Kai left the poet’s house walking fast, but her leg soon revolted, forcing her to slow and lean heavier on her cane. The stroll should have been pleasant: a brisk cool trade wind blew off the morning’s heat and the harbor’s soft stink, leaving only salt and sun and space. But her talk with Margot festered in her mind.

Idiot. Fool. Romantic. She didn’t know whether she meant her, or him.

Margot couldn’t be left free. If he’d done what she thought—and all the evidence, including his own story, pointed in that direction—he was a threat: Not the man himself, but the possibility he represented. He had broken the island’s security somehow. What he did unconsciously, others could learn to replicate. If clients knew the pool was no longer safe, they would desert the Order in droves, and without the Order, the island would wither. Kavekana had no military, few resources. Without pilgrims and Deathless Kings, Kai’s home was a coconut lying in the sand, waiting for someone to break it open.

She could, should, tell Jace everything she knew, but after their argument last night, she doubted he would listen to anything short of an airtight story. He thought Kai was paranoid, desperate to the point of hallucination; that might cause him to miss a real danger. And Kai still had too many questions, about Mara, about Ms. Kevarian, about Seven Alpha herself.

Thinking about the problem all at once would get her nowhere.

Break it down.

Start with simple, easy knowns: Margot was a thief. He should be in custody, for his own protection and the island’s. Take care of that first. Next, find Mara, confront her, learn the rest of the story. Then go to Jace.

She needed muscle. Fortunately, she knew where to get it.

Her schedule this afternoon was all but empty. She’d claim a doctor’s appointment, and take care of Margot fast. Every minute spent was a minute wasted.

She reached the Order’s building, brushed through glass doors into the lobby, and tried and failed to catch the lift. She pressed the up button, crossed her arms, and waited, frowning at her reflection.

“Kai?”

A touch on her shoulder. She tried to turn, but her leg betrayed her and she tripped. A strong hand caught her arm before she fell.

“I’m sorry,” Teo Batan said. “I called your name, and you didn’t hear me.” The Quechal woman looked rested, happy, and innocent. She braced Kai’s weight and helped her right herself. “I thought we got off on the wrong foot yesterday.” Was that only yesterday? “Are you okay?”

Kai checked her skirt, her blouse, her hair, all in place. “I’m fine. Ms. Batan.”

“Teo.”

“Teo. I didn’t expect to see you again.”