Beq fell silent. Maya thumbed the latch, and they made it as far as the couch in the sitting room. Beq slipped away from her arm and sat down heavily, pulling her spectacles aside to wipe at her eyes.

“Thanks,” she mumbled. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your party.”

“It’s fine. I’m not here for parties, anyway.”

“You should go find that girl.” Beq made a shooing motion. “Go. I’ll be all right.”

“You’re sure?”

The arcanist gave a weary nod and put her spectacles back on. “Go.”

Back in the corridor, Maya leaned against the wall and let out a long breath. Parties. Her own room wasn’t far, but she thought she should at least find Tanax and explain what had happened. Assuming he’s not stumbling drunk by now, too.

Unfortunately, reversing the directions the footman had provided proved to be more difficult than she expected. Most of the Spike was quiet and gloomy, the sunstones set to a gentle twilight glow, and all the corridors looked similar. She was reasonably certain she was headed in the right direction, but the courtyard full of life and light eluded her.

After a third wrong turn, Maya felt her head start to pound. Should have gone back to bed after all. She heard voices ahead and hurried toward them, willing to put up with a servant’s arched eyebrow. At the last minute, though, she pulled up short, recognizing one of the voices. Raskos.

“You’re certain?”

“Yes, sir.” The other voice was a man’s, clipped and professional. “Yora and Halfmask are there.”

Rebels? Maya eased forward. The dux was in a small study, the doorway half-open. He sat at a desk with several pieces of folded paper in front of him. On a torn envelope, Maya recognized the seal of the Council’s letter. The other man, tall and gaunt in an Auxiliary uniform, stood in another doorway, beside a hearth where a fire popped and crackled.

“Very well,” Raskos said, setting down his pen. “What do you need?”

“Ten squads, at least. Halfmask is tricky.”

“He’s a roach,” Raskos snarled. “You don’t need a blaster to crush an insect.”

“You want to ask your Order friends to assist?”

“Don’t be stupid. We can’t have them blundering about.”

“Then I need ten squads,” the man said.

“Take them,” Raskos muttered. “Just be certain you get them all.”

“Of course, sir.”

Booted footsteps walked away. Raskos looked down, mopping his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief. His eyes shifted, reading, and then he swore quietly. He crumpled the page into a ball, tossed it into the hearth, and got up, coming in Maya’s direction. Maya quickly scrambled back from the doorway, arranging herself in the hall as though merely lost, but Raskos didn’t even glance her way when he emerged, turning in the opposite direction and striding off.