When they finally climbed out of the hover, dawn greyed the sky. Aevryn's house was a sprawling mansion fenced off by spikes in the shape of gleaming swords. The grounds around M'yu were dotted with icy trees and sculptures of soldiers. Aevryn clipped up the path, bag in his hand. An old man with a hunched back and deep-worn smile lines opened the door for them. "Welcome home, Master."

"It's good to be here, Evriss." They moved inside, steps echoing around the vaulted ceilings. The house was dark, most of the workers likely asleep or just waking, and the grand room felt strangely empty.

Evriss looked over M'yu, head tilted. "This is...?"

Aevryn waved his hand, a look passing between the two men. "My new apprentice."

"Then I will make him accommodations accordingly." Evriss tapped at a console on the wall.

"Not the Jade Room," Aevryn said.

Evriss's head cocked. "No?"

"No. Put him closer to the library."

Evriss drew up a bit. "The Silver Room then?"

Aevryn tapped his thumb against his lip. "Yes. I think that'd be fitting."

Evriss looked at Aevryn sideways, but nodded. "As you wish, my lord." He keyed a few more buttons, and a pair of slaves appeared from around the corner. "Please change the sheets on the Silver Room. Does he have any luggage, my lord?" Evriss said, turning back.

"No. We left the Gloam as quickly as we could."

"Ahmm." The old man's eyes were uncomfortably perceptive, a bright clear blue. M'yu shifted, then walked around the huge room a bit just to get away. There were portraits on the walls with plaques beneath them, all with the z'Daras last name.

"Are these your family?" M'yu said.

"They were." Aevryn set his briefcase down, and a valet came to claim it. "Please have the hover pulled around as well," he told another, and they nodded briskly.

The amount of wealth in the room made M'yu's stomach turn. He had thought the Magnate was wealthy and ridiculously so, but that was understandable. Everyone hated the Magnate. But M'yu didn't hate Aevryn, no matter how much he'd like to. The display of everything, though—the gold plated frames, the marble floor, the rich rugs, the shimmering chandelier—it left the taste of decadent rot in M'yu's mouth. Unable to swallow it, he spat it out. "So how much do you buy your slaves for?"

Aevryn turned sharply, and the workers all froze. "Excuse me, boy?"

"I mean, I know what you bought me with. What about them?"

"Go," he said quietly, and the maids and valets slipped away. Evriss hesitated. Aevryn nodded at him, and the old man shuffled out of the room as well, closing a heavy oak door behind.

"I thought we'd already spoken about your actions having consequences," Aevryn growled.

"Consequences for who? You? We're in your own home."

"For the servants you so obviously care about." Aevryn leaned forward. "I mean, after all, what if my employees were slaves? Wouldn't your statement make them so much better about their situation? Or wait—does it just make you feel better about you? Ah, yes. High and mighty M'yu, better than the men with money because he doesn't have any. M'yu isn't corrupted; M'yu isn't selfish. Is that how you see it?"

"Aevryn—"

"Aevryn, what? This is my home, boy, and these are my people. You will be respectful, of me and them. Consider this your warning." He raised his voice and called for Evriss. When the old man entered, he said, "Move him to the Jade Room after all."

"As you wish, my lord."

M'yu swallowed thickly, cursing his own tongue and the lack of sleep that made his head ache. Shoulders tight, he followed the head servant down the hall, and up one, then two, then three and four flights of stairs. Evriss opened the door for him, and M'yu slipped inside.

"There will be servants up here shortly to straighten things," the man said softly behind him. "I hope after it's cleaned, you'll find it to your taste."

M'yu bit his lip, looking around the small but opulent room. A canopied bed took the middle, placed right in front of a large, oval window overlooking the city. Outside, a few early risers roamed the dawn, and a few late nighters snuck back into their own homes. There was a desk in the corner, dark green wood and capped with gold plated corners. There was a chair, and—rotting caps, there was a fireplace. A giant, green-bricked fireplace with enough wood stacked beside it to last through a week's worth of bitter nights. M'yu dropped down in front of it, fingers sweeping the floor. They came up clean. He shook his head.

"Is something the matter?" the man asked.

"No. I mean, not at all. I—" M'yu stared at the fireplace. "Are there one of these in every room?"

"Most, sir. The house is too large to be kept warm centrally. We only burn when they're occupied, though." Evriss cleared his throat as M'yu continued to stare. "May I make a suggestion, sir?"

M'yu glanced up, then wiped his hands on his pants, standing. "Sure."

"You shouldn't be so hard on the master. I can imagine... some of what you might have gone through lately."

M'yu chuckled softly, shaking his head.

"You may doubt it, but I can. Still, it is not Prince Aevryn's fault he came into so much money, and I can assure you he doesn't squander it."

"Prince?" M'yu sputtered. "He—I thought." M'yu swallowed, trying to get his thoughts together. "He's related to the Tsaright?"

Evriss shook his head. "To the Tsar of old. Tsaright is an earned position, just like Duke or Knight. But Prince Aevryn is royalty if not by power, then certainly by birth and right. The people here see that."

A pair of maids came up the hall behind Evriss, and he let them pass. Evriss beckoned to M'yu, and he followed the man out into the hall. The man's voice lowered. "And, so you don't make the mistake twice, there is no one in this house a slave. Aevryn does buy from the market occasionally, but he sets them free, offers to let them stay and work for him willingly." A bushy brow raised. "Most say yes."

With a knowing look, the man turned and walked back toward the stairs. "Do let me know if there is anything I can do for you, sir."

M'yu stood there dumbstruck. He sucked on the sore in his mouth, rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. Stupid. But it was all said now. He thought about going back into his room, but the girls were there and he didn't want to get in their way; he thought about apologizing to them, but didn't want to embarrass them either. Not sure what to do, he roamed the fourth floor, trying to get a feel for his new home. Temporary home, he reminded himself.

Either way, it was good to know all the corners inside your bolthole.

A shadow flickered at the end of a hall. M'yu froze. On tiptoes, he prowled across the wooden floor, then peered around the corner. Another flash of movement came and disappeared, accompanied by a soft giggle.

A smile slipped M'yu's face. "Oh, you're too fast for me," he called to the hiding child and sighed dramatically. "I guess I'll just be going then..." Taking his shoes off, he 'walked' them away, tapping them against the ground in increasingly quieter steps.

The muffled giggle sounded again, and M'yu listened for the girl's steps. As they approached, he shifted on the balls of his feet, ready to reach out and catch her.

She peeked around the corner, and M'yu froze. This wasn't a child; she was a girl with white-blonde hair that fell to her hips, about as old as he was. She jumped when she saw him, eyes sparkling. "You tricked me!" she said. "That is not very nice at all."

She flumped to the ground, her skirts floofing out around her, and pouted at him. "If you're going to trick me," she said, "you could have at least brought me sweets."

Eyes wide, M'yu rifled through his pockets, regretting not having saved at least one of the hard candies. "I seem to be fresh out."

"Then Aevryn should bring me better visitors."

M'yu laughed a little and rose. "I'm sorry not to meet your expectations." He slipped his shoes back on. "I seem to be doing that a lot lately."

"Oh, don't worry!" The girl scrambled up. "I'm not good at expectations either. I mean, meeting them. I'm the Ghost of the Gold House," she told him conspiratorially.

"Oh, yeah? Seem pretty solid to me." M'yu reached out to poke her shoulder, but she giggled and jumped away.

"Not that kind of ghost, silly!"

"Ah. My bad." He dropped his hand with a smile. In a weird way, she was the first person he'd felt at home with since he'd landed himself in jail. Trade her silk for rags and she could be half the kids he met on the streets, nowhere to go because no one knew what to do with them, no one to work for because no one thought they were smart enough. Maybe it was his mother's love for strays rubbing off on him, but he'd always tried to find kids like her a bed, and with his group if he could manage it. They knew more than people thought; they didn't deserve to be shoved to the side.

"I think we're going to be great friends," she announced. She bunched her skirts up in her hands, then took off down the hall. Just before she disappeared, she called over her shoulder, "Especially if you learn to bring sweets!"

* * *

M'yu spent the day exploring the manor. Many of the doors were locked, and swiping his new linkcard didn't let him through. He considered picking them, but he'd already spotted several cleverly placed cameras throughout the building, and there was no telling what proximity sensors he might trip if he went past the doors. So he just mentally mapped as best he could, looking for easy entry and exit points. The fence would be a problem if he ever needed to sneak on or off the grounds. There weren't any holes in the perimeter, any rusty or loose poles like in the Gloam. He could probably climb it, but those sword-spike tops were wickedly sharp. He chewed the sore in his mouth, mapping different scenarios as he trudged through the snow.

He needed to get this done with, as fast as he could, before Karsya did something stupid in the Gloam. Before his mother ran out of money. Before anyone else went to jail and died.

M'yu turned away from the fence and pulled his coat tighter. He needed three things to bring the aristocracy and all their money crashing down. One, access to the central linkcard system, where it was all stored: everyone's identities and banking information and everything the Caps had that the Gloamers didn't. Two, he needed a linkcard he could actually program with, one that didn't just open doors but opened the door to a new world, a card flexible enough to let him dodge through top-notch cybersecurity, to let him breed a virus that would kill their whole system. And three...

He kicked the snow, and it sprayed up into the wind. He needed to know how to write that kind of virus. He had ideas, hints of things he'd learned from the programming book Karsya had stolen from the school library for him. But limited to the engineer's old linkcard, he'd never had a chance to practice something of that scale. It couldn't be too different from getting around house security, though. He'd always told himself if he saw the central system's code, he'd be able to unravel it.

But he didn't know. Not really.

One of the maids hurried out onto the porch, shawl flapping in the wind. "You'd best come in, sir, or you'll be late to dinner! Prince Aevryn is expecting you."

Slipping inside, M'yu shed his coat and shoes and took off toward the dining room. The library Aevryn had mentioned must be behind one of those locked doors, because M'yu had never seen it. He could go back to sneaking and stealing and scraping by to get the tools he needed—

Or he could play nice and get Aevryn to hand him everything on a silver platter.

M'yu stopped in front of the dining room doors, took a deep breath, and queued up the pretentious Cap accent. He pushed inside.

The dining hall held a warm honey glow. The table was a golden oak, and the electric candles flickering in the chandelier cast a steady yellow light. It felt like stepping into a cozy fire. At either end of the hall, two images were displayed: one of the Capital sword-and-scroll insignia, and the other, a portrait of a young man in a crown. The portrait vaguely resembled Aevryn—the curve of the nose, maybe, the sharpness of the eyes. But the fine clothes he wore were of a style so old, M'yu wasn't sure anything like that existed anymore, even rotting in a trash heap somewhere.

"Do you plan on just standing there, boy?" Aevryn asked from the head of the table.

The room was otherwise empty, no servants that M'yu could spot, and their food had already been served. M'yu quickly took his seat.

"You realize," Aevryn said, "that most civilized people don't come to dinner without any shoes on."

M'yu looked down at his socks. His face warmed. "It shan't happen again, sir."

Aevryn narrowed his eyes. Slowly, he said, "It's also best if you are not out kicking snow at the neighbors and wandering around the fence like a lost cat."

"Understood, my lord."

"I hope you enjoyed today. It will be the last free one you will have for the foreseeable future."

"It was very good, sir. You have a lovely home."

Aevryn's fork clanged as he set it on his plate. "Alright, boy, what do you want?"

M'yu drew back. "What?"

"You haven't behaved once unless you thought you would get something for it. Go on now. Out with it."

"I don't want anything."

"Didn't I tell you not to lie to me, boy?"

M'yu shook his head. "You've given me a chance I never thought I would have. I would be..." He paused, looking for words that sounded like they'd come from a Cap's mouth. "Foolish not to take advantage of it."

"Alright, then." Aevryn threw his napkin onto the table, dinner forgotten. "If you're set on behaving, you tell me this: why did you lure me down to the Gloam?"

"I'm a thief. It was the ultimate score."

Aevryn hummed. "And where is your treasure now?"

M'yu swallowed, the warmth of the room suddenly suffocating. "I don't know. I must have lost your linkcard in the fire. I don't have it anymore."

Aevryn nodded, jaw jutting out, then picked up his fork again. "One of those statements is true."

"What?" M'yu's hand froze, halfway to his mouth.

"You don't have it because some red-headed girl does. Did, at least."

His heart fluttered in his chest. "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing. I traced her with the card's locator, but she snapped my card in half and dropped it down a storm grate. So at least we don't have to worry about her taking it to someone else."

M'yu blinked, trying to keep up. "You didn't arrest her?"

"I didn't catch her, and I had more important and fruitful things to do than pursue a thief in their own territory." Aevryn's head cocked. "Unless there is some reason I should have?"

Blood on the snow flashed in M'yu's memory, and he clenched his fist beneath the table. "No."

Aevryn spun his fork through the simple rye-noodle dinner. "No because you don't want me to or no because she's not dangerous?"

M'yu clasped his hands beneath the table. Karsya had never hurt anyone like that before. The stakes had been high. She'd been worried about him, about Lania maybe too. She must have just gotten spoken.

Aevryn tilted his head. "All three of those soldiers looked like they'd been snuck up on from behind. Was that her?"

"Karsya is not dangerous," M'yu swore. "She would never hurt an innocent person."

"And Capital soldiers?" Aevryn leaned forward, eyes piercing. "Are they innocent?"

"She's not a threat," M'yu said, voice low and desperate. Whatever happened that night, it wouldn't happen again. Karsya would look out for the other kids. She wouldn't do anything rash, not without him. She had plenty of passion and plenty of talents, but she wasn't the planner. She would get his message; she would wait. "She's not," he said again.

Aevryn pressed his lips together, nodding. "Alright, boy. Alright." He took a bite of the pasta and chewed it slowly. "So piece this together for me. What were a band of kids like you planning to do with a linkcard like mine?"

M'yu shrugged and spoke the truth. "It would have depended on what your card could do. I wasn't sure."

"And what are you planning to do now?" Aevryn glanced up from his food, gaze sharp beneath a heavy brow.

M'yu bit his lip. "I've got no—I have no future in the Gloam. You showed me that. You have a fireplace in every room here; you have people that listen to and respect you; you have tech—technology I've only dreamed about. I want that. I want to earn it from you."

Aevryn weighed him with his eyes, but like all great liars, M'yu knew what he said was true. It just wasn't true in the way the man thought it was, and it was crafted to cater to what the Cap wanted to see: a helpless thief he had plucked from the streets and dusted off.

Aevryn nodded. "Good. Then work hard. Perhaps we may get somewhere together after all."

M'yu forced himself to hold the man's eyes as he nodded and offered a tentative, deceitful smile.