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Something in her laugh makes Tawny laugh, and then the two of them are running to the edge of the cliff with Sorrel, so close I think they might fall.

But they won’t. The Paladin made this place and they protect it. They protect us, here.

Scarlet is making the rain dance and swirl around Ginger’s head, to the older girl’s delight. It still hits me every time, how free we are here, how wild and unabashedly ourselves. Every time I see a new girl feel it, this connection with one another and the world around us, it gives me hope.

Time to go, Raven says, and we are pulled away, sucked upward until we are back inside the greenhouse at Southgate. Tawny is crying openly and Ginger’s eyes are glassy. Henna looks windswept and exhilarated.

“What . . . I . . .” Ginger can’t form what she wants to say. I remember the feeling well.

“What was that place?” Henna asks eagerly.

“Look down,” I say. The three of them do and gasp.

Dark purple flowers bloom at Ginger’s feet, pale pink ones at Tawny’s. Henna’s are a brilliant orange. For several long moments, they stare, enraptured, as the rain patters on the glass above our heads.

“Tell them about the Paladin, Violet,” Scarlet says.

“Tell them about the Society of the Black Key,” Amber says.

“And you must tell us more stories, Violet!” Azure insists. “We want to know what’s happening out there.”

“One thing at a time,” I say. I take a breath and begin to talk.

Three

“SO IT’S WESTGATE NEXT,” I SAY, BARELY STIFLING A yawn. We were at Southgate all night, until just before dawn. “We’ll leave in two days.”

“I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed tonight.” Raven shifts uncomfortably in her damp cloak.

The train car is packed with workers, even though the sun has only been above the horizon for less than an hour. Lucien made all of us forged documents, assigning us as farm labor. The best way to get between the circles of the city, he said, is to hide in plain sight. No one thinks much about workers from the Marsh anyway.

On our first train ride here, I was terrified a Regimental would spot us, see through our flimsy piece of paper and cry, “Arrest them!” But everyone in the Jewel thinks Raven is dead, and no one is looking for me, since everyone thinks my sister is me. The Regimental who checked our papers barely gave us a glance.

It was the same with the other holding facilities. No one gave any notice to a few teenage farmworkers.

I watch the sun rise over the mud-brick houses that flash past the train window. This ride is so different from the train I took to the Auction. Back then I was starting a new life in a strange place, full of fear and anticipation.

This time I know exactly where I’m going—back to the White Rose. And I can’t wait to get there.

I wonder how this day will be for Ginger and Tawny and Henna. They must feel so strange, so alive, everything vibrant and new, colors more clear, scents more potent. I’m glad they have Amber and the other girls to help, to guide them. Henna connected with Air right away—there was a look of wonder in her eyes as the wind began to swirl around her, reacting to her thoughts. Scarlet showed Ginger how to make little cracks in the earth, and Tawny sent raindrops splashing upward instead of down. It never gets old, seeing these girls wonder at their own abilities. And the more of them Raven and I can get to, the stronger my hope grows.

My stomach rumbles. I hope Sil has made biscuits for breakfast. A warm, flaky biscuit with strawberry jam would be perfect right now. And a kiss from Ash and maybe a hug from Indi. Indi loves hugging.

I don’t realize I’ve fallen asleep until Raven is shaking me awake.

“We’re here,” she says.

We trudge off the train at Bartlett Station and my heart leaps when I see Sil among the crowd of carts and carriages, her horse, Turnip, shaking her sandy mane. Sil is dressed in her usual overalls and flannel shirt. Her black, kinky hair, streaked with gray at her temples, encircles her head like a wild halo.

“So,” she says, after we’ve climbed into the bed of the cart and she’s given Turnip a flick of the reins, “how did it go?”

“The usual. They were scared and stubborn at first, but when they see the pictures and then the cliff, everything changes,” Raven says.

“His Royal Keyness will be pleased to hear it, I’m sure,” Sil says. She and Lucien have a sort of grudging friendship. But I suspect they each care for the other more than they’d ever admit.

“How are things at the White Rose?” I ask.

She snorts. “You’ve been gone one night, what, you think Sienna burned the house down?”