(60 Coda)

Ambrose had just chimed in at the coda, DG and him finishing out the charming little tune. At the piano sat Azkadellia, DG's older sister, making her first appearance during a Monday night dinner. The weeknight was unusual, the guests were varied, but Eddie's spirits wouldn't be lifted.

He couldn't enjoy the evening, the presence of the Princess Royal, the queen's kind smiles, or the wholesome conversation of Prince Ahamo. The evening's agreeable essence was soft candlelight and ample amounts of good wine. Ambrose had a gift for entertaining, and if Eddie forgot his troubles, it was thanks to Ambrose.

*X*

(61 Synonym; 62 Offside; 63 Leash)

'I don't understand why we cant find this guy,' Eddie said to DG, on a walk in a garden lit by moons, the aroma of flowers thick. He spoke on repentantly. 'They told me not to talk about work in front of you. I know you have your own worries, Princess…'

She did that snorting thing. He heard her do it before, but it always amused him. It wasn't a laugh, exactly. A slice of happiness in a sigh, maybe. He wasn't too great with synonyms. 'Wyatt and Ambrose like to protect me, that's all.' She held their pace at the fountain, water lights within cast trembling streaks across her melancholic face.

'You homesick yet?' he asked.

'I was going to ask you that.'

'I asked first.' She and her sister, now that he'd met Azkadellia, were, to him, the epitome of princesses: beautiful, regal, talented. This world made him believe in fairy tales.

'No,' she confessed. 'I'm not homesick. I always wanted to go somewhere else, do something else—be someone else. Not everyone has that chance. I did. Now, Eddie, your turn.'

The response should've been simple. Instead, he found other words. 'I got to London and focused on the job. I get here and—and I can't find who I'm looking for. I like it here. It fascinates me. There are ambulatory Tin Men—and princesses—and empathetic men like Raw—and a dozen places where a guy like Peter Hawskins can hide. But I'm offside here, somehow. Like I'm just waiting for everything to fall into place. You ever feel like that, Princess?'

She nodded, his hand lassoed in hers. 'Up until the day after the Eclipse, yeah.'

He gripped her hand in return, and, on instinct, leashed a wayward tress of hair behind her ear.

*X*

(64 Dishabille; 65 Gossip)

They were in dishabille, preparing for slumber.

'You and DG crossed boundaries of friendship tonight,' Monty observed. The intervention was waylaid as Eddie threw his pillow into Monty's torso. Monty smacked him back. 'And don't think I'm the only idiot that's noticed.'

'She's friendly, and—'

'Beautiful? Rich? Or was your prosaic side going for "very talented ar-teest"?' Monty stole a pillow from Eddie's bed, his having flown across the room. 'If you're not careful, her parents will ask your intentions towards her…' He pulled a face. 'What are your intentions towards her?'

'I'm. Going. To. Bed.'

The point galvanised when Eddie switched off the light.

It sputtered on again. Eddie got out of bed, retrieved his pillow from below Monty's head, and the light went out again.

'You'll be the subject of O.Z. gossip,' said Monty. 'Think of that.'

'I'd rather think of Peter Hawskins.'

'Eddie,' Monty angled the phrase into a joke, 'I never knew you felt that way about men. It would explain a lot. Speaking of, have we reached conclusions about Wyatt and Ambrose? I swear they were holding hands at dinner—or Ambrose was winking at me. I'm not sure which. Maybe it was both.'

*X*

(66 Find; 67 Attentive)

At Kicking Pickets, Rudy slipped in. 'Knew I'd find you here.' He was out of breath, having run the whole way from Station Eleven, the elevator still a go-between. His head bobbed in greeting to Captain Cain and Sergeant Glasse, the latter being Eddie's doe-eyed minion.

'And, Eddie, stop getting in the papers,' as a reprimanding Rudy pushed forward the society column of the Zonian Herald. Cain shifted uncomfortably. Glasse snorted into his beer. Monty, impassive about the article, fixed on Rudy.

'What do you want?'

'A beer. Sebastian's looks good.'

Sebastian Glasse smiled rakishly. 'He meant what do you want with us, Rudy.'

'Oh. Well,' Rudy paused, 'it's the oddest thing, but the other day I was at the supermarket with Anthony—for Aunt Avespa's creams—but we met a young woman he wouldn't tell me about.'

'We're surprised?' Cain lofted a brow. 'Get to the point, Rudy.'

Rudy often dallied. 'From what I understood, and judging by Anthony's discomfort—I think the woman knows Peter Hawskins.'

Eddie had been reading his name connected with the young princess, not a bit attentive. 'Rudy, what's this crap written in the margin? Looks like an address.' He felt Monty's gape. 'What?'

*X*

(68 Rejected; 69 Sense; 70 Faith)

One of the hottest nights of the season stepped into the city on the hill. DG was in a sleeveless white dress, gauzy and light, her bare feet across the cool grass. The fountain mist touched the back of her arms, an invisible kiss across her face.

'Destroy and surmount,' she said to Eddie. 'Is that your guys' goal, going out there? Ambly's a long way.'

'We're taking the station cars,' he said, her innuendo rejected. He didn't sense it the way everyone else did, didn't see what they saw. He sometimes thought she didn't either. 'Look, DG…'

'Yeah. It's silly, isn't it?'

'No, it's just… Not what I had in mind. Not that I wouldn't enjoy it. I would. I think I would, anyway.' But he grew agitated by Monty's monition, that this place was going to change him. If it hadn't already, it would. The changes, were they so terrible? Eddie didn't know if he was relieved or afraid when she sat beside him, again at the fountain's ledge, where they had had many intimate conversations. 'I didn't come here looking for anything. The only thing I wanted was—'

'Peter Hawskins.'

'Yeah, and—'

'You don't want any distractions.'

'Yeah, but—'

'I like you, Detective Arlette,' DG grinned passively as he showed defeat. 'But I don't really like you like that. Anyway, if I did,' she bobbed a fist upon his knee, glad for the truth, 'if you did, I think we'd both be hurting a lot of people. Two in particular that I can think of.'

Eddie held her chin and kissed her cheek. She waited for a farewell until he was nearly out of the courtyard.

'Eddie? You'll find Hawskins, and I have faith that the pieces will fall into place when you do.'

*X*

(71 Hot; 72 Stained)

'Bloody hot, innit?' chimed in Monty, leading the way through the hotel corridor's stained walls to their room. 'Who knew it could get this hot here?' An unresponsive Eddie tipped Pippin's attention. 'You seem a bit, I don't know, Eddie—dispirited. I thought you'd be very excited about tomorrow.' Monty pumped fists and set his mouth. 'Very excited, going after Portia Montague! If you ask me, you should really reprimand Sergeant Glasse for his negligence, never finding out that our dear, sweet Rosemary Hawskins had a step-daughter from her previous marriage.'

'I'm fine,' Eddie responded to the question of his health hidden in the madness of Monty's prattling. He removed jacket and undid buttons while Monty swooped to open the window.

'No gherkins,' he muttered, 'and no air conditioning.'

'You're from England. It's one of the coldest places on the planet.'

'That hurts my English pride.'

'Try being in New York City in August, then we'll talk.' Eddie was down to a white undershirt, suddenly self-conscious of Pippin. 'Now what? What? You look at me like that, and I start to feel ashamed for something out of my control.'

'That's the first time you've mentioned home since we got here.'

*X*

(73 Relocate)

Ambrose was at the station the next morning, in the haze of heat already filmy across the urban terrain. He wished "the boys" farewell, good luck, and rested Monty's suspicions that the relationship with Cain was more than Eddie's definition of "exceptionally affectionate". In the back of the car, having Glasse driving them, Monty chuckled contentedly.

'That was some passionate embrace.'

'Well, they're going to be separated for a while, and, you know, things happen.'

'Spoken like a true Zonian. Honestly, Eddie, you and ties.' Monty relocated the tie to centre. 'Can anyone blame you? They're not like our ties.'

*X*

(74 Scream)

Ambly was a state of rolling emerald hills and valleys of wildflowers, dotted in white spots, those turning out to be sheep. Cain told them more about Ambly, the northernmost O.Z. territory, as the ride was long, and nothing to say but the mundane.

The manor house of stone sprawled beside flat shores of a slow river. Tin Men emerged from vehicles, knowing the actions and rules. Cain gave an approving nod before they stormed in.

That's when it hit Eddie that he was storming a castle. Then all he heard was a woman's scream. A man shouted.

'Don't shoot!'

*X*

(75 Compliance)

Portia Montague had been found, a plain, plump mum with big-eyed daughters who stared up at Eddie in adoration. In her grosgrain housedress, she sat at the sofa, sniffling into a lace-hemmed handkerchief. She calmed down, and once the nanny took the children back to the nursery, Portia explained herself.

'He knew you'd come for him.'

In Eddie, the uncertain future began possibilities of liberation.

'Mrs Montague, where is Peter?'

Her watery eyes bespoke compliance. 'In the garden, Detective.'

Eddie rushed out, just to find a drab figure descending a hill of tall grass, three sheep coming up behind him.

*X*

(76 Conqueror)

'Hail the mighty conqueror!' cried a jubilant Peter from his sheep-covered knoll. He flailed a waving arm Eddie's direction. 'I wondered how long it would take you to find me! And, yet, here you are! All in one piece! How extraordinary you are, Detective Arlette!'

Eddie, witnessing Peter after the lapse of so many months, and having spent far too much time obsessed with this moment, turned utterly numb. There was Peter, dumb-faced and big-eared as always he'd been. Unchanged. Odd. Aloof. Home.

Out of nowhere, Pippin flew by Eddie and lobbed Hawskins in the jaw. Peter spun, gurgled, and fell into the grass.

*X*

(77 Urchin)

Monty patted Eddie consolingly. 'It's all right, Eddie. Don't—don't let him get to you. You mustn't ever let the urchins get to you.'

Cain and Glasse inspected the scene. Pippin shook pain out of his right hand. Glasse, astonished by the image, turned to handcuff Hawskins. Additional Tin men carried Peter across the lawn. All the while, Eddie stood motionless. Conversation wound on about him, spinning a web that closed him in. His feelings were out of control, and a sense of detachment swept him away.

He knew he'd been right, and he'd been wrong, at the same time.

*X*

(78 Sight; 79 Memory)

Eddie woke later, new world sights continuously circling. His heart pounded, repeating his insanity—and then letting go of stress and pounded relief. For a moment, he thought it might've been a dream, the O.Z., Peter Hawskins, the "Keen Inn"—and every bit of memory flashed through his mind with an agonising cacophony.

The fug cleared, and there was Cain standing over him, with Glasse and Pippin.

'You collapsed,' Monty told him. 'The convoy took Hawskins back to Central for questioning.'

Eddie squirmed upwards until Cain's hands pushed him back.

'Relax a minute, Arlette. I'll get you some water.' But it wasn't Eddie's shoulder he patted consolingly on his way, but Pippin's. With Glasse deciding it might be a fit time to check on the outside guards, only a grey housecat watched on.

'Big adventure,' started Monty. 'You were right. Peter did come home.'

'But I was wrong. The Pig said that I only wanted to find Hawskins to know if he was as miserable here as he was in England. And he isn't.'

'It's his home. And there is the murder of Margot Sprig.'

'He didn't kill her.'

'Then who did?'

Eddie looked at Pippin. Someone knew that answer.