Nero! No! Hand that over right now! While I yell, I’m wadin to river’s edge, scramblin onto the bank an runnin towards him. C’mere, you bad crow!

He flies towards camp. He teases me, taunts me. To me, then away. To me, then away. Drops it, catches it, drop, catch. Almost lettin me git my hands on it, then snatchin it at the last moment. Almost makin my heart stop when he perches on the vent pipe of a privy shack an dangles the heartstone down it. The privy door’s sealed. Chalked with a big white X. That means it’s full.

Don’t you dare! I shout.

I leap. Grab onto the pipe. Make a grab at him. The pipe bends. I tumble to the ground an he takes off agin. I go after him at a run. That stone’s gonna lead me to Jack. I cain’t leave without it.

The social’s goin on in the big open space where we first saw Auriel. The junkband’s up on the platform, playin like the Devil’s whippin ’em on. Sawin at the stringboxes, wheezin the squeezebox, squealin the shrillie an whalin on the drums. Sweat flies offa their red faces.

Lilith sings. She belts it out in a big, brassy voice, swishin her skirts an flashin her eyes. Meg’s perched barefoot on the platform edge, flirtin with some fella. Somebody oughta warn him to stand back a bit. She’s packed her topside fundamentals so tight into her low-cut dress that it’s only a matter of time before she bursts her banks.

Everybody’s dancin. They skip hand to hand, in circles. Twirl each other around by the waist. They shriek with laughter. Call to each other. Man, woman an child. Gone the world-worn faces of the day. The music’s runnin in their blood. It shouts out life an livin. It shouts down death an kicks it in the pants.

Nero dives right into the middle. So do I. I duck unner flyin arms, slip between people, chasin him, yellin at him all the time.

Nero! C’mere right now!

Somebody grabs my hand. It’s Tommo. Hey, Tommo, I says. Would you—

His arm’s about my waist, he’s swingin me around. Around an around, his dark eyes hot on me, holdin my gaze. I frown, rememberin what Auriel said.

The deaf boy. Take heed, Saba. He’s in love with you.

Then I’m dancin with a stranger, a man. I break away. Nero! I call. I see Emmi. An Lugh. He’s flushed. His eyes glitter. So wild an rattly as he dances that he almost looks feverish.

Suddenly, the music quickens. The circles break up. It’s a free fer all. Somebody grabs my hand an sends me spinnin. I trip an stumble, bouncin from body to body, till I’m thrown right outta the heavin crowd.

Nero’s flown onto the roof that shelters the platform. He caw caws his triumph at me. There ain’t no way I can reach him there.

Dammit! I yell.

Bird trouble? It’s Maev. Her an Auriel stand a few foot off, watchin the dancers. Maev looks pale an tired, but she’s cleaned herself up. Her fresh-washed hair twists an glints its way down her back. It almost looks like a livin thing.

I’m still drippin wet from the river. Sorely vexed from chasin Nero. I glare at him, there on the roof, as I says to her, You said if I ever got tired of him, you’d take him offa my hands. Help yerself.

She pretends surprise. Did I? she says. I don’t think so. I ain’t really a bird kinda person anyways.

Lugh appears. He stands in front of Maev. The torchlight kisses his lips, smooths his skin, brushes his hair with gold. I’m so used to him, I sometimes fergit his beauty. Tonight it’s a glittery, jittery, fevery beauty.

That look. I used to see it in Hopetown all the time.

You bin takin chaal, I says.

What? Don’t be stupid. He laughs, gives a little shake of his head as he says, You cain’t stand to see me havin even a bit of fun, can you? He holds out his hand to Maev. Dump these two misery guts, he says. Let’s you an me dance. He takes her hand. C’mon, Maev, he says with a smile. Dance with me.

She breathes a soft sigh. I see it. I . . . I cain’t, she says. Sorry.

His smile fades. His mouth hardens. He drops her hand, turns on his heel an walks off. His back’s stiff with hurt.

Maev watches him go. I ain’t got no right to dance, she says.

I ain’t never seen him like that, I says. I’d swear he’s on chaal, but – I turn to Auriel. I thought you said the camp’s clean.

I did, she says, it is, I mean, I thought it was, but I guess I better—

There you are! It’s Emmi. Shiny-eyed, jiggin from foot to foot, her cheeks pink with excitement. You slept the day away. Lugh wouldn’t let none of us wake you. Hey Saba, ain’t this fun?

No, it damn well ain’t, I says. Jest then, Nero screams at me. An that damn bird’s a thief. He took my heartstone an won’t give it back.

Emmi points at him, laughin. Oh, look at him, way up there! He’s a bad boy, all right. As she goes skippin back to join the dance, she calls over her shoulder, I told you he’s a lost cause!

Her last words echo in my head. He’s a lost cause. A lost cause.

Maev says somethin to me. I say somethin back, I dunno what.

You’ve lost an yer the cause of it. So full of pride. You should of seen us comin by the moon, had more’n three on watch. There warn’t no moon the night the Tonton came to Darktrees, Maev said. They came in the middle of the night. We had three on watch but it was so dark . . . there warn’t no moon.

Emmi was right. That don’t sound like somethin Jack ’ud say. He don’t talk like that.

The world goes silent. Shuts down. The music, the laughter, the voices. All but one voice. His voice. Jack.

Meet me at the Lost Cause, Saba. Be there at the next full moon. It’s the rule of three.

He did send me a message. Surrounded by Tonton, with only seconds to spare, he sent me a message that wouldn’t git Maev in trouble. Or him.

Jack’s rule of three. He told me about it in Hopetown, while the place burned around us.

Him an me runnin. Swervin an leapin as bits of burnin buildin crash to the ground.

Ever heard of the rule of three? he shouts.

No! I says.

If you save somebody’s life three times, their life belongs to you. You saved my life today, that makes once. Save it twice more an I’m all yers.

I’ll jest hafta make sure that don’t happen, I says.

He stops. Grabs my hands. It’ll happen if it’s meant to happen, he says. It’s all written in the stars. It’s all fate.

He pretends the rule of three’s a game. A joke. But it ain’t. Not to him anyways. It’s how he binds hisself to people he cares about. How he binds them to him.

The Hopetown fire, when I sprung Jack from his lock-up in the Cooler . . . that was the first time I saved his life. The second time, it was the hellwurm. Once more ’ud make it three. Then his life belongs to me.

An while I’m workin all this out, while my brain’s chewin it over, my eyes go on watchin what’s happenin.

The band plays. The dancers dance. Meg still sits on the platform edge. Lugh’s at her feet. He stares up at her. His hands circle her ankles, smooth her bare legs with restless intent. She jumps down. She takes him by the hand. She leads him off into the night.

Maev’s seen it too. Her back’s stiff, her arms hugged tight to her body. A hot tide creeps up her neck. She stands there a moment. Then, holdin her head high, she turns an leaves.

The rule of three. Save his life once more an it’s mine. Save his—