Finding a parking place in Golden Gate Park is never easy, but luck still seemed to be with me, because Simon pulled into a handicapped spot—the first actual crime I’d seen him commit—and I managed to snake in behind a departing minivan, cutting off three families that had probably been circling for an hour. I kept my eyes on Simon, ignoring the rude gestures being directed toward me.

The don’t-look-here dissolved when Simon emerged from his car, brushing imagined dirt off his pristine suit. Giving the area a disinterested glance, he started toward the Botanical Gardens. I stayed in my car long enough to give him a reasonable head start, then followed.

Simon strolled through the gardens like a man with nothing to hide, even going so far as to pause and admire the ornamental lake, watching the swans that floated on the water like merchant ships on a quiet sea. Just when I was ready to back off to better cover, he started to move again, heading out of the garden and across the plaza. I followed to the end of the path, waiting to see what his destination would be.

He was heading for the Japanese Tea Gardens. I hesitated.

Golden Gate Park is carved into dozens of tiny fiefdoms—some no bigger than a single tree—and their boundaries are rigidly enforced. The Tea Gardens are held by an old friend of the family, an Undine named Lily. I could count on her for backup if I needed it, and there’s never been any love lost between her and the nobility. Maybe more important, there’s only one exit. Simon could get in, but he couldn’t get out.

That was the problem. Simon Torquill had always struck me as an arrogant jerk, and a lot of people were willing to say that he was evil, but he’d never seemed particularly stupid. He had to know Sylvester suspected him of kidnapping Luna and Rayseline and what would happen to him if his brother’s suspicions proved to be true. So why was he walking into a dead end?