He hadn’t had a plan, when he’d talked to her. The words had just come tumbling out, the product of a thousand imagined conversations, a hypothetical argument turned horribly real.

The hard part is that it went about as badly as I expected.

Something at the back of his mind, the part of him that had never grown up, screamed at him that he should have stayed. Talked to her, made her understand. I wouldn’t have gotten the chance. The notorious rebel Halfmask had a prison cell to look forward to, at best, and more likely quick execution. He doubted that Maya, young as she was, had the authority to change that.

And maybe she wouldn’t have wanted to. Just because she’d let him go, in the heat of the moment, didn’t mean she would take his side in front of the dux and her fellow centarchs.

She’s a centarch. The look in her eyes had been all he needed. The superior glare that said he was beneath contempt, even before she’d recognized him. I always knew I would never get her back.

Kit moaned weakly, but her eyes stayed closed.

The cab driver let them out, and Gyre shoved a few thalers into her hands, waving aside her offers to help. Gathering Kit in his arms again, he trudged around the corner and made his way to Lynnia’s front door. On the doorstep, he realized he didn’t have his key—he hardly ever came in this way, and it had been at the bottom of his pack—but the lights were still on, and Lynnia opened the door to his knock.

“Get inside!” she snapped at the sight of the two of them. “Fool boy. What if someone followed you?”

“Don’t think they did,” Gyre said. “Auxies are busy.”

“I thought you were caught for sure, or dead.” Lynnia slammed the door and started pulling the curtains, her bad leg dragging behind her. “What happened?”

“What happened?” Gyre blinked. His head was still pounding, and his scar throbbed. “What do you mean?”

“At the tunnel, you plaguing moron!”

Gyre frowned. “Nothing happened at the tunnel. Kit and I got … we missed the rendezvous. I thought Yora would call everything off.”

“You …” Lynnia stopped, facing the last window, and didn’t look around. “Oh, Chosen defend. You don’t know, do you?”

Gyre’s throat went tight. “Know what?”

“The tunnel was an ambush. Yora’s dead, Gyre.” When she turned to face him, her face was tight with fury. “A lot of the others, too. The rest are in the dux’s cells. Sarah’s with them, I hear, but they don’t expect her to survive.”

“Yora’s …” Gyre swayed. “She …”

“Where were you?” Lynnia stalked closer. “You didn’t even know? Gyre, what have you done?”