Chapter 1

1

Rain hammered at the windowpanes, the sunlight not making it through the heavy clouds. Archibald Jaeger remembered a time when the days were bright, and there wouldn’t be a drop of rain for weeks. It was a lifetime ago. He hadn’t lived a lifetime, not even half of his, he hoped. But when days and nights bled together, and seasons no longer differed from each other, the year became endless.

The old-fashioned brass bell chimed above the door as Edie crossed the threshold with a huff and a shake of her shock-green umbrella. Her gaze landed on him, and she narrowed her eyes. “If that’s polyester, I might have to ask you to leave.”

Archie glanced down at his vest and dress pants. Ginger, the tailor had called the color. Archie would say sand or maybe beige, but the word beige tended to make Edie groan or stick her tongue out, and he preferred pretending he didn’t know what her tongue looked like. “You said not to wear black or gray.”

“I know what I said, the rest was implied.”

Archie looked at himself again. He liked the way the vest hugged his waist, loved how it looked over his black dress shirt, and how it was classy without being a suit, though he had a suit jacket he could put on should he need it.

“You know Archie, the world is dull enough as it is without you trying to turn it into a black-and-white tragedy.” She gestured around the bookstore—dark wooden shelves filled with dark, dusty book spines. He could hear a faint splash as the rain leaking through the roof dripped, one drop at the time, into the bucket he’d placed not too far from his bed.

“How can you live like this?”

Archie didn’t answer, they’d had this conversation a hundred times—though he guessed for it to be called a conversation, he’d have to respond. Edie needed to vent, and no response would stop her.

“Look at all this! When was the last time you dusted? There is spider web on the shelves.” She peeled off her coat, revealing a floral tunic so bright it hurt his eyes, and sank down on the bar stool by the end of the counter next to the coffee maker. “I hate this weather.”

She ran a hand through her long, wavy brown hair and glared at him as if she knew what he would say already.

“It’s not too bad.” He stepped behind the counter and poured her a cup of coffee and then one for himself, adding a healthy splash of milk in his from the mini refrigerator hidden in the corner.

“You never go outside, so of course it doesn’t seem too bad when you never go outside.”

He nodded. It was hard to deny. “It’s Wednesday.” Meaning it was Tuesday yesterday, and since Tuesday was shopping day, he’d been outside.

She snorted. “Walking fifty steps to the corner store, clinging to the wall the entire way, doesn’t count.” Life with Edie was easy, he never had to explain what he meant.

“I do not.”

“You went somewhere else?”

“No.” Of course not. “I don’t cling to the wall.”

She poked out her forked tongue, and Archie shuddered.

“Go change clothes.”

Archie kept his face blank as he met her gaze. He would not change clothes. He wore perfectly suitable clothes and there wasn’t a crease in sight.

“We have a meeting in half an hour.” When he didn’t answer, she huffed. “Could you at least try to look like you’re alive? If anyone opens the door, they’ll think they’ve accidentally stepped into an ancient movie. People don’t want monochrome, Archie.” Her voice grew louder with each word, and he almost expected to see fangs—she had four in her upper jaw. They peeked out when she was upset or if someone happened to scare her, but most often she showed them off because they made him uncomfortable.

They were an odd pair. He was Archibald Jaeger of the Elicoa Jaeger line, one of the most respected families of finders in the world, only he couldn’t find a needle in a haystack even if someone had been kind enough to tie a string to it.

He found stuff all the time, couldn’t go outside without the impressions attacking him, but he never found what he needed to find which kind of was the whole point of finders. It happened that he stumbled upon things he’d been meant to find a few weeks or months later. They never specified an estimated time to their customers, but when it took more than six months people normally weren’t overly impressed.

And Edie Sweet was anything but sweet, she was part nagi—in other words, she was poisonous. Part something, it didn’t matter what, wasn’t welcomed in the non-human districts, so they lived in Stratholm, a human area, and pretended she was human. If they had to go into the non-human districts, they swore she was nagi—not part anything, full nagi.