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The sky around the Lighthouse was always bright. Emmrich had heard some of the others complain about it—they had difficulty telling day from night when there was no sun and no moon. Used as he was to the constant grey twilight of the Shrouded Halls, he found his natural rhythm quite easily here, even if he had to squint whenever he walked to the kitchen.

It was the middle of the night right now, little as the sky showed it. He could tell by the growling hunger that had taken him over. Late night study always called for a snack before he could rest.

He and Manfred ambled across the clearing. All was silent and still, other than the constant tumbling of the buildings suspended in the sky. Dare he imagine that all his companions were sleeping? That seemed unusual, from what he had seen of them. Neve, certainly, would be bent over her desk, or peering at her wall full of notes. Bellara was likely awake, as well, tinkering with the Archive. Davrin seemed to have the healthiest sleep schedule, although Assan's mischief and appetite often waked him before he wished to be. Harding, as well, seemed to sleep soundly on her thin bedroll. Emmrich couldn't imagine sleeping on a surface so hard, but he freely admitted he was a bit dependent on his creature comforts.

And then there was Rook. He found himself unsurprised to push open the kitchen door and see her sitting there at the table. She turned when he came in, and her brown eyes lit. "Ah, I knew I couldn't be the only one awake."

"No, sleeping seems to be an unfashionable pastime here."

She laughed. "That's a charming way to put it. Makes us sound quirky instead of just unhealthy."

"May I ask what has you awake at this hour? And can we offer you some of Manfred's tea?"

"Oh, that sounds lovely, yes. And, really, take your pick. Gods, Treviso, blight … I have a surfeit of nightmares." She sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Surely there are more interesting things to talk about than my poor sleep habits."

"I'm hardly a judge—I'm awake as well, as you can see."

"I do see that. Nightmares?"

"Night work. I do my best work in the wee small hours." Manfred appeared with his tea tray, and Emmrich poured for Rook. "Two sugars, no milk?"

"I'm surprised you remember that. It was a rather hasty tea before we left the Necropolis."

"If I hadn't, I assure you Manfred would have." But he blushed as he said it, because he would not have remembered how Bellara took her tea.

Rook sipped her tea, closing her eyes. "That's very good."

Manfred gave a pleased hiss.

She smiled at him. "How are you both finding your quarters? All moved in?"

"Really, we only brought a few essentials. Manfred was a great help with the selection."

"All those books, a few essentials?" Her eyebrows flew up.

Emmrich flushed. "Perhaps my definition of 'essential' is a little … unusual." He cleared his throat. "What a fascinating place this Lighthouse is. What do you make of it?"

Rook was caught in mid-sip by the question, and the answer came tumbling forth without any conscious thought. "I like it better with a necromancer about the place." Now where had that come from, she wondered, covering her confusion with another sip of tea. She looked over the rim of the cup at Emmrich, trying to read a response in his dark eyes.

"Do you?" he asked softly, obviously surprised.

It was Rook's turn to clear her throat, trying to put this back on a business footing. She must be more tired than she thought, to let something so … personal spill forth. Yes, she found his tall, elegant figure nice to look at, but this was hardly the time or the place. She made sure her voice came out strong and business-like this time. "Especially one with experience."

Emmrich didn't seem fooled. His voice was still soft, touched with the most alluring hint of wonder. "I must be sure to live up to expectations."

Rook swallowed against any other traitorous comments, looking around for another topic. "So … did you get the tour yet?"

He pushed his chair back, sighing. "Oh, I've been exploring, but … I noticed a few of the others taken aback by Manfred. And I overhead a few remarks about my skulls. My necromancy won't cause any undue worry, will it?" His eyes held hers, searching for the answer.

"We'll be fighting weirder stuff than necromancy," Rook assured him.

Emmrich smiled. "Ah. That's the hope."

"There's the spirit." She grinned back at him. "Anyone who isn't ready for walking corpses and a few skulls is going to have quite the time in some of the places this work takes us."

"I promise, I'm ready for anything. Even giant spiders."

Rook gave an exaggerated shudder. "You can keep those."

"Really? You, too?"

"What, afraid of spiders? No … but I can do without the way their guts splatter when you stab them. Like those blight boils. Makes me want to take a long, hot bath."

Emmrich caught his breath, unable to stop the vision that came to him of her in the bath, that glorious blue hair down around her shoulders, and he nearly spilled his tea.

Rook decided she had embarrassed herself enough for one night. "So, um … I think I … have some work to do. Knives, armor, arrows … Uh, yeah. Good-night." She paused in the doorway, glancing back. "Thank you for the tea, Manfred!"

He rewarded her with one of those oddly adorable hisses, and she hurried off to her room, where sleep would continue to elude her for the rest of the night … but for reasons that were not at all nightmares.