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“Fiore is a council member. We can cut through so much red tape and talk to Abigail tomorrow if I can convince them to permit it.”

“Isn’t this the person you’ve described with multiple synonyms for hate?”

“Yes.”

“A sentiment I believe you told me was mutual?”

More impatient. “Yes.”

“Who last saw you when they had to peel you off the floor?”

At last Avery faltered. “Apparently, yes.”

“So, why do you think this is a good plan?”

Avery’s tone was so matter-of-fact, Saga might have thought she was explaining simple mathematics. “Because they are dining with Esteri, who adores me, and I intend to exploit that as the shield it is.”

“You hear yourself, right?”

“I’ll return, order in my absence.” And she was gone.

Saga sighed and turned to the waiter only to realize, very smartly, he was also gone. With no other option, she made her way to the counter in the center of the café that encircled the large oak. Her eyes followed the orbs of light lazily drifting over her head.

“What can I get you?” A harpy behind the counter shifted over with a friendly smile and wings so golden they shimmered in the amber lights. “As a heads up, if you’re looking for Fly Catcher,42 we’re out of grape.”

Saga shook her head. Would she ever get entirely used to this? A society that had been living parallel to her own, inhabited by all manner of creatures she never would have dreamed meeting outside of books? “Can I see a tea menu?”

“Certainly.” The harpy snapped his fingers and a handful of the will-o’-the-wisps looped their way down in front of Saga. They danced over the counter, painting with light until they had provided a list of the currently available teas. “Let me know what you’d like.”

“Oh…” Saga blinked at the glowing menu that lay before her like a small book. “I didn’t realize there were so many options…”

“The seasonal spice is good,” a voice to her right offered. The young woman who’d accompanied Mercy Radu at the courthouse smiled at her from one stool down. “If you’re not opposed to cinnamon, that is. It’s very of the current season.”

“Sounds heavenly, thank you.” To the harpy behind the counter, she asked, “Could I have two afternoon tea services with the seasonal spice, please?”

“What section are you in?”

“Winter.”

He placed a wire stand with a painted wooden base on the counter. It reminded Saga of the stands they used in the café to hold order numbers so they knew where to find the customer. “Place your finger on this, please.”

Saga reached forward, placing her index finger over the small snowflake design as indicated. There was an odd sucking sensation on her fingertip briefly, then blue light sparked from the snowflake, dancing and intertwining with the metal of the stand until it reached the top, exploding like a small firework into an oversized glittering white snowflake between the tines that would normally hold the order number. “Oh.”

The harpy winked at her. “Go ahead and take that to your seat, we’ll bring it when it’s ready.”

Saga picked up the stand, watching the way the magical snowflake glimmered and emitted the faintest blue light. She wondered if it would shoot off fireworks again when the waiter came close with their food. She looked back at the girl who had given her the tea suggestion. “It’s Roxanne, right? We met the other day.”

The young woman smiled the way you do when you aren’t used to being remembered. “And you’re Saga.”

Saga glanced back at her seat. Avery was still nowhere to be seen. It wouldn’t be rude to talk a moment. Especially when she felt she owed this girl so much. But how did one even broach that sort of subject? “I like your earrings.”

“Oh…” Roxanne brushed one of the heart-shaped charms with her fingers as if she’d forgotten which pair she was wearing. “Thanks. They were a birthday present.”

Saga bobbed her head and sighed. “I’m sorry, this is awkward, but Avery told me you’re the one who encouraged her to share my mother’s trial with me.”

Roxanne’s blue eyes widened and she looked a little paler. “I didn’t mean to be weird—I hope that wasn’t overstepping my bounds. It’s just that assistants are required to review everything we make copies of.”

Saga laughed sympathetically. This girl was speaking so fast her own brain was struggling to keep up.