Little pink. There were only a few people who’d ever used that nickname for Magenta, and it was never used kindly. His name still didn’t surface and she wondered if it was because she’d stuffed all memory of him somewhere deep down and tried to forget.

When she didn’t produce his name, he twitched his head to indicate he was not impressed. ‘It’s Nikolai Azail.’

Azail? Magenta frowned. If he was a Nexed, he should have had a coloured name. Then it clicked, and click her fingers Magenta did as she realised: His name had been Azure. Nikolai Azure.

‘Oh, what a shame. I rather liked the name Azure.’

He rolled his eyes. Fitting, for him, though, to have taken a new name. Magenta had always been partial to the old adage: Better to earn a name than to claim one. There were only two reasons, aside from joining families, to change a name: To recognise a feat in one’s life, or to sound more noble. The nobility, after all, had a long-standing habit of picking fancy-sounding names, to differentiate their bloodlines and to set themselves apart from the common, those whose names were grounded in their work and labour. When a commoner acted a noble, it reeked of ego.

And, in Nikolai’s case, it spat in the face of the Nexed’s coloured tradition.

But Magenta half-wished she’d held her tongue. She still needed information, and so far Nikolai was the only one around to ask for it.

Nikolai shrugged off her remark easily enough. His affect said she was the fool for thinking so.

‘Well, things have changed around here,’ he said.

I can see that, Magenta thought, and took a few cautious steps further into the room. Nikolai held a hand up as though to tell her just a moment, and strode by her to the boy by the door. Magenta slowly scanned the hall once more, trying to comprehend what she was seeing. If Tabitha wasn’t here, she might be foraging in the wildlands. Or she could be out in the community. At this time of day, she might even be preparing a rationing for the midday service.

When Magenta spotted Tabitha’s upright piano, pushed over against the left wall, her heart cracked. The top of the piano was littered with disused plates and overturned cups. A long drizzling stain worked its way down the side. The greater portion of the instrument was obscured by a heavy, faded cloth; Magenta sincerely hoped that the fabric was keeping at least that part of the piano safe, rather than hiding some greater damage.

She suddenly longed only to clear it off and claim it.

One thing at a time, she reminded herself.

Magenta turned back to Nikolai just as he sent the young boy out with a pat on the shoulder. ‘I’m here to see Tabitha. She’ll want to see me. Just — tell me straight — ’ She swallowed an unexpected tightness in her throat. ‘Where is she?’

‘Yes, she would want to see you.’ Nikolai cleared a couple of nearby chairs and sat in one. ‘But here, don’t you want to sit down? You must be dying to hear what’s changed since you’ve been gone. Victus is all grown up, and one of the Gwerr now. Won’t be so easy to get his attention these days, though, the little birds tell me —’ He paused to nudge the other chair closer to her with his foot. ‘I can tell you everything. Set down your pack. Take a load off, little pink.’

Magenta ran her tongue over her teeth. Little pink. What an idiot Nikolai was, calling her names like they were still little kids. Magenta didn’t remember Nikolai well, but she was getting a clearer picture of him now than she could ever have wanted.

Nikolai ignored the fact that she had ignored his invitation to sit. ‘Well, if you aren’t interested in hearing about the poor little nowhere people you left behind, perhaps you’d be so gracious as to tell me this: Where have you been all this time?’

His insinuation niggled at her intended poise. ‘Inlands some. And Dariegus. Ivek.’

Nikolai whistled like he was impressed, to show how unimpressed he was. ‘Just for a lark, then?’

Magenta’s chest constricted and she forced herself to ease back out the tension. ‘To get stronger.’

Nikolai waved his arms like it was all suddenly making sense, falling into place around him. ‘Ahh, of course. And now you’re back — now that you’re stronger — and you’re going to, what, exactly? Finish what you started?’

‘I’m going to protect you from the manifesting darkness,’ she ground out between clenched teeth.

He laughed and slapped his leg in a show of humour. ‘Protect me? Why I’m flattered you’d think of me so. I had simply no idea you had eyes for me, Magenta.’

Why was him using her name somehow worse than when he used that ridiculous nickname? If he had any idea — But she wasn’t about to explain to Nikolai Azail of all people how the magic pulled at her. How if he’d seen what she’d seen, he wouldn’t be mocking it so.

‘Look, I’d better go, then.’ She could surely find someone else who’d help her. One of the friendlier faces — William, Noah, Tessica —

He stood up suddenly as Magenta went to leave. ‘Wait.’

But Magenta didn’t stop. ‘Look, like I said, I was just here to see Tabitha. She’s not here. So I’m going to go find her.’

‘You won’t find her.’

She slowed. Just go. He just wants to toy with you some more.

He repeated, in a sing-song voice, ‘You won’t fiiind heeer.’

She knew what he’d say next. And she knew she had a choice. She could walk right out the door. She could keep the tiny ember of ‘maybe’ alive, even in the face of all the evidence. Inside, her heart beat insistent denial through her veins, flushing up her neck. Magenta wasn’t stupid. She just wanted to be, in that moment. To be naive enough to hope.

Leave now and spare yourself the pain.

No.

Time to face the music.

She stopped right in the doorway and looked back. Her face as granite even as her ears rushed with her pounding blood. ‘Because she’s dead,’ Magenta said. Nikolai’s mouth hung open, his words stolen before he could speak.

The magic’s pull filled her cloven heart before the tears even began to collect in her eyes. Low and solemn and aching. She steadied her shaking arms by grabbing the pack straps that crossed her torso. She could get her violin out now, but would she play here, of all places? Perhaps there was no more fitting place to mourn. But in front of him, of all people?

When she had imagined coming home, home was Tabitha even more than it was the Annex, even more than it was Bluddrayl. Now that she craved a private moment, she realised acutely that she had no place, no home here.

Her eyes darted back to the piano.

Nikolai had recovered from his surprise and stood, sneering, between her and musical relief.

‘MAGENTA BLACK.’ His lips hadn’t moved and it wasn’t his voice. It was a booming call to her, from outside.

Magenta backed out of the main hall and into the central open area.

In through the entryway to the base strode two members of the Gwerr, the very same ones who had almost seemed friendly out on the street. They certainly did not seem friendly now. ‘Surrender yourself into our custody. For your crimes committed five years ago, you’re to be judged and sentenced by the court.’

She cursed and took a few steps away from them, shifting her straps. No time. Instead, she slipped a hand under her shirt and into her waistband, where a concealed pocket held a garklein recorder.

Nikolai emerged from the hall and then Magenta noticed the young boy he had sent away was returning to his side. They both looked immeasurably pleased with themselves.

The grief that poured from her chest contorted into a tight surge of rage and panic. A Nexed would never call the Gwerr on another Nexed.

The ideal breathing technique was controlled but Magenta spat her breath into the windway, shooting a flit of high A to G sharp to high A to G sharp at Nikolai. He was knocked flat onto his back.

Magenta had no time to savour this.

‘Surrender yourself into our custody,’ the guard commanded again. Both had their hands to their hilts.

Magenta took another few steps away from them and they broke into a run.

Could she flee? Should she flee?

Onlookers were being drawn by the sound, coming to the circle to watch. Finally, Magenta saw Tessica’s face, but she dismissed the thought before it formed. She would not do her the disfavour of drawing her into this — if she’d even come to her defense. Tessica’s face flashed recognition but did not reach quite as far as kindness.

Magenta brought the garklein back up to rest on her lip and tried to steady herself. Shifted her weight into her toes and gently, fully breathed the notes: F sharp to G sharp to A sharp, dipping into a modified scale — the guards slowed — and then sped up to ascend the range to almost the top, halting to hold at high G — the guards fell to their knees with a cry of surprise — and holding and holding —

The magic hung, suspended, waiting for her indication — a sudden drop to a low note would be like a kick to the stomach — a return to the gentler scale could hold them in place or drop them to their hands and knees —

And then what? Flee all the way out of Bluddrayl again?

Just like she had five years ago.

No.

She would face the music.

She let the song fall into silence and slipped the small recorder back into her pocket. She raised her now empty hands. ‘I willingly surrender myself into your custody.’ She slowly walked forward, then sank to her knees before the guards, who were now rising up.

For a moment they just looked at her, evidently suspicious of her sudden act of non-defiance.

And then the one with the booming voice smashed his fist across her face.

From the cold, hard cobblestones, Magenta looked up at the face of Nikolai Azail. She let the blood collect in her mouth before she spat it at his feet. He just kept on grinning at her, even as one of the guards placed three coins into his open hand. And then she realised how familiar this looked, him leering down at her on the ground. She realised he had been there that night.

‘It’s been a long time, little pink. Welcome home.’