“Sit, sit. Tea?”
“Yes, please.”
“Sugar? There is no cream, I’m afraid. It gives me indigestion. In fact, guest, food gives me indigestion.”
He poured first for me, then for himself. I tipped half of the tiny vial into my cup, restraining myself from dumping it all in; I was suddenly greedy for sweetness. I raised it to my mouth, then hesitated.
“Do you think of poison?” Kellin continued to smile. “If that was my desire, I could have ordered it done below, in Maleen. Or rid myself of you in countless other ways.”
I’d thought of poison, it was true, but that wasn’t what had made me hesitate. The flowers rimming the cup weren’t roses after all. They were poppies, which made me remember Dora. I hoped with all my heart that Rades would find her way back to that kind-hearted woman. I knew the chances were slim, but you know what they say about hope: it’s the thing with feathers. It can fly even for those who are imprisoned. Maybe especially for them.
I raised my cup to Kellin. “Long days and pleasant nights.” I drank. It was sweet and good.
“What an interesting toast. I’ve never heard it before.”
“I learned it from my father.” This was true. I thought not much else I might say in this richly appointed room would be the truth, but that was. He’d read it in some book or other, but I didn’t intend to say that. Maybe the sort of person I was supposed to be couldn’t read.
“I can’t keep calling you guest. What is your name?”
“Charlie.”
I thought he’d ask for my last name, but he didn’t. “Charlie? Charlie.” He seemed to taste it. “I’ve never heard such a name.” He waited for me to explain my exotic name—which was common as dirt where I came from—and when I didn’t, he asked where I was from. “For your accent is strange to my ear.”
“Ullum,” I said.
“Ah! So far, then? So far as that?”
“If you say so.”
He frowned, and I realized two things. One was that he was actually as pale as ever. The color in his cheeks and on his lips was makeup. The other thing was that the person he reminded me of was Donald Sutherland, who I had watched grow magically older in any number of Turner Classic Movies, from M*A*S*H to The Hunger Games. And one other thing: the blue aura was still there, although faint. A thin, transparent swirl deep in each nostril; a barely visible tingle at the bottom arc of each eye.
“Is it polite to stare in Ullum, Charlie? Perhaps even a sign of respect? Tell me.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, and drank the rest of my tea. There was a little film of sugar left in the bottom of the cup. I had to restrain myself from sticking in one dirty finger and mopping it up. “This is all strange to me. You are strange.”
“Of course, of course. More tea? Help yourself, and don’t spare the sugar. I don’t use that either, and I can see you want more. I see a great deal. Some learn that to their sorrow.”
I didn’t know how long the pot had been on the table in advance of my arrival, but the tea was still hot and mildly steaming. More magic, maybe. I didn’t care. I was tired of magic. I just wanted to get my dog and go home. Except… there was the mermaid. That was wrong. And hateful. Hateful to murder beauty.
“Why did you leave Ullum, Charlie?”
There was a snare in that question. Thanks to Hamey, I thought I could avoid it. “Didn’t want to die.”
“Ah?”
“Ducked the poison.”
“Very wise of you, I’d say. What was foolish was coming here. Wouldn’t you say?”
“I almost got out,” I said, and thought of another of my dad’s sayings: Almost only counts in horseshoes. Every one of Kellin’s questions felt like another land mine I had to step around or be blown up.
“How many others ‘ducked the poison,’ as you say? And were they all whole ones?”
I shrugged. Kellin frowned and put down his cup （he’d barely touched his tea） with a bang. “Don’t be impertinent with me, Charlie. That would be unwise.”
“I don’t know how many.” It was the safest answer I could give, considering the only thing I knew about whole ones was that they didn’t turn gray, lose their voices, and presumably die when their innards melted and their breathing tubes closed up. Hell, I didn’t even know that for sure.
“My Lord Flight Killer grows impatient for thirty-two, he’s very wise but a bit of a child in that respect.” Kellin raised a finger. The nail was long and looked cruel. “The thing is, Charlie, he doesn’t yet know that I have thirty-one. That means I can make away with you if I desire. So be very careful and answer my questions truthfully.”