Dawn Study. Maria Snyder V.

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      “How do I know if the food has Theobroma or not?” he asked.

      I gave him a wry smile. “I can taste your food like I used to do for the Commander.”

      He snorted in amusement and continued writing. At the end of the ten days, if Cahil remained loyal to Bruns, I would agree to join their cause, do nothing to sabotage their efforts and be an active participant.

      “Like a cheerleader?” I asked.

      He was not amused. “More like a spokesperson. And help us with strategy and planning.”

      If he was no longer loyal to Bruns, then Cahil would join our side and be as engaged in our efforts. Cahil held up the finished treaty for me to read.

      “We’ll need witnesses, and you need to release me.” Seeing his dubious expression, I added, “If I’m chained to the wall when I sign, then even a bad solicitor can argue that I signed it under extreme duress and that I don’t have to comply.” Not like I’d ever break my word; signing the parchment was a mere formality and for Cahil’s peace of mind. But I really wanted to be free of these chains.

      Cahil disappeared and returned with two of his people. He introduced Faxon, and I already knew Hanni. Faxon unlocked the cuffs, and everyone stepped back a few feet with their hands on the hilts of their weapons. Amused by their skittishness, I rubbed my wrists, working feeling back into my fingers.

      When the pins and needles ceased, I signed the agreement, then handed the stylus to Cahil. He paused for a moment—probably trying to uncover any loopholes—and added his signature to the document. Hanni and Faxon affixed their names, and it was official. I focused on the fact that the baby would remain alive. At least for the next ten days. If this ended well, we’d have a powerful ally. If not...

      Best to focus on one thing at a time.

      I drew in a breath. “We need to leave,” I said. “Right away.”

      “Why?”

      I told him about the trail of bobby pins.

      “Shit.” Cahil barked orders to his people, harassing them to hurry and grab their things. We were leaving. Now.

      Keeping out of the way, I hoped I’d have a chance to send Fisk a note. One of the agents handed me a cloak to wear, and while everyone was occupied, I reclaimed my weapons and lock picks. Grief threatened to drown me, but I chanted keep the baby safe over and over in my mind to block the emotion. Also there was the possibility that Cahil lied about seeing Onora in the Citadel.

      Cahil returned. “Time to go.” He grabbed my elbow as we headed to the stairs. A number of his people preceded us, and the rest followed. Twelve total.

      “Can one of your crew deliver a message to Fisk?”

      He slowed. “Why?”

      “So when I’m spotted at the Featherstone garrison, he doesn’t risk his people trying to rescue me.”

      “Why would you be...” Cahil’s grip tightened, and he muttered a curse. “He has people in the garrisons, doesn’t he?”

      “There are many public roads to the garrison. We could be spotted at any place en route.”

      “Nice try, but you’re a lousy liar. Do you know who they are?”

      Now it was my turn to curse. “No.”

      “And you won’t tell me until the ten days are over.”

      “No, I really don’t know.”

      I wasn’t sure if he believed me, but he remained silent as we climbed the stairs and exited onto the warehouse’s ground floor. A few beams of sunlight pierced the blackened windows, providing just enough light to see the words written on the crates. Our group wove through them as if navigating a maze they’d been through a thousand times. I glanced at the floor. The dust was thick between the piles, but underneath our feet, the path was clean. Even I could follow this trail.

      “Head to the Council’s stables,” Cahil ordered when he spotted the entrance. “Yelena will ride with me on Topaz.”

      The door opened, almost as if on cue. Everyone grabbed their weapons as Onora strode into the building like she owned the place. I stumbled. The dam inside me broke, and grief ripped right through my body. The tiny spark of hope that Valek still lived died.

      Cahil’s hand steadied me. “Don’t worry. I won’t let her kill you.”

      I didn’t have the strength or the ability to correct him. Emotions lodged in my throat, cutting off my air.

      He faced me. “Breathe, Yelena. We might need you if this gets...ugly.”

      Right. I focused on Valek’s killer. Barefoot, and with her hair tied back, she looked years younger than twenty. Cahil’s agents spread out as much as they could among the piles of crates. Two of them held crossbows and they pointed their weapons at her, even though her hands were empty.

      No, that wasn’t correct. She played with two bobby pins, spinning them through her fingers. Ah, hell.

      Cahil strode forward. “You’re too late. Yelena’s in our protective custody. Go back to Ixia.”

      Onora cocked her head to the side. “Why isn’t she dead?”

      “None of your business.”

      “But Bruns wants her eliminated.”

      “Bruns? Are you working for him now?” Cahil asked in surprise.

      “No. Bruns asked the Commander to send me to take care of Valek and Yelena.” She met my gaze. “One down. One to go.”

      I drew my switchblade and advanced. The desire to plunge it into her heart pulsed through me. Cahil put a hand on my shoulder, stopping me.

      “Bruns would never turn to the Commander for help,” Cahil said.

      “Then maybe you need to have a chat with your boss.”

      Frowning, Cahil moved his grip to my arm.

      Onora noticed. “Unless you’ve decided to branch out on your own?” She waited. “No? Then give her to me. I’ll finish my assignment and be on my merry way.”

      “No.”

      “Why are you protecting her? She’s just going to cause you trouble.”

      “Go home, Onora. You’re outnumbered, and the ladies holding the crossbows have excellent aim.”

      Onora grinned, showing two rows of straight white teeth. “Are you sure about your math, General?”

      “I count fourteen of us and one of you.”

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