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One kiosk was arrayed with books, but only a few of them were made from paper. There were volumes bound in stained glass, polished steel, jet, and bone. One book, separated from the others, was just a formless outline made of smoke. Seeing it made me remember the smoke volume from Or-deño’s apartment. I pointed to it.

“What’s that? Ordeño had one.”

Lucian followed my gaze. “A Polybius Book.”

“I thought you said nothing lasts long outside the city.”

“If you kept it in a special container, it might be able to survive a bit longer. Maybe he took it back and forth with him.”

“It was on a stand when we found it. Almost like a work of art.”

“They have to be kept away from most other books. Artifacts that powerful don’t tend to get along well with their social inferiors.”

“What kind of power are we talking about exactly?”

“Gravitation. Entropic tampering. Curses one-oh-one.”

“Like cursing for laymen?”

“No. Curses that last for one hundred and one years.”

“Wow.” I stared at the book in fascination. I couldn’t see any images within the smoke. It was all just black and gray vapor. “How do you read it?”

“Very carefully.”

“Can you do it?”

He made a face, almost like a grimace. “To an extent. I’m not nearly as competent in that language as Ordeño was.”

“Smoke language?”

“Polybius, yes. The oldest form of long-distance communication in the world.”

“Like a Dark Ages tweet.”

He frowned. “Do you have to make fun of everything?”

“Have we met?” When he continued to look annoyed, I sighed. “No. I don’t have to make fun of everything. It’s really just whistling in the dark. It keeps me from being scared out of my mind most days.”

“I can relate to that.”

“Do you think Ordeño would have gotten his book here?”

He shook his head. “They shouldn’t really be sold. This one could be a fake. It doesn’t seem that way, though.”

“Let’s ask.”

We approached the table, which was partially obscured by a red velvet curtain. When I was about a foot away from the Polybius Book, the curtain was yanked open, and a creature emerged.

It resembled a cross between an insect and a worm. It was about four feet long, and its thin legs moved rapidly as it slithered forward. Its body was divided into ten segments, black and plated like a beetle, but also covered in fine white hairs that quivered. Its tail was bulbous and glowed a pale blue-green, making its body appear all the more spectral.

The giant glowworm swiveled its head toward me. Its antennae drifted in my direction, and its small black eyes regarded me. They were hooded by chitinous plates that resembled a helm, tinted rust red, like the rest of its body.

“Sshh crrcr h scr kk hss ’s?” it asked.

“She’s a Lampyrid,” Lucian whispered. “They keep the gardens in working order. Just speak to her in English. Neither of us have the soft palate necessary to duplicate colloquial Lampyr.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, trying unsuccessfully to meet her eyes. They kept moving in their sockets, like black ball bearings. “I only speak English.”

“Sss’s hh. Is fine, is fine.” She gestured to the book with her antennae. “Polybius Book. You’re looking, sssh?”

I assumed that her “sssh?” had to be something like hmm? But I wasn’t entirely sure. I tried to keep my tone neutral.

“Do you sell a lot of these?”

She made a strange sound, halfway between a hiss and rattling that emerged deep within her cara-pace. Her tail flickered blue, then green, then blue again. Maybe this was how a Lampyrid laughed.

“No. No. Not many. Got this one from the Hamakei.”

I gave Lucian a blank look.

“They’re avian demons,” he said. “Kind of like vultures.”

“Like the Seneschal.”

His eyes widened. “You’ve visited him?”

I wasn’t sure what to make of his surprise. Did he suspect that the Seneschal had mentioned him?

Or was he just impressed that I’d known where to find him?

“Sure. We had a chat.”

The Lampyrid made a slight movement of its head in Lucian’s direction. “Buenas tardes, hechicero.

¡Suerte a Cámara de Llilácea!”

The glowworm had a much better accent than I did.

“Igualmente,” Lucian replied, also inclining his head. “¡Suerte a Madriguera de los Luciérnagas!”

“My shhshr’r’ii’p worked in the arboretum of Lilium,” she continued. “Always good things to say.

Fine family. Fine.”

Maybe a shhshr’r’ii’p was like a maternal grandmother. I tried to imagine what her tasks might be within the garden. Perhaps the Lampyridae were the ones who provided most of the lighting with their tails.

“We were lucky to have her,” Lucian said. “May I ask your surname?”

“Of course. It’s Rr’ssshhs’srl: sshl’k h ullssh. But I’d be delighted if you called me by my familiar name, which is hnnnh’S.”

To his credit, Lucian didn’t miss a beat. “Thank you, hnnnh’S. You say that the Hamakei sold you this Polybius Book?”

“Yes. Yes. Two nights ago.”

I tried to imagine precisely what unit of measurement the glowworm was using. If it was always night, then how did you ever know which night you were in? And how did you discern the “middle”

of the night?

“Did the Hamakei say where he got it?” hnnnh’S made a clicking noise. “Said it came from a Dark Parliament fellow. Stolen, most likely. Don’t know how he would have done it, though. Like steal-ing air and darkness. Hard to hold.”

“You seem to be holding it,” I observed. “It’s part of your display.”

“Of course. Came with a reliquary of holding. Very safe.”

I looked at the book again. As my eyes adjusted to the shifting vapors, I saw that they seemed to be contained within an invisible square. The smoke teased the edges of the square, but ventured no farther.

“Reliquary comes with book,” she added. “No cost.”

“How much did the Hamakei sell it for?” Lucian asked.

“Crate full of moon-grubs. Seemed to want to get rid of it.”

I looked at Lucian. “With the reliquary thing, would the book survive long enough to reach the lab for some tests?” hnnnh’S reared her head back, as if startled. “Taking it offworld? Where?”

“Vancouver,” I replied.

“Where’s that?”

“Earth,” Lucian clarified.

She shook her head vigorously. “Not a good idea. Polybius Book is fragile, fragile. Even with the reliquary, transit will be too hard.”

I turned to Lucian. “How did Ordeño do it, then? He had the same vessel. At least it looked the same.”

“I’m not sure. I’m no expert in transporting goods out of Trinovantum.”

“Ask the Hamakei,” hnnnh’S said. “He’s shr’L’ehhs. Very handy.”

Lucian frowned. “I’m not familiar with that word in Lampyr.”

“Don’t know in English. Is like—” Her head wove back and forth slowly for a few seconds as she pondered the translation. “¿El contrabandista?”

“¡Sí, claro! A smuggler.”

“If you find the proper container, I can sell it. Otherwise”—her antennae made a shruglike gesture

—“no sale. Too precious.”

“Can we take it out of the reliquary first?” Lucian asked. “Just for a second?”

hnnnh’S considered this, her head swaying. Finally she nodded. She half crawled, half slithered over to the book, her small legs moving surprisingly fast across the ground. She brushed the air next to the book with her antennae, and I felt a brief shiver of power as the mystical enclosure that was holding it vanished. Instantly, the

“pages” began to swirl and smoke with greater zeal.

“Careful. Has a temper.”

I was pretty sure I didn’t want to know exactly what that meant, or what an angry Polybius Book was capable of.

Lucian examined the book, frowning slightly. His fingers hovered near the edges of the smoke, but he didn’t touch it. Finally, he reached into his jacket and withdrew a black silk pouch, tied with a drawstring. He untied the pouch and removed a small, slender pipe made of bone. It was carved into the shape of a calla lily.

“Is now really an appropriate time for that?” I asked.

“Just watch. Not all books are read the same way.” He turned to hnnnh’S. “Could I trouble you for a pinch of tabaco de pipa? I seem to be out.”

“Of course.” She reached into some unfathomable space behind the counter with one of her small legs. Or was it an arm? The appendage reappeared a second later holding a twist of paper, like a chemist’s bag. The tobacco inside was even more fragrant than the night-blooming plants from the garden.

Lucian sprinkled a pinch of brown herb into the pipe. Then he lit it with a small Zippo, which had also come from the pouch. Did he carry this around all the time? I suppose you never knew when you were going to encounter a Polybius Book. Or maybe he just enjoyed a relaxing after-lunch smoke. I was reminded once again of how little I knew about him.

As soon as the pipe was lit, the smoke of the Polybius Book began to tremble and swirl. Lucian inhaled, and the tobacco flared orange. He inhaled again, more strongly this time, and a tendril of smoke from the book was sucked into the pipe. It mingled with the tobacco smoke, and the orange glow suddenly turned green.

He blew out a long peal of green smoke, sighing as he did so. The smoke rippled in the air for a moment, and then, to my amazement, flickering characters began to appear within its depths. They looked like serpentine tails and mysterious paint strokes to me, but Lucian could obviously read them. He scanned the characters closely, which had already begun to fade. He had the same expression that I got on my face while reading an arcane credit card statement.

He smiled suddenly, pointing to a small character hovering near the tail end of the green smoke. It actually looked like two serpentine letters that had been drawn on top of each other, wriggling slightly in the air.

“Ordeño’s signature,” he said. “LO. This book belonged to him. But it’s impossible to read because half the pages are missing.”

My eyes widened. “He must have separated the books. We have one half in the lab, and this is the other half.”

Lucian snuffed out the pipe and replaced it. The Polybius Book returned to its normal “shape.” The glowing characters were now nothing but smoke again.

“It won’t last long, even under your lab’s conditions,” he said. “We have to combine the two books, before the first one fades out altogether.” He turned to hnnnh’S, who didn’t seem unnerved by anything that had just happened. “Can you hold this behind the counter while we talk to the Hamakei?

We’re very interested.”

“Of course. Of course.” Her antennae waved in accordance. “He has a stall next to the Night Hob.

Close by.”

“Thank you, hnnnh’S. ¡Mucho gusto! ”

“¡Igualmente!” If a glowworm could be said to smile, then she did.

We made our way through the crowd. Mostly, I just followed Lucian, since I had no idea what a Night Hob was or where I should be looking for one. We passed a stall that seemed to be selling nothing but small stones stacked in pyramids. Each pyramid was composed of about twenty multicolored pebbles.

“Are those paperweights?” I asked.

Lucian glanced at the table. “Personalized cairns. If you’re willing to pay, you can make them project an image of someone who’s died. You put it on their grave so that you can look at the picture.”

“I thought the souls of necromancers went into those giant trees.”

“Not everyone who lives in Trinovantum is a necromancer. And not all souls get the same treatment. There are catacombs underneath the city full of unmarked bones.”

“Like Paris. Neat.”

We passed another kiosk from which a variety of amazing smells issued. A goblin was pouring steaming batter into fantastic steel molds: tropical fish, wolves, great horned owls, and even castle battlements. A giant bat was yelling at the goblin while he cooked. The bat hung upside down from a gilded wooden perch, its leathery wings crossed over each other. The louder it screeched, the more it swung, back and forth, like a perpetualshrieking machine. The goblin tried to cook faster.

“Can we get an owl pancake?”

“No. You’re not allowed to eat anything.”

“But they smell incredible.”

“Everything does. But it’s not worth the price.”

“I think I should be able to decide that for myself,” I muttered, keeping my eyes on the stacks of sa-vory fish and wolves.

“Just follow me.”

“Is everyone only allowed to wear two colors in this city?”

“Black fruit tends to produce naturally black dyes. So black clothes are in fashion. But you saw the tapestries—

there are other colors as well.”

“And what about the people wearing gray?”

“Subcastes. They’re mostly domestic servants.”

“Wow. It’s like an undead version of Monaco.”

“Class lines run deeply in Trinovantum.”

“What class are you?”

He smiled slightly. “Lilium has old and powerful roots.”

“So you’re bourgeoisie.”

“We’re stable. We used to have more resources, but for the last few decades, the Vespertine family has been on the ascendancy. They’re the center of power. At least for the present moment.”

We eventually reached two kiosks that had been set up close to a stone wall. The first table was presided over by a slightly stooped vulture wearing glasses. I had no idea how the glasses managed to stay on his beak, but somehow they remained in place. He was selling a variety of instruments—

fountain pens, bone knives, magnifying glasses, crystals, and plants with star-shaped black berries.

The vendor next to him was small enough that he could actually stand on the table rather than behind it. He measured about two feet tall, and was completely covered in velvety black fur. I couldn’t even see his mouth. Only his eyes were visible, and they were a luminescent green. They reminded me of the Lampyrid’s tail.

Lucian approached the Hamakei, who was whistling softly as he (or she) dusted and rearranged the sundry items on the table. “I was speaking with a Lampyrid vendor, and she said that you sold her a Polybius Book. Can you tell me where you found it?”

The Hamakei frowned at Lucian—if a bird could be said to frown. “Why is it any business of yours?”