“Do you understand where you are?” he asked. That was a stupid question. Maybe he was used to being cowered at. I did not cower. Why should I? I’d already met death three times now. So far, the fourth was a bit of a disappointment.

I collected facts the way other people collected jewels, and Vale’s home was overflowing with them—both facts and jewels.

“You know, I did wonder at first,” I said, “why you didn’t kill me when I came into your house. Now I understand it’s because you’re a bored, lonely man, desperate for any kind of company.”

But I liked making it my business to know things. It was the only thing I was any good at, and besides, when you don’t have much time in this world, you want to fill it with as much knowledge as possible.

“What will become of all of this when you die?” “I’m immortal.” I scoffed. “You’re not immortal. You’re just very long-lived. That’s an important distinction.”

“Time, Vale,” I said. “Time is the most valuable resource of all, and some of us are perpetually short.”

“It must be hard,” he murmured. “To bear the weight of so much affection in a life so short.”

“What is your name?” he said. “In case I need to verify your credentials.” “Lilith.” “Lilith…?” “Just Lilith. You gave me one name, so that’s what I’ll give you, too.”

That hand still rested there, right on my thigh. Was he waiting for me to say something? Had I missed a cue that I should know? I did that often. I looked down at that hand. “What—” “May I write to you?” he asked. My mouth closed. I blinked at him. “May I write?” He sounded vaguely irritated, and I wasn’t sure why. “Yes,” I said, at last. “Of