Julian caught her and hugged her fiercely, his bitten-nailed hands digging into her shoulders. He gripped her so tightly she could barely breathe.

Then he let go. He did it as if he was forcing himself, as if he were starving and he was putting aside the last piece of food he had. But he did it.

“We’d better go,” he said.

Back in her bedroom, Emma showered and changed as quickly as she could. She slid on jeans and couldn’t help a wince as her T-shirt came down over her head, scraping against the bandages on her back. She was going to need new ones soon, and probably another iratze.

She headed out, only to discover that the hallway was already occupied.

“Emma,” Mark said, unhitching himself from the wall. His voice sounded tired. “Julian said you were all right. I—I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Mark,” she said.

“It is,” he said. “I trusted Kieran.”

“You trusted him because you loved him.”

He glanced at her, surprised. He looked off-kilter, and not just because of his eyes: It was as if someone had reached inside him and shaken the roots of his beliefs. She could still hear him screaming as Iarlath whipped first Julian and then her. “It was that clear?”

“You looked at him like—” Like I look at Julian. “Like you look at someone you love,” she said. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize it before. I thought you . . .” Liked Cristina, maybe? Kieran sure seemed jealous of her. “Liked girls,” she finished. “Teach me to make assumptions.”

“I do,” he said quizzically. “Like girls.”

“Oh,” she said. “You’re bisexual?”

“Last time I checked, that’s what you call it,” he said with a brief look of amusement. “There are no real words for these things in Faerie, so . . .”

She winced. “Double sorry on the assumptions.”

“It’s all right,” he said. “You are correct about Kieran. He was all I had for a long time.”

“If it makes any difference, he does love you,” said Emma. “I could see it on his face. I don’t think he expected any of us to be hurt. I think he thought they’d bring you back to Faerie, where you could be with him. He would never have thought—”

But at that, at the memory of the whip coming down not just on her back but on Julian’s, her throat closed.

“Emma,” Mark said. “The day that I was taken by the Hunt—the last thing I said to Julian was that he should stay with you. I thought of you, even when I was gone, as this delicate girl, this little thing with blond braids. I knew if anything happened to you, even then, Julian would be heartbroken.”

Emma felt her own heart skip a beat, but if Mark meant anything out of the ordinary by “heartbroken,” it wasn’t evident.

“Today, you protected him,” Mark said. “You took the whipping that was meant for him. It was not easy to watch what they did to you. I wish it had been me. I wish it a thousand times. But I know why my brother wanted to protect me. And I am grateful to you for protecting him in turn.”

Emma breathed past the tightness in her throat. “I had to do it.”

“I will always owe you,” Mark said, and his voice was the voice of a prince of Faerie, whose promises were more than promises. “Anything you want, I will give it to you.”

“That’s quite a promise. You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he said with finality.

After a moment Emma nodded, and the strangeness was broken. Mark the faerie lapsed back into being Mark Blackthorn, filling her in on the progress of the investigation as they headed down to join the others. In order to keep Uncle Arthur from finding out about what had happened with Emma and the faerie convoy, Julian had arranged for Arthur to attend a meeting with Anselm Nightshade at the pizza place on Cross Creek Road. Nightshade had sent a car for Arthur earlier, promising they both would return when night fell.

The rest of the family had been in the library. They had torn through piles of books in search of information about Lady Midnight.

“Did they learn anything?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. I was just on my way to the library when Mr. Hot and Sexy showed up and said he had information.”

“Whoa.” Emma held up her hand. “Mr. Hot and Sexy?”

“Perfect Diego,” Mark grumbled.

“Okay, look, I know you haven’t been back from Faerie all that long, but here in the human world, Mr. Hot and Sexy is not an effective insult.”

Mark didn’t get a chance to reply; they had reached the library. The moment they went inside, Emma was nearly knocked off her feet by a rushing figure with a determined hug—it was Livvy, who promptly burst into tears.

“Ouuuch,” Emma said, glancing around. The whole room was covered in stacks of paper, piles of books. “Liv, mind the bandages.”

“I can’t believe you let those faeries whip you, oh, I hate them, I hate the Courts, I’ll kill all of them—”

“‘Let’ is maybe not the word,” Emma said. “Anyway, I’m all right. It was fine. It didn’t even hurt that much.”

“Ooh, you liar!” said Cristina, emerging from behind a stack of books with Diego beside her. Interesting, Emma thought. “It was very heroic, what you did, but also very stupid.”