'What of it?' asked Ironfoot, who had been whistling along.
'These are the enemy, aren't they? How can that be? They seem so kind.'
'Tell them you're a Seelie spy and see how kind they are to you then,' said Silverdun, winking at her.
It was at moments like these that Empathy was not a gift at all. A chaotic rapture of threads pulsed around Sela, at the edge of her vision, wanting to draw her in. She wanted to be drawn in. How many of them could she kill, right now, if she chose to, before they could strike her down? How much of the joy could she drown out?
When surrounded by happiness, she thought automatically of pain. Lord Tanen had taught her that. The precipice loomed, always waiting to claim her. If she gave in to the joy, if she let the rapture wash over her, she would be annihilated. At Copperine House, they'd told her that this simply wasn't true, that she'd been taught to believe that in order to fulfill Tanen's cruel desires for her. But she knew that he'd been right all along. If she let herself get lost in the festival, she would never return from it. The thought terrified her to her bones.
As they ascended, the crowds grew smaller, the lights fewer. The higher tiers were reserved for the homes of the wealthy and the palaces of government. When they ascended the final broad swath of steps to the Opal Tier, the second highest, Sela was out of breath, but Ironfoot and Silverdun weren't even breathing hard.
Silverdun consulted a map, as inconspicuously as possible. 'It's this way,' he said, pointing down a narrow street. This was one of the more dangerous parts of the expedition. If they were stopped by the City Guard, it would be difficult to explain their presence on the Opal Tier, which was populated exclusively by the homes of the wealthy.
A few carriages passed them, but none stopped. Here and there, revelers in bright costume piled out of cabs and carriages, happy and tired after the night's festivities.
They reached their destination without incident. It was a two-story brick home built on a semicircular bluff that extended over the lower tiers of the city to give an unobstructed view of Preyia. These, Silverdun told them, were called Bow Villas, because they occupied the foremost position in the city as it moved forward through the air. Thus it was always above and, more importantly, upwind of, the rest of the city- which, Silverdun said, was reputed to smell vile during the summer months.
The door was opened by a slender woman in an expensive silk dress. Sela would have loved to own such a dress. Starlight, the actress back at Copperine House, had owned one very like it.
'May I help you?' asked the woman.
'We've come to retrieve a package from Hy Diret,' said Silverdun. It was the agreed-upon sign.
'Of course,' said the woman. 'I believe I've got it here somewhere. Do come in.' Her response meant that all was well. If she'd said to come back another time, it would have meant that the mission had been compromised somehow.
Sela was beginning to think that this would be easy.
'Welcome,' said the woman. 'My name is Elspet. I'm so glad to see you.' She ushered them inside. The home's interior was elegant, but sparsely decorated.
'We do what we can to maintain appearances,' said Elspet, noticing Sela's look. 'My husband manages the central bank, and we're expected to live in a certain manner.'
'How so?' asked Ironfoot.
'Aba counsels us to live beneath our means,' said Elspet. 'All of this finery on display could be used to feed the poor. But as I said, we can do more with the wealth we save than if we were to earn nothing at all.'
Silverdun looked wistful as the woman spoke, but it was hard for Sela to understand why.
'But you're not here for me,' said Elspet. 'Come, I'll take you to Timha. He's desperate to meet you, as you can imagine.'
She led them through the house and out back, where a large balcony, itself nearly the size of Copperine House, overlooked the city's leading edge. There was a small garden with a patch of grass, and flower boxes affixed to the incongruous-looking spar that rose out from beneath the balcony.
At the far end of the balcony was a small flier dock, with a sleek yacht tied there. Close to the house was a carriage house, from which a wooden driveway extended toward a gate at the main home's side.
Elspet took them up a flight of stairs on the side of the carriage house to its second floor. 'He's been staying in here,' said Elspet. Sela looked out from the top of the stairs and was awash in wonder all over again. From here she could look out and see the moon and the stars and ground beneath her, with nothing whatever to obstruct her view. It felt as though she were flying. Of course, she realized, she was flying.
They went inside. Dim witchlamps illuminated a small guest apartment
