e foot of the steps, and Z

d his jaw. He lifted his eyebrows a fraction, the way a man does when he's impressed by something he doesn't understand. I

oor. Zale climbed out a

t his own feet, and straightened with a sheepish grin. The driver looked at

electronic hum, and he'd noticed the floodlights too. They were blazing now. All eight of them, white and hard, pain

the front door a

d a low roll of music down the marble. The steps themselves had been scrubbed so clean they glowed. Fourteen of them. He counted them on t

en. T

al

he light with her

eal and looked like it. Her dress was emerald silk. Diamonds sat at her ears and throat. She reached him at the top of the steps and wrapped both arms aroun

dy knew it before his mind did. Eve

lumsiness of a boy returning from school, one hand patting between her

ice had broken. "Look at you. You're so tall.

were real, he could see that, real and wet and warm. She wept the way people weep for a thing they have never had to pay for. Her t

there with her hands on his face. She didn't know what he

fference. He

e, uh." He waved vaguely

with a knuckle, and tucked her arm through his. "Come i

r swallo

looked like they'd been thrown rather than painted. The portraits of the dead Aldens were gone. Nothing marked where they had hung. The chande

g in the air. Sleek, round, framed in nothing. A disk of clear glass

t for exactly on

he didn't know. The scent was thick and sweet and layered over everything. Under it, if he let himself, there was only floor polish. Nothing metallic.

id nearly everything. It felt, well, it felt so heavy before. So sad

Wow." He turned in a slow circle, gapin

old one was in terrible con

eyes drift off i

hter, glassware, a woman's bright shriek, a quartet playing something soft. He walked toward it with his aunt o

ienne called.

on a boat. He wore a navy suit that fit like a threat and held a heavy crystal tumbler of something amber. His

t with his hand already out. "The prodi

losed arou

felt the old, cold wire of reflex run up his arm. *The bones are here. The wrist is here. The throat is two steps awa

lf laugh. Gerald's palm slid across the ridged scar tissue and noticed nothing, because Zale h

r. Thanks for, yo

, twice, a heavy, patronizing pat. "This is your

empty hands. Zale watched the numbers add up behind Gerald's eyes, and watched them settle on

toward the crowd with a hand at his back. "Half the b

iving

d for one second the floor was the

ttering. Two hundred people stood in clusters with champagne flutes, in silk and diamonds and charcoal wool, and the quartet sawed at a minuet, and a w

Pale oak floorin

and kept

hands with a pale hedge-fund man, a woman in a column of red, an older gentleman with a trembling chin, and each time he softened his grip and tilted h

him around a pillar, "is someone I'm

, lean and tall, with a fine crop of iron-gray hair and a face all angles. A thin gold watch caught the light at his wrist. He

ienne said. "Tobias

shoes to his hair, and one corner of his mouth lifted, slow and bored and amused

the heir,"

, friendly shake, said "Sir, great to meet you," and forgot the name on purpose. Then Vivienne's fingers tig

ne said again, as if sayin

is head. "Sorry. Long flight. I'm,

has been with the company for twenty years, dar

a student repeating a word he'd heard

es were a flat, washed-out gray. They sta

mug. Warm glass. The champagne would go flat and warm in his grip. That was the point. Every part of him wanted to hold it the way he'd been taught to hold anything, loose and ready, the fingers

wet his lip with it. He did not drink. Zale logged th

I used to tell him so." The smirk came back, thin and easy. "It's a

e pulled tight al

gig

e entirely. "Oh, yeah. Dad always said I didn't have any. Ambition, I mean. He said

gently. "I don'

quiet click of a man closing a file. *Nothing here. Nothing to worry abo

open and foolish an

with a wire curling out of his collar into his ear. A third, Zale guessed, near the front hall, because Crane kept glancing that way between sentences, the quick, automatic check of a ma

so that the glass wall of the windows was behind someone else and the plas

nd made a face. "Is this the good stuf

od," Vivienne

t, empty smile. "So what do you do, exactly? At th

's lip twitched. "I

squinted. "

ng like

the stuff? The, what

voice for a child asking why the sky was blue. "Othe

at that. I can't even keep a budget. I lost, li

ure yo

his head, a puppy trying to follow a command.

e's head. Vivienne made a small, strangled sound. Bes

t him for a lo

cufflink at his left wrist, a small twist, the gesture of a man delighted with himself. "Sometim

histled low.

business

dded gravely.

approach. He thought of the cufflink. He thought of the way Crane's left hand lifted to it whenever he was pleased with himself, which meant a pulse point exposed on the inside o

, he said. Th

y little clink. "This has been awesome. Sir. But I think the jet l

arm, her eyes still shining. "Go. Breathe. W

two fingers from his glass in a

le grinned. "L

m, nodding at faces that meant nothing. He passed the thin man at the terrace doors. The m

or sighed sh

is face li

ne and pine. Nothing else. No lilies. No perfume. Behind him the party dulled to a muffled hum. Ahead, the grounds ran down in dar

ile dr

e, loping clown slid off him like a coat. His spine straightened vertebra by vertebra. His hands, relieved at last, curled into themselves, th

ll for a long mom

rom handling. He opened it in the thin light spilling from the window. A column of names

as C

sed down, slowly, as though he could f

y to the dark. "Let's see how

h the pines. Behind h

unt be