“I’m going to visit Grayriver today,” I told Mother over breakfast.

  Once again, Shale was nowhere to be found, presumably training. I felt an odd, uncomfortable mixture of threatened and proud.

  “What for?” Mother asked simply, as she fixed me with her sharp gaze.

  “I wish to inspect the train station, to inquire as to what the common people think. Moreover, I’ve been away some months and it would behoove me to take the pulse of the city, so to speak.”

  She clicked her tongue. “You should know that I have spoken with your father.”

  A shiver ran down my spine.

  One of Mother’s well-trimmed eyebrows rose slightly. “You know I only praised you. He wishes to apologize for demanding your hair be cut.” She set her teacup down with more force than was necessary.

  “Thank you,” I mumbled.

  “Slate?”

  “Yes, Mother?”

  She glanced pointedly at the attendants in the room. “Do not pursue what you found. Please, let the matter drop.”

  “Mother?”

  “Under order of your father, you are not to leave the estate until your return to the Sect.” Her look told me in a heartbeat that no compromise could be brokered.

  I tried anyway. “What of training?”

  “Under my escort.”

  “...I understand, Mother. I will pursue this no further, I promise.” The lie slipped out easily, and my face stayed sincere. I’d never been a liar before this, some small part of me worried, and was quickly silenced. This was necessary.

  She nodded, seemingly satisfied.

  When I returned to my chambers, as escorted by a maid, I used a pillow to muffle my scream. The order wasn’t just to stay put, it meant constant surveillance. The implicit understanding that I would be accompanied every time I left to wander the estate.

  Which meant no vault, which meant the next time I endured Mother’s training, this damn silk shell would fall to pieces. Glib tongue or not, trying to explain to her that the demonic spider woman in front of her was her son would only end in my death.

  Or worse.

  It wasn’t hard to imagine myself in place of my demonic ancestor, pinned to a wall in some forgotten cave. When I’d sunk so low that I began to wonder if he’d actually deserved such a fate, I finally pulled myself out of bed. After a moment’s hesitation, I stuffed the pillows under the blankets and pulled the curtains closed. I felt like I was six again.

  In all likelihood, I had until tomorrow morning to find a solution. And that wasn’t even considering my impending return to the Sect.

  And so I found myself preparing a thin line of silk around the sill, gazing out over the courtyard to look for any covert eyes amongst the evening’s fading light. Behind me, a warm bath had been drawn and summarily drained, its steam still lingering in the air.

  My bed chamber’s windows would be watched—I’d done this trick as a child with a bedsheet on more than one occasion. But this room? No, the window here, smoked glass and tiny, would not be seen as a concern.

  I hoped.

  Slate could not fit through this window. And while my size as Silk was nearly the same, I had a degree of flexibility I’d never imagined prior. Wearing an ash gray outfit spun of my own silk, I paused, hands on the ledge.

  This was it. This was the tipping point: a sort of disobedience that could see everything I worked for fall like sand through my fingers. I only hesitated a moment before I pulled myself up, tucked my shoulders in, and squeezed out the window, shutting it with a slippered foot.

  Headfirst, I descended into the densest part of our garden, silk strand dissipating behind me. Under normal circumstances, I could be expected to remain uninterrupted until morning. My gut churned at the thought that my plan relied on such a shaky foundation.

  Father and Mother had every reason to trust me. Shale would lie; Slate would never. A twinge of guilt bit into me, but I brushed it aside. All for survival, all for my goals.

  I reached the wall without issue, moving silently and swiftly. I was over it in the blink of an eye, darting toward the bushes just in time to see a flash of someone following me.

  They were too fast for someone mundane. When I jumped into a tree, they followed me, dressed in black from head to toe. One line of silk, then another, and they tripped up, tangling as they lifted into a writhing bundle halfway to the ground.

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  Hunger took over, my fangs slid out, and I was two strides from jumping on them when a familiar voice shouted “Silk!” and I froze.

  “Azalea?” I hissed around the four… six fangs in my very inhuman mouth.

  She smelled familiar, floral, and I grabbed my head with both hands. What was I about to do? My knees hit loamy soil, then my elbows. If she wasn’t… then I would have…

  “Here.”

  Something heavenly smelling rolled into the leaves under me, and it was in my mouth and down my throat before I could even register what it was. Clarity hit me and I spat leaves.

  Something thumped to the ground next to me. “Good thing I brought a knife. Let’s get you up.” Still clearly in shock, I let Azalea pull me upright and she patted me on the back.. “Didn’t think you had it in you to sneak out!”

  I finished spitting out the leaves, pulling at one pierced by a couple fangs. “Why are you here!?”

  Her brows furrowed, and I had a good feeling she was frowning under her face covering. “Good to see you too, Silk.”

  “You keep using that name.”

  “Would you rather I don’t right now?”

  I opened my mouth to say “of course,” but froze mid thought. No, it really did make sense that she used an alias, but I couldn’t—wouldn’t—admit it. “What was that you gave me?”

  “A little ball of sunshine!”

  “Azalea.” I glared at her.

  But she just shrugged. “Dunno. If you don’t want to thank me, I don’t think I need to tell you.”

  I looked down and dusted myself off. “I can agree to that.”

  “What? But—”

  “I need your help, however.”

  “Oh, so just be rude and then ask for my help!”

  “I…” I sighed. “Alright, fine. Thank you for giving me whatever that was.”

  “Bloodstone!” she chirped. “Specifically a bloodstone candy. I’ve got a bag of ‘em; it mixes really well with honey.”

  I choked.

  “Turns out there’s a huge underground trade of the stuff.” She put a finger up to her chin. “I’m shocked you don’t know. Heck, if I didn’t know better I’d assume from how it’s going on in the town here that you were in on it. Funny, huh?”

  “Azalea.”

  “Yep, that’s my name. You can say it as much as you want, but I can’t read minds, so you gotta tell me what you need.”

  “I need you to take me to whoever you bought that from.”

  “I told you I’ve got plenty.”

  She had the gall to seem surprised when I glared at her. Then she blinked and lowered her mask. “Sarcasm, see?” She pointed to her wan smile.

  “Right. Your supplier, then?”

  “He’s definitely not the type to talk to a noble, let alone the ducal heir.”

  “Do I look like the duke’s son right now?”

  “No, but you act like one.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I hissed, the offhand comment biting like a true insult.

  Azalea just rolled her eyes and pulled her mask back up. “You’ll need a reason, and I should do the talking.”

  “Because I sound like a noble.”

  “Yeah, and you don’t need to play up the accent.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “Even worse.” She turned and started walking toward town, then stopped. “Hey, what’d you need my help with anyway? You didn’t know about this whole bloodstone drug trade until a minute ago, and I doubt it’s your newfound addiction talking.”

  “I shouldn’t say.”

  One eyebrow rose.

  “But”—I sighed—“I’m going to. Father knows about the mine, Mother as well. From what I’ve gathered, it’s some sort of agreement the Shimmering Shadows Sect forced upon us, but I don’t know the details.”

  Azalea’s eyes lit up. “And you want to know the details.”

  “Precisely.”

  “How can I help, though? It’s not like I could just ask the Sect, and if your family hasn’t told you then they’re sure as shit not gonna tell me.”

  I took a deep breath and straightened my spine, and my voice still came out in a half whisper. “I want to break into Father’s study.” Truth was, I’d made the plan more or less on the spot.

  The pink-haired menace whistled. “Huh, I guess you really did change. And you know what I mean.”

  “I’m doing what is best for my people.”

  “By going against your father.”

  “By going against the people who have forced him into an agreement he would never have otherwise negotiated, and doing so in a way that does not tie to him nor that he would be able to do.”

  “Riiight.”

  “I am serious.”

  “Yeah, that’s the scary part. So, how do we get in?”

  “You’re interested, then?”

  She burst out laughing. “Interested? Yeah, yeah you could say that. I need to see where this goes.”

  “If we are caught, we would be put to death.”

  She waved it off. “Yeah, sure. I take it that means you’re going as Silk.”

  “Yes.”

  “Wouldn’t it be better to be Slate in case you got caught?”

  She was right, but I shook my head anyway. “There’s a good chance we’ll get seen, and I’m not supposed to be without an escort right now.”

  “I still have a hard time believing you’d do anything that would get you in trouble.”

  I bristled. “Yes, but perhaps you don’t know me as well as you think you do? When we were younger, Shale and I would sneak out consistently. And no, he was not just dragging me along. Most of our adventures were my idea.” I threw a thumb at myself.

  Azalea tilted her head and stared for an almost awkwardly long moment. “Huh.”

  “You ought to believe me.”

  “I do.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Well you should believe me that I believe you.” And now she was back to grinning ear to ear.

  I felt like my sincerity had been brushed aside and it stung, but there was no point pushing the issue. She wouldn’t listen, and we had very limited time.

  “Follow me and I’ll get us inside,” I said as I remade my silken guise, this time as Silk. The image in my mind was clear, effortless. Going to purely a human version of the demon was a simpler affair.