“You’ve got a trial set day after next,” Kit said, wiping at her mouth. “Thievery. From a spice merchant in Kiva. I was in the area on another job. Got it?”

Anji groaned. “Couldn’t I be in trouble for something more exciting?”

“You already are, and you’re about to be executed for it. Don’t you want to even pretend that’s not the case?” She began to say more, but a croaky voice cut the air ahead.

“Oh, but this is ridiculous!”

Anji and Kit spun toward the wagon ahead and the old man standing near its front wheel. The man threw his hat into the dirt and stamped on it, waving a crooked finger in a burly constable’s face.

“You mean to tell me I have to pay to enter a city I’ve lived in for forty years? Bah!” He waved a hand, turned to the wagon, and began climbing back into the driver’s box. “I’ve been coming and going through this gate since you were sucking on your mama’s teat, boy, and I don’t need you or anyone else—”

The guard grabbed the man by the collar and pulled him back into the dirt. The old man stumbled and yelped and landed in a tangle of limbs. “You bastards!” he shouted, and as one of the guards bent to bind his hands the old man pulled a knife from his belt and scrabbled to his knees. “Warden pigs, the lot of you!” Another constable stepped forward and without a word drove his sword neatly into the commoner’s chest and out through his back. The old man gasped and clapped his hands to the guard’s wrist, but after a moment went still as the soldier slid him off his sword with a booted foot.

The guard spat into the dust, ignoring the halfhearted cries from some of the crowd. He wiped his sword on the old man’s shirt, then dug into a pocket and produced a yellow sheet of paper, which he held high overhead as he shouted over the gathered crowd.

“Listen up, you lot!” he said, his voice competing with the roaring sea. “This here is a decree from Illuminator Escadora! His words give us the power to charge a fee to any seeking entrance to Tideron and its custom, be you citizens or foreigners.” He nudged the lifeless old man with his boot. “I want no trouble, you hear?” He gestured at the other constables standing in a line at his back. “We’re here to collect proper tolls and see no trouble is started. Anyone have a problem with that?”