon. “At least we know she’s feeling better,” Elspeth said. Then she wrinkled her brow. “Your Amplification lessons might have to be put on hold, though.”

“I can train with Leon,” I said. Personally, I didn’t think I needed any more lessons. Now that I knew how to control my Amplification, it was simply a matter of practice, and I could figure that much out on my own. But Esther insisted I work on focusing and strengthening exercises, so I still spent an afternoon each week with her in St. Paul.

“That’s probably more fun, anyway,” Elspeth said with a grin.

I grinned back. I was glad to see that Elspeth had recovered much of her sunny demeanor. She had been devastated by Iris’s betrayal six months ago. She’d missed school and stopped eating, and eventually Esther had decided that a change of setting was necessary. Esther had sent her away from the Cities for a time.

Iris’s loss was still a grief Elspeth carried, but it seemed to weigh on her less now. She’d developed a friendship with Daniel—the boy Susannah had held captive, using his Knowing to help her search for the Remnant—and though he was back in San Diego, I knew they had stayed in touch. And she was once again active in the Guardian community.

“I heard you and Tink were attacked last night,” she said, keeping her voice low, though the other occupants of the room were busy with their own conversations.

I flicked a glance at Leon, but he’d returned his attention to his phone. “Word gets around fast.”

She shrugged. “There hasn’t been much Harrower activity lately.”

“I guess Tink and I won the jackpot. Lucky us.” I shuddered, recalling the demons slinking up out of the darkness and the way the Beneath had dragged them back into it. Rising from the couch, I nodded toward the door. “You’d better get in there before Esther sends the nurses out on a search party.”

“I’ll see you later. Let me know if you want help training, okay?” She gave me a quick hug and then disappeared down the hall toward Esther’s room.

I stood still, watching the space where she’d gone, listening to her footfalls fade.

Aside from coloring, Iris and Elspeth hadn’t much resembled each other. Looking at them, it wasn’t immediately apparent that they were sisters. But every now and then I saw the similarities between them. A certain look or gesture; the way Elspeth smiled, or how she turned her head. I had heard it now in her voice, just for an instant. An echo that sounded in my ears. Faint, almost unheard. Stirring memory.

Audrey.

I thought of the empty street last night, and the hush that had followed the battle with the Harrowers, that unearthly stillness broken only by the sound of my name. I thought of a red star burning.

Leon’s hand on my shoulder made me jump.

He smiled apologetically when I turned toward him. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Sorry, just lost in thought,” I said.

“Ready to get out of here?”

“Definitely.”

Mom was using her car to run errands, and Leon didn’t like teleporting into highly populated areas, so we’d taken his motorcycle to St. Paul. Outside, the air was as sticky as it had been the previous night, and the sun scattered bright, blinding flashes all across the parked cars. I had to shield my eyes as I walked, and when we reached the motorcycle, I found Leon looking at me with concern.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I could use some sunglasses.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, eager to escape the topic. “And Esther’s going to be fine, too. As fine as she ever is, anyway. But get this—she wants Mom to take over leading the Kin.”

His voice was pure disbelief. “Lucy?”

“Yeah, that was my reaction.” Hoping that would bring an end to his questions, I walked around the side of the motorcycle and started putting on my helmet.

But Leon wasn’t dissuaded. He stepped close to me and adjusted my helmet, tucking my hair away from my face. “Are you going to tell me what’s upsetting you?”

“The humidity?”

“You’ve been acting strange since last night.”

I bit my lip. As much as I’d wanted to avoid it, it seemed the reckoning was here. I squeezed my eyes shut and said it. “I hesitated.”

His voice was quiet. “What are you talking about?”

I opened my eyes again, but I didn’t look at his face. Not at first. I kept my focus lowered, studying the thin material of his collar, the knot of his tie. Today his shirt was crisp and unwrinkled. All buttons intact.

“Audrey.”

I swallowed. Slowly, deliberately, I raised my gaze to his. “Last night. The Harrower. Tink and I could have killed it. But I hesitated.”

His lips parted, but he didn’t speak. He stared at me, wordless, as the seconds lengthened. Silence stretched between us, while all around the noise of the city was loud in my ears. The sun blazed down. I felt sweat begin to bead on my forehead. Then finally Leon said: “You can’t hesitate.”

“I know that.”

His hand reached over and gripped mine. “This is important.”

“But doesn’t it bother you?” I asked. I shuddered again, remembering the feel of the Harrower’s throat at my fingertips. The hot beat of its pulse beneath its chilled flesh. The sound of its body thrashing. It would have been easy to end it, just a tightening of my hand, or a quick snap. It should have been easy.

It just hadn’t been.

“Of course it bothers me,” Leon said. “But it’s them or us. They want us dead. You can’t forget that.” His gaze was steady on mine. “You can’t hesitate. I need to know that you won’t.”

Or he’d go back to his tactic of teleporting me to safety, I supposed. “I won’t,” I said. “I promise.”

And hoped that I meant it.

I told Mom about my conversation with Esther later that evening, when I found her at the kitchen table before she left for the night. She was flipping through a magazine and sipping iced tea, her blond hair up in its customary bun and her Morning Star hoodie draped across the back of her chair. A hint of breeze tugged at the screen, cooling the air, but it still hadn’t rained. I grabbed a Popsicle from the freezer and took a seat beside Mom. After a minute or so of drumming my fingers against the table while I tried to think of how best to broach the subject, I finally just blurted it out.

Mom closed her magazine and stared at me blankly. Then she started to laugh. Really hard.

I groaned. “Mom—”

She held one hand up before her. “No, wait. Just give me a moment to enjoy this.”

And then she went right on laughing for another thirty seconds, pushing her chair out and actually slapping the table with her hand.

“Okay,” she said, after her mirth had finally ceased. She wiped at her eyes. “Let’s try this again. Did I hear you correctly? Is it possible I’m hallucinating? Or did Esther hit her head when she fell?”

“She seemed pretty lucid,” I said.

“And here I thought she’d never develop a sense of humor.”

“I think she’s serious. She sounded sincere.”

Mom pressed the back of her hand to my forehead.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking for fever.”

I swatted her away. “Hey, it wasn’t my idea. I am just relaying the message.”

“And entertaining me vastly,” Mom said. She took another drink of her iced tea, then leaned back in her chair. Her expression turned thoughtful. “Esther must be feeling pretty desperate if I’m her best candidate.”