That evening as the sun kissed the ocean, painting the bay in a dazzling gold, Hadrian thought the city appeared abandoned. He didn't see a single person on the street, and because no donkey carts were operating on Berling's Way, he and the others were forced to walk down to The Blue Parrot. Hadrian didn't mind. Despite the blinding glare coming off the bay, a sunset walk in the growing cool of the evening was pleasant. Albert lamented this dismal state of affairs as if the sun itself, once down, would never return. Hadrian had to admit it did sort of feel that way. Matters only got worse when they arrived and found no one waiting out front.

"Is it really closed this time?" Gwen asked, disappointed.

Albert bore the weight of a worried face as he climbed the steps and tried the handle. The door swung open. He ducked his head in, pulled it back out, and flashed them a smile. "Lights are burning, and people are at tables."

"Oh, good," Gwen said, relieved. "I wanted — I mean, it only seemed right to say goodbye." As she entered, Gwen let her hand trail across the doorframe, a melancholy expression on her face. "It's such a beautiful place. The first time we were here, I kept thinking it was just a wonderful dream, that it couldn't be real, that places such as this can't actually exist." She looked at Royce. "What do you think will happen to it?"

Royce paused with her but didn't reply. She nodded as if he had, and together the two walked in.

They had no trouble finding a table. The big room beneath the great dome was less than half full. Still, all the lanterns and chandeliers were lit, and musicians tuned up in the pit, making plinks and plunks and gritty whining sounds.

"Welcome, my friends!" Atyn rushed to them, his fingers laced with the stems of wineglasses, his arms wide as if to hug all of them. "So wonderful to see you here on our . . . our last night." He squeezed his lips tight and breathed deeply through his nose. "I am sorry, this is just so . . . never mind. Tonight is a celebration! This will be an evening that people will remember when they recall the glory that was Tur Del Fur."

"Are you traveling on the Ellis Far tomorrow as well?" Gwen asked.

Atyn shook his head, looking a bit embarrassed. "No, fine lady. I . . . I would not be welcome on such a ship."

"Oh," Gwen said. "But you are leaving?"

He rolled his shoulders and shook his head. "This is my home. In all the world, there has never been such a place for someone like me." He gestured with his wineglass-endowed hands at the dome. "I am allowed to work here in this palace, to make money, to have a place of my own. I can walk the street like anyone else. I talk to wonderful people like you — who pretend, or perhaps don't care, that I am different. In Tur Del Fur, this isn't an uncommon experience — but everywhere else such behavior would be as rare as snow in summer and rain falling up because the world is upside down."

"You're just going to stay, then?" Royce asked. "You are aware what's going to happen, right?"

Atyn nodded. "I know it seems strange, but I'm not the only one. There are others like me who feel the same way. Being here gave us the chance to see what was possible but also how impossible it is to go back. Life beyond this little bay is simply not worth the effort anymore."

He set out the wineglasses on their table. "So now, for this evening, there are no specials, for everything served tonight is exceptional, and there won't be any selections because everyone will receive everything the kitchen has to offer. Enjoy."

Music began playing. The tune was lively as ever, but Hadrian couldn't help but think it sounded sad, like the brave greeting of a widow at her husband's funeral. Albert must have had a similar thought because he got up and peeked into the orchestra pit. Then he looked around before returning. "More than half of the orchestra is missing," he reported. "A lot of the wait staff, too. And yet the casino is still open. Can you believe it?"

"Oh, yes," Arcadius said. "Makes a sort of sense now, don't you think? Those who have chosen to remain are all gamblers after a fashion. All of us are taking a terrible risk. What if a storm wrecked the last few ships? What if Gravis did something to cause Drumindor to erupt early? No, the ones who play it safe, those who don't care for gambling, they left at least a week ago. Those of us still here who could have left are risk-takers. You might even say that some of us are irresistibly attracted to the thrill of coming within a breath of disaster but manage to escape its clutches at the last second. Such a heart-pounding experience makes ordinary life nearly unbearable."

"You never impressed me as a daredevil," Royce said.

"In my youth, I was a great adventurer, but even in my old age, well . . . I kept you in a paper cage for three years, Royce. You must admit that's a fair bit of risky behavior."

"Why was that?" Royce asked. "People gamble for profit. What gain was there in what you did?"

Arcadius fiddled with his napkin, folding and unfolding it. His old fingers never seemed to stop. "Men waste fortunes to climb a single mountain, Royce. It may be hard to understand, but sometimes the act itself is the reward. I would even go so far as to say that it is the best compensation. For after spending whatever money your work provides, you have nothing to show. But the man who finds satisfaction in the achievement, he will keep his treasure forever. No one can take it away — no thief can steal a memory or erase an accomplishment. And the dividends are more than the means to procure food. They are the building blocks of self-confidence, courage, respect, even admiration. I'd be wary of that last one, though, as it is a bit too much like wine." He winked at Royce who didn't appear satisfied but didn't press.

"I never actually sat in here," Rehn said, his eyes as round as his head, turning left and right. "They always stopped me at the door. I suppose I didn't look like I could afford a meal or a drink."

"In that case," Royce said, "you might want to watch out for the wine as well. It's dangerous."

"Dangerous?"

"As are the lady singers," Gwen added, but looked at Hadrian as she did. "They are beautiful but also hazardous."

"What does that mean?" Hadrian asked.

Gwen offered him a pitying frown. "It means she's not the one."

"The one? Who's not? And the one what?"

"She's not the one." Gwen repeated, this time adding a sympathetic pat on his hand.

"Good evening, everyone!" Calvary Graxton addressed the audience from the stage. As usual, Mister Parrot was dressed in his long blue coat and yellow vest. "First, I would like to extend my sincere apologies for being incapable of providing you with our signature peerless service this evening. Our staff is a bit thin tonight. There's some rumor going around that the world is on the verge of ending. I tried to explain this was no reason not to report to work, but you'd be surprised how many disagree."

The audience responded with guarded laughter. It sounded like a joke, but maybe it wasn't, and they were still sober enough to care.

"Even the parrots quit." He twirled a finger toward the dome, pointing out the absence of the birds. "Truth is, of course, I set them free. Not that they were complaining, mind you. I took better care of them than I do you. At least they didn't have to pay."

The lanterns around the hall were dimmed, and the room grew dark, making the lights on the stage appear more intense.

"For those who are joining us for the first time, my name is Calvary Graxton — Mister Parrot to those who know me. I own this place. Twenty-five years ago, I came down here and survived by capturing and selling parrots. Problem was, I grew to like the birds too much to sell — too much to even capture them. So, I shifted to cooking and selling food on the street. I bought an old cart that I painted blue with yellow wheels, and I called it The Blue Parrot. Would you believe I managed to turn a little profit?" He held up his hands, inviting them all to notice the grand hall and the magnificent dome. "Who knew? Truth is, this has been a lifelong labor of love." He paused and took a breath. "But also, it has been a wonderful privilege to have served and been a part of this community. I've come to know — became friends with — so many. Most of you will be leaving tomorrow, never to return. But for my part, I'm going to stay. I'm just too damn old to start over again. That, and I still have a cellar full of Hohura that I just can't waste." He smiled, showing this was a joke, but no one laughed.

"Tonight, however, we are pulling all the corks, banging all the drums, and ringing all the bells as a tribute to what once was and will likely never come again."

While their host was speaking, Atyn had poured wine into everyone's glasses. Then, shockingly, he poured one for himself as onstage a young boy carried a drink to Mister Parrot. Calvary Graxton raised the glass to the room. "Go forth, all of you, and tell the tale of  Tur and fishermen, the Unholy Trio and the Yellow Jackets, the dwarven towers and of the place where dreams came true"— he wiped a tear from his eye — "and most of all, of parrots of blue and a way that was new, that hopefully one day might be again. A toast to Tur Del Fur!"

"To Tur Del Fur!" the audience responded, and the sound was deep and loud.

Turning away from the stage, Hadrian saw that more patrons had come in behind them. And by the glow of the stage lights, he saw many of them were dwarfs.

Everyone including the staff drank. Even Royce took a sip from his glass but appeared neither proud nor sad. If anything, he looked oddly thoughtful.

"Now for your entertainment," Mister Parrot said. "Once more, please welcome Miss Millificent LeDeye."

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Hadrian had expected she would be there and applauded as Millie walked on stage. He had tied a bit of sailcloth to the hammer of Andvari Berling's statue that morning, indicating he wanted to speak with her. Hadrian had no idea she would perform but was pleased that she did. Her singing was nothing short of magical. She wore the same dress and, not surprisingly, performed the same song. This time around, the rendition was less spellbinding than the first, but she was still radiant in the glow of a half dozen bull's-eye lanterns, and this time he was certain she really was looking at him. He stared back, lost in the moment and trapped in a spell. That enchantment ended when he made the mistake of glancing at Gwen, who glared and slowly shook her head.

Hadrian couldn't understand what she had against Millie. He hadn't said a word about her to anyone. He supposed Gwen was making an assumption based on the way Millicent looked and maybe how he stared, but he felt there was more to it.

The song ended, and Millie went off stage. He faced Gwen. "Why do you keep —"

"Miss DeLancy!"  Tim Blue shouted for joy as he charged the table, an attractive woman in tow.

"Tim!" Gwen shouted right back, and jumping up, she embraced the lapis lad as if the two were lifelong friends who hadn't seen each other in years.

"Oh! I'm so happy we found you," Tim exclaimed. "I had no idea where to look, no clue where you might be, and this was our last chance." Tim appeared close to tears as he introduced the woman he was with. "This is my Meredith."

"Meredith?" Gwen asked, concerned. "What happened to Edie?"

Tim nodded. "Edie is short for Meredith. It's what I've called her for forever."

"How is Edie short for Meredith?" Royce asked.

"It doesn't matter," Gwen said and moved to Edie.

Tim's wife was a tiny thing with braided hair. She wore a cheap dress. The woman stared at Gwen with tears in her eyes and whispered, "I want to hug you, but I don't know if that's appro —"

Gwen pulled her tight.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you," Edie cried into Gwen's shoulder.

Bewildered, Hadrian looked at Royce, who shook his head, equally at a loss.

Gwen invited Tim and Edie to join them. More chairs were found, and they all squeezed tighter.

"Are you leaving tomorrow?" Gwen began. "Do you have passage on the Ellis Far?"

Tim nodded. "We do." He took his wife's hand. "I had just enough money left over. We will return to Avryn poor as mice in a monk's monastery, but we'll be safe. I've heard back from my family, and they will meet us at Roe. Things will be difficult for a while, but nothing so bad as they were."

"We owe you our lives," Edie said.

"I can't help feeling that we're missing something," Royce told Hadrian.

"There does seem to be a story worth telling here," Arcadius said.

Atyn came over to the table. "Sir," he addressed Hadrian, "there is a lady who wishes to speak with you."

"Millificent LeDeye?"

"One and the same, sir. She's waiting out front for you."

Hadrian stood up. "Fill me in when I get back."

Gwen took his hand. "Remember, Hadrian. She's not the one."

"And don't be out too late," Royce said. Then he grimaced and added, "We have to be on a ship in the morning."

To Hadrian, stepping outside The Blue Parrot after having gone in was always a strange occurrence. As if by some bizarre feat of magic, one world was exchanged for another. As usual, the sun was down, the evening cool, but this time the resulting world was different. The enchanting sparkle of a hundred shining windows was missing. Shops and homes were dark. Streets were quiet. No music spilled out of doorways, no rattle of wagon wheels or boisterous laughter cut the night. Tur Del Fur was an empty house after a party, and its silence was deafening.

Millie stood alone near the curb on a street devoid of life, waiting for him. "I saw the flag," she said. "You certainly took your time." She sashayed toward him. "But leaving now has its advantages. All the shops will be empty tomorrow. We can take whatever supplies we need."

"That's not why I asked to see you."

Millie stopped and stared at him, appearing confused. "What do you mean?" She tilted her head and looked him over. "And where's the book?"

"That's just it. That's what I wanted to tell you. The book — it's the diary of Falkirk de Roche. It's not a treasure map at all."

"Where is it?"

"Right now? Best guess?" He pointed at the bay. "It's inside Drumindor."

"What?" Her whole face scrunched up into a ball of befuddlement. Not her best look, but he didn't think Millie was capable of ugly.

"But like I said, it doesn't matter because the diary wasn't a map, and it wasn't treasure the church searched for in Neith — just a different book."

She continued to stare as if working out a translation. "So, I don't get it. Why are you here, then? Why did you hang the white flag?"

"Because I wanted to make sure you knew to get out. I didn't want you sticking around and thinking the book was still a possibility. Everyone seems to be aware of what's going to happen, but I don't know your particular situation. Perhaps Andre and Alessandro don't tell you everything. Maybe they keep you isolated."

"What? So, you think I'm an idiot or something?"

"No! Of course not."

She folded her arms and glared.

"Look, I just wanted to tell you that . . . well, if you don't have a way to get out, I could arrange to get you on the Ellis Far tomorrow."

"The Ellis Far?" Her eyes threatened to fall out of her head. "Are you serious?"

He nodded. "We have a stateroom, and I think maybe —"

"That's the ship I took to come here. You know that, right? That's the ship Millie Mulch stowed away on. Millificent LeDeye will not be getting on the Ellis Far! She will not be going back!"

"Fine, but you can't stay here. This whole city is going to explode, catch fire, sink, or whatever happens when a volcano blows its top."

"You don't know that," she scoffed, her arms still folded, elbows high.

Hadrian waved at the empty street. "And all of these people agree with you."

Millie frowned.

"Everyone is either gone or leaving," Hadrian said.

"Yes, I know. Fools are easily frightened."

Hadrian had known many willful women. Usually, it was a trait he admired, but there was a difference between stubborn and oblivious. "Millie, Cornelius DeLur has loaded his ship with everything he wasn't willing to send out by wagon. His entire household is preparing to leave. Do you think he's a fool, too?"

"My name is Millificent, and everything DeLur is doing is just for show. He's likely behind this whole thing. For him, this could be a version of spring cleaning. He gets everyone out, then slinks through the city —"

"What are you talking about? Millie, you need to leave."

She locked her jaw, her body rigid, as she glared at him with ice-cold eyes.

"Sorry, Millificent."

She thawed a drop. "If it really is a problem, Andre will get me out."

"That's the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. You need to get away from them."

"Them?"

"Andre and Alessandro."

"Are you suggesting I should — oh, I see." She unfolded her arms and began swinging them at her sides as she walked in a small circle around him. "You don't just want me to leave, you want me to leave with you."

He showed a dumb grin. "Would that be so terrible?"

She pondered this. He could tell because of how her tongue played along the front of her teeth. Arcadius cleaned his glasses or stroked his beard; Royce stared at nothing; Albert blinked several times while smiling, and Millie Mulch stroked her front teeth with the tip of her tongue as if pondering whether or not she ought to bite.

"Look, all I'm asking is that you get on the Ellis Far with me. We don't have to go back to Melengar. We can go to Aquesta. They have a new king there now; it could be exciting. We could also go to Mehan. Maranon is very pretty — extremely green. If things don't work out between us, I'll at least see that you're taken care of — that you're safe."

"So noble of you." Her face pretended seriousness. "Are you certain you aren't a knight?"

"Definitely not a knight."

Millie looked back at the doors to the Parrot. "I couldn't even if I wanted to. Andre's in there. Alessandro is with him. They think I'm visiting the elephant. In a few more minutes, they'll begin searching. And they won't like finding us together."

"Fine, come with me now. I'll see you have a safe place to spend the night, and in the morning, we can leave."

"All my things are at The Cave."

"Is there anything you really need?"

"Well . . . I have thirty gold I'm awfully fond of."

"Thirty!"

She straightened her back and folded her arms once more. "Yes, thirty. I've worked very hard and saved every copper. And I'm not leaving it all behind."

"Okay, but you say they're both in the Parrot at this moment, right?"

She nodded.

"Fine, so we can just go to The Cave right now and get it. And then you can spend the night with me, and tomorrow we'll board the Ellis Far and start a new life."

She thought about this. As she did, her eyes continued to creep fearfully toward the door.

What did they do to her?

"And if they catch us? You're unarmed, and Alessandro is especially good with a blade."

"Best not to let them catch us, then."

Gwen couldn't take her eyes off  Tim.

He's alive! And Edie is safe!

When she had heard nothing for so long after helping him, Gwen had suffered doubts. So many things could have gone wrong; so many things should have. She had changed the direction of fate; otherwise, Tim would have been dead for two weeks, and at that moment, Edie would likely be learning her literal worth at some seedy auction house. But no, they were here. And like a child who had broken a plate, Gwen worried about the consequences. Would she even know what they were? Obviously, she knew Tim and Edie were having dinner with them at the Parrot. That was something that wouldn't have happened. But could it affect anything important? Gwen was also forced to suffer through Tim's telling of her heroics. How she faced down the "evil casino guard," then risked her own money at the tables, telling him what to bet on and when to pull his money.

She expected questions or concerned looks. Gwen had never hidden her gifts, but no one took them seriously. That was the way in the west. In the east, future-telling was as common and accepted as being a seller of rugs or sandals. And just like any weaver or leather worker, those who were talented were respected.

In the west, things were different. Illia always warned Gwen to watch out for people — especially the ones who don't believe. "They take a seat, thrust out their palms, and laugh with their friends, as if it is some grand joke," her mother had told her. "Then you tell them what you see, and they stop laughing. Some recoil and call you a witch. Others . . . well, some become violent, especially if it's bad news." Gwen watched Albert, Arcadius, and most especially Royce to see their reactions.

All three listened carefully to a mostly factual report. Albert continued to smile. Arcadius nodded and played with his napkin, and Royce . . . showed no reaction at all.

Tim said, "When we had made a bit more than what was necessary, Gwen told me to stop, gather my winnings, and leave. And that's exactly what I did."

"Did you get your coins back?" Royce asked Gwen.

She nodded. "Tim insisted."

"Good."

"I have to admit," Albert said, "that is the only gambling recount I've heard where anyone walked away a winner."

Gwen was at a loss. She had expected more. No one had called her a witch, or kicked over their chair and stormed out, or suggested that she help them take over the world.

They just think it was luck.

She took it as a win, but two wins in a row made her nervous.

Gwen thought of ripples in a still lake after tossing a stone. A single splash was followed by ring after ring of spreading waves. By asking Tim and Edie to sit with them, two chairs were pulled over — chairs that someone else could have sat in. The couple ate food that wouldn't have been eaten before, at least not by them. And where did they stay? Who did they speak to? How many other things could these two have done that wouldn't have been done before? Does any of that matter? Not knowing how fate was supposed to turn out, Gwen had no idea. There was only one thing that . . .

Gwen stopped breathing as the thought coalesced in her mind.

What if I changed that? She looked at Royce's hands that lay flat on the table. What if I look at his palms again and see something different now?

Then another awful thought struck her.

What if the awful thing has already happened?

More than anything, it was the timing that chilled Gwen to the bone. Could it really be merely coincidence that instead of finding Tim's body, they found Drumindor locked? What if  Tur Del Fur will be destroyed because I saved Tim?

The first course arrived, but seeing Atyn smiling at her, Gwen had lost her appetite.

What have I done?

Feeling a wave of fear and guilt, Gwen sat back, biting her lip, and it was then she noticed that Rehn was missing.

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