Chapter 43: The Prince Who Served

"Give it to me," said the Third Prince. He held out his hand. Long and pale and beautiful, palm up, in the doorway of his own round cold room, with the storm-heron feathers in their sconces behind him. Mei held the book against her chest. It was so cold it burned through her jacket. "No," she said. "Ferrywoman." His voice was gentle. "You've broken into my rooms. You've opened my chest with a stolen key. You're holding the Register of Substitutes, which no mortal hand has ever touched." "And you're standing in a tower at the bottom of a lake," said the Third Prince, "on the fifth day of the fifth month, which is, as we both know," he smiled, "your day." Ling moved. The Third Prince didn't look at her. He moved one finger, and something came up the stair behind him, out of the green shadow, pale and…