Page 28 of The City of Stardust

Wolves who know Marianne Everly.

Her hands grip the skirt of her dress tightly, crushing the fabric.

A figure slips out from the back doors to join her, and she tenses before realising who it is. It seems impossible that Aleksander should exist out of his weekly appearances at the café, that they should be meeting like this. Out of everyone tonight, even her uncles, only he looks the same as he always does, even if he’s swapped out his casual clothes for a slightly ill-fitting suit and smart shoes.

“I thought I’d never find you,” he says, then he glances at her face and his smile fades. “What’s wrong?”

She opens her mouth to tell him everything—and stops. He’s Penelope’s assistant. Even if she’s still furious with her uncles, a faint alarm bell sounds in her head.

“Did you know?” she says.

He stares at her. “Know what?”

“About Penelope, my uncles—all of it. Did youknow?”

But he looks at her blankly. “I have no idea what you mean. Violet, what happened?”

Her shoulders slump. Of course he doesn’t know. She can’t decide if it’s a relief or a disappointment.

“Take me to Fidelis,” she says suddenly, taking his hand.

He blinks. “What?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it,” she says. “Because I have, every single day you’ve walked into the café.”

“I—I can’t.” Gently, he pulls his hand away from hers. “I would love to, but…”

“Then why all of this?”

He blinks. “What do you mean?”

“Why visit the café? Why tell me what Fidelis looks like, how the keys work?”

Why tell her everything and then keep the door shut?

Ambrose, Gabriel, and now Aleksander. Everywhere she turns, no one will give her answers.

Something flashes across Aleksander’s face, too quick for her to identify it. Then he spreads his hands out. She notes several tiny scars across his knuckles, silvery puncture wounds like constellations.

“You asked,” he says simply. “Violet, you asked me and I told you. If I could take you across, I would.” He laughs to himself, without humour. “But only scholars get to make that call.”

“And aren’t you a scholar?” she demands. “What about you is so different to the other people at this party, right now?”

She knows she’s pushing him. All the times she’s ever heard him talk with such reverence about wanting to be a scholar. The way he’s looking at her now, as though she is slowly twisting a knife through him. But she doesn’t care. There’s no one left to ask.

Tears burn at the back of her throat. “Marianne isgone. If it was Penelope missing, if it was your whole world, wouldn’t you do anything to get her back?”

For a moment, Aleksander is silent, and she worries she’s gone too far.

“What do you mean, Marianne is missing?” he says quietly.

Violet shrugs miserably. “Exactly that. No one will tell me, but… I think she’s in Fidelis. So that’s where I need to go.”

Ambrose and Gabriel have spent nearly a decade looking for her. And Violet thinks of all the clues she left behind: the book of fairy tales, the reveurite bracelets. Where else would she be?

Aleksander touches the side of her face, the warmth startling in the cold night. She finds his other hand, and laces her fingers through it.

“And you would do anything to find her?” he asks.

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