It—he—smiled at me, a quick flash of teeth. Those were not human, either; he had no canines. Just perfectly flat squares, straight across on top and bottom.

“Didn’t mean to,” he said. “Didn’t think you’d see me. Most don’t.” He leaned close, squinting at my face. “Huh. So you’re that girl. The one with the eyes.”

I nodded, accepting that bizarre designation. Godlings gossipped like fishermen; enough of them had encountered me that word must’ve spread. “And you are?”

“Dump.”

“Pardon?”

“Dump. That’s a neat trick you did.” He jerked his chin toward Shiny. “Always wanted to pop a hole or two in him myself! What’re you doing with him?”

“It’s a long story.” I sighed, suddenly weary. If only I dared rest. Maybe…“Um. Lord D-Dump.” I felt very foolish saying that. “I’m in a lot of trouble here. Please, will you help me?”

Dump cocked his head, like a puzzled dog. Despite this, the look in his eyes was quite shrewd. “You? Depends. Him? No way.”

I nodded slowly. Mortals constantly asked godlings for favors; a lot of godlings were prickly about it. And this one didn’t like Shiny. I would have to tread carefully, or he might leave before I could explain about his missing siblings. “First, can you tell if anyone else is around? I heard something before.”

“That was me. Coming to see what had dropped into my place. Lots of people get tossed out and end up here, but never from so high up.” He gave me a wry look. “Thought you’d be messier.”

“Your place?” A junkyard was not my idea of a home, but godlings had no need of the material comforts we mortals liked. “Oh. Sorry.”

Dump shrugged. “Not like you could help it. Won’t be mine much longer, anyway.” He gestured upward, and I remembered the blackened sun. The Nightlord’s warning.

“You’re going to leave?” I asked.

“Got no choice, do I? Not stupid enough to stick around when Naha’s this pissed. Just glad he hasn’t cursed us, too.” He sighed, looking unhappy. “All the mortals, though… They’re marked—everybody who was in the city at the time Role and the others died. Even if they leave, they still see the black sun. I tried to send some of my kids down south to one of the coast towns, and they just came back. Said they wanted to be with me when…” He shook his head. “Kill ’em all, guilty and innocent alike. He and Itempas never were all that damn different.”

I lowered my head and sighed, weary in more than body. Had it even done any good, escaping the Lights? Would it make any difference if I found a way to expose them? Would the Nightlord destroy the city anyway, for sheer spite?

Dump shifted from foot to foot, abruptly looking uncomfortable. “Can’t help you, though.”

“What?”

“Someone wants you. Him, too. Can’t help either of you.”

All at once I understood. “You’re the Lord of Discards,” I said. I could not help smiling. I’d grown up on tales of him, though I’d never known his true name. They’d been favorites of my childhood. He was another trickster figure, humorous, appearing prominently in stories of runaway children and lost treasures. Once something was thrown away, unwanted, or forgotten, it belonged to him.

He grinned back at me with those unnervingly flat teeth. “Yeah.” Then his smile faded. “But you ain’t thrown away. Someone wants you bad.” He took a step back as if my very presence pained him, grimacing in distaste. “You’re gonna have to go. I’ll send you somewhere, if you can’t walk—”

“I know about the missing godlings,” I blurted. “I know who’s been killing them.”

Dump stiffened all at once, his massive fists clenching. “Who?”

“A cult of crazy mortals. Up there.” I pointed back toward the Tree. “There’s one of them, a scrivener who…” I hesitated, suddenly aware of the danger of naming Dateh a demon. If the gods knew there were still demons in the world…

No. I no longer cared what happened to me. Let them kill me, as long as they dealt with Madding’s killers, too.

But before I could say the words, Dump suddenly caught his breath and whirled away from me, his image flaring brighter as he summoned his magic. There was a scream in the distance, and then I heard small feet come pelting around a pile of rubbish, scrabbling once as they trotted along what sounded like a loose board.