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And only Teia knew now about the Old Man’s office. Only she had the code. It’s war, T. Friends die. Jaw clenched, heart leaden, Teia went out onto the balcony, closed the door behind her, and stepped onto the climbing crescents. She descended, taking away the evidence of Marissia’s murder with each step. It’s war, T. The innocent die. And the best their friends can do is get vengeance. Later. ” Gavin knew that voice. He opened his eye, tried to turn, but he was bound to a table, arms extended, nothing beneath them, as if on a raft over an ocean that was no longer there.

She hadn’t known Marissia outside of their work, but she’d felt a kinship and deep respect for the woman. They had both been slaves. Both were spies, and Marissia had risen as high as any slave or spy could. Marissia had once told Teia that the Order would make her do something terrible. ‘Let it be on my head—but do it,’ she’d said. But there was no way she could have guessed that the something terrible would be her own kidnapping and likely murder. Another tug. Master Sharp had ducked into the slave’s closet off the main room, out of sight and earshot.

Teia froze. There was a hook in that question. Marissia the Prism’s room slave might have squirreled away a small fortune. Marissia the spy would have saved a lot more, and with her life on the line, would she not offer a large bribe? But maybe not too large, a spymistress would be smart enough to start small— Too long, T, don’t take too long! Teia said, “She hadn’t mentioned any figures. And I wasn’t listening, anyway. ” Change the subject, change the subject. ” Master Sharp asked. ” Teia asked.

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