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323 pages, Paperback
First published August 27, 2019
"Right," said Silk. She turned and looked at Vita, at her thin hands, at her bloodied elbow. "So if he's climbing the wall, and he's taming the dogs, and I'm picking the lock to the walled garden—what are you doing?"
Samuel and Arkady turned to Vita, as if the question had not occurred to them.
"Well...it's my family's emerald," she said reasonably enough.
"But what can you do?" asked Silk.
Vita's brain drew a total blank. She thrust her hands in her pockets, and her fingers met her penknife. She thought of Lady Lavinia, and her sharp-eyed watchfulness.
"Wait a second." The mostly-devoured loaf of bread still lay on the beer barrel next to the bread knife. She took it, an apple, and an orange, and set them side by side on the mantlepiece.
"My grandpa taught me to do this," she said.
She crossed to the far end of the room, took the bread knife, the steak knife, and her own penknife in one hand, and without pausing to make sure the others were watching her, threw the knives over their heads at the mantlepiece.
They yelped and ducked and twisted to stare.
The bread knife had sliced a chunk off the apple. The steak knife had stuck in the bread. And her own Swiss Army knife had cut straight to the center of the orange, filling the room with the scent of the faraway sun. In fact, she had been aiming to slice the apple exactly in two, like Lady Lavinia in Carnegie Hall, but she did not admit it.
"I can do that," she said. "I'm the just-in-case."
"Rimsky!" He made a whistling, hissing sound through his teeth. The crow took off, sweeping in three lazy flaps to land on Arkady's outstretched hand. She hopped up Arkady's arm to his elbow, leaned over to the boy's breast pocket, fished a crust from it, gave him a peck on the thumb, and took off again.
Arkady sucked a small amount of blood from his thumb. "Bird affection takes a bit of getting used to."

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“The night city was swept by a premature winter. An ice snap froze the water in the pipes. Sleet washed down the city, swept the detritus of the mud and the old newspaper and the furious cats out from the murky alleyways into the main roads.”