“So what, are you saying I should forgive him, just like that?” I propped my hands on my hips and glared at him. “What the hell is going on? First Iannis, and now you, both telling me I should just let Rylan off the hook for nearly getting us all killed.”

Fenris rubbed a hand over his bearded jaw. “I am not saying you should forgive Rylan right away,” he said, “but you might consider moving in that direction. Iannis tells me that Rylan is the only member of your family who actually loves you, and that is not an easy thing to lose.” A shadow crossed his face. “I had to leave my mother and father behind in Nebara. They think me dead to this day.”

“Oh, Fenris.” I dropped to my knees in front of him, where he still knelt next to our prisoner. “That’s horrible. Were you close to your parents?”

He smiled, despite the somber subject. “I am nearly two hundred years old, Sunaya. It’s not as bad as losing your parents when you are young. But they moved back to Nebara when I became Chief Mage there to offer their support and advice, and we saw each other at least once a week. They were devastated when they learned of the Federation’s decision to execute me, my father in particular. He had strongly tried to dissuade me from what he saw as a disastrous, suicidal course.”

“I can’t imagine faking my death, and then being unable to tell my family I was still alive.” I wrapped my arms around Fenris’s broad shoulders and gave him a brief hug. “Do you ever think about getting in touch with them?”

“Yes, but not as much as I used to.” Fenris pushed back so that he could look me in the eye. “I did not tell you this story to elicit sympathy for me, Sunaya, but to make you reconsider your attitude toward Rylan. He may not be your only family, but he is your relative. This is your chance to mend the rift between you two.”

“Sunaya, Fenris,” Iannis called. “Are you coming out?”

“Coming,” I called back, relieved at the opportunity to drop the conversation. Fenris and I ducked out of the tent, popping the privacy bubble, and rejoined the others near the fire pit. Standing between Iannis and Elnos was an exact copy of the night guard captain—a tall, bulky man in a navy blue uniform with red embroidery. I assumed the red was a mark of the Resistance. Since this camp was hiding in plain sight, the soldiers couldn’t wear their red armbands.

“Whatcha think?” Rylan asked, wiggling his thick, dark brown mustache at me. “Do I look the part?”

My lips twitched. “You’ll do.” He sounded exactly like the captain too—I guessed Iannis must have put some kind of spell to help out with that part, since Rylan didn’t know his voice.