“My master was determined to destroy Jaedia, I know that much,” Tanax said. “Willing or not, I helped him. I would like to … try to make amends for that. For him.”

“You’re not responsible for Nicomidi,” Maya said. “No one is suggesting you are.”

“I know,” Tanax said. “But this is the right thing to do.”

Maya glared, and Tanax looked away awkwardly.

“I would also like to know why my master did what he did,” Tanax said. “Even if I cannot undo it. It’s … hard, not understanding. Figuring out what he was trying to accomplish by framing Jaedia seems like a good first step.”

“I’m not concerned with figuring out Nicomidi,” Maya said. “I just want to help Jaedia.”

“I know. I won’t get in the way, I swear by the Chosen.”

She gritted her teeth. “This is my mission. My command. You accept that, or stay behind. Is that clear?”

“Perfectly,” Tanax said, nodding eagerly. “I will accept your orders.”

Maya chewed her lip. She didn’t doubt Tanax when he said he tried to do what he thought was right; whatever treason Nicomidi had been involved in, she didn’t think he’d known about it. Part of her wanted to shove him away, this young man who’d arrested her, nearly killed her.

But having another centarch along would be an asset; there was no doubt about that. Especially if there was more to Nicomidi’s pursuit of Jaedia, and they ran into the disgraced Kyriliarch himself. Maya didn’t know if she and Tanax together were capable of taking Nicomidi on, but she wasn’t foolish enough to imagine she could do it alone.

“Tent,” she muttered.

“What?”

“You’ve got your own tent?” She took a deep breath. “Beq and I are sharing, but ours is only big enough for two.”

“I have my own.” Tanax ventured a smile. “Thank you, Maya. You won’t regret this.”

“I’m regretting it already,” Maya said as the big door opened and Beq came in. “Now, let’s get moving.”

Chapter 21

The basement door was exactly where it had been. Gyre pushed it upward with care and pulled himself up into Lynnia’s workshop.

The alchemist was hunched over her workbench, perched on the edge of her chair, just where he’d seen her so many times before. Gyre prudently waited until she’d set her mortar and pestle aside before he cleared his throat.

Lynnia spun in her chair, speed belying her age, snatching a clay alchemical off the desk and raising it over her head. She blinked, eyes adjusting.

“Who’s there?” she said. “Make a move and I’ll blow us both to the Chosen’s side.”

“I’m not sure there’s a need to go that far,” Gyre said. “If you don’t want people coming in through the back door, you should put a lock on it.”