The Demon’s Surrender

She met Sin’s gaze head-on all the same.

“I would never betray the Market,” she said. “Or you. I want you to know that.”

“I think you know I have a few reasons to doubt it,” Sin said, sliding out of her school skirt and reaching for a pair of jeans.

“I was offered the earrings,” Mae said. “I took them. I’ve got my reasons.”

“Your brother.”

Sin sat on her bed squashed up against Lydie’s, using one hand to draw Lydie against her side and her other to roll her socks off. Lydie snuggled into Sin’s side, her head butting her sister’s collarbone hard, and Sin tried not to think of losing her, of how that might be.

“My mother.”

Sin looked up, startled, and saw Mae’s face, cold and set as it had never been before her mother fell at a magician onto bloodstained cobblestones.

“The Aventurine Circle killed her,” Mae said. “I’m going to make them sorry.”

Sin thought about her own mother falling, about the world going dark as the creature inside her smiled. If there had been anyone to blame but the demon, if there had been any way to take revenge, she might have wanted it too.

“You want the magician who killed her?”

“No,” Mae said. “I know who brought the Circle into the square. I know who gave the orders. It was the leader’s responsibility. I want Celeste Drake.”

“We all want Celeste Drake,” Sin told her, with great patience. “That’s why we’re here.”

“We don’t all have access to the magicians,” Mae argued. “I do. I know that the reason the Circle hasn’t attacked yet is because Gerald has been—”

“Going after Alan,” Sin finished for her.

Mae stood briefly stunned. Sin could practically see her thoughts regrouping like tiny soldiers behind her eyes, and spoke before Mae found another route of attack.

“Which, I might add, we’d all already know if Alan Ryves hadn’t decided to withhold the information in case it makes his demon brother start helping out the side of evil.”

There was a wry twist to Mae’s mouth that said she might agree on the topic of Alan withholding, but she said loyally, “He’s going through a lot. And it was brave of him to go through it alone.”

Sin closed her eyes for a moment. “I know it was brave.”

“And you don’t understand,” Mae said. “I meant, I want Celeste Drake personally. I want to kill her myself. I’ve got a gun,” she continued, the words tumbling out in a rush, as if she’d been dying to tell someone else her plan. “I’ve carried it every time I went to see the magicians. One day I’ll get the chance to use it and get away afterward.”

Sin stood up and stretched; she couldn’t help a soft, incredulous laugh. “Well. That should be easy.”

Mae certainly didn’t think small. Sin thought about Nick saying Mavis doesn’t stop until she gets what she wants.

The corners of Mae’s mouth turned up a little, tentatively moving toward a smile. “So you believe me.”

Sin rolled her eyes. She reached out and laid a palm for an instant against the curve of Mae’s cheek. “Oh, honey,” she said. “What you’re saying is so completely insane, I have to believe you.”

Mae did smile then, dimple flashing, looking about five years old, and Sin withdrew her hand and tucked away her relief that Mae didn’t mean to betray the Market, that she was still something like a friend.

It didn’t matter what she felt. She had to lead.

“If this puts the Market in any more danger than it’s in already,” Sin said, “you should know, I’ll tell everyone you’re working for the Aventurine Circle. And if I do that, one of us will kill you. The pipers could make you dance out into traffic. I could knife you at thirty paces. There will be nothing you can do to save yourself.”

Mae looked down at the floor and took a deep breath.

“You should know,” she said, “I’m not just doing this for my mother. I’m going to kill Celeste Drake, and I’m going to take the necklace. I’m going to take the Market. There will be nothing you can do to keep it.”

Sin leaned against their tiny stove, standing directly across the room from where Mae was leaning against the little table. There was barely a foot of space between them. When Mae looked up and met her eyes, Sin felt as if they should be standing ten paces away from each other, ready to duel.

There was a knock on the wagon door.

“Cynthia?” Alan said. “It’s—”

“The only person at the Market who calls me Cynthia?” Sin called out. “Come in, Alan. Oh, I’m only half- dressed, but I don’t mind.”

“Um,” Alan said. “I’m bashful. I’d be sure to blush, and I have red hair. It’s not a pretty sight.”

“Since Sin apparently has her kit off, I doubt anyone will be looking at you,” said Nick, and he pulled open the door before Sin recovered from the shock of hearing his voice at all.

When he entered the wagon, Lydie scrambled backward on the bed until she had her back to the wall. Nick’s black eyes followed the movement.

“I didn’t say you could come in,” Sin told him, brushing by him to snag a shirt to put