The words made little sense. Nolan glanced at Kit, then back at Chay. “What?” he said.

Chay spread his hands. “You have brought us timely warnings. You have brought us miraculous cures. Even I may live. For that we are profoundly grateful. And yet, this disease may turn on us still. Your cures may not be effective. Your vaccines may be useless. All the gulden may still be at risk. I think we can trust you more if we know you have left behind with us something you value greatly.”

“He does not value me,” Kit said quickly.

“Oh, yes, he does,” Chay answered. “It is obvious the man is in love with you. It was clear to me the day you arrived on my doorstep. I will keep you at my side—not because I adore you as I do not adore my own daughters—but because he will not do anything foolish while you are in my power and at risk.”

“You just told me,” Nolan said in a low voice, “that she was safe here. That your family and your friends would guard her. Do you tell me now that you lied? A man of honor such as yourself?”

Chay smiled; he seemed to appreciate Nolan’s inept attempt to use the gulden’s chief weapon against him. “Not at all,” he replied calmly. “She is safe from physical assault. But is she safe from your manufactured disease?”

“Chay!” Kit cried, and leapt to her feet, her hands balled into fists, and her whole body strained with protest.

Chay ignored her and continued speaking. “Because you said, did you not, that anyone with the smallest percentage of gulden blood was susceptible to this illness?”

Nolan nodded, not even breathing. Kit, though she had once more turned to stone, seemed to writhe in acid agony within her marble shell.

Chay’s smile widened. “Anton Solvano’s father took a gulden woman to wife,” the guldman said. “That he was allowed to do so was a high mark of favor from my father. But Anton himself appeared to be a pureblood indigo, a fact which amused him and which he learned, at a very early age, to use to his advantage. Very few people, I was told, knew of his mixed ancestry. Or am I wrong?”

“No,” Nolan breathed.

“So you see,” Chay said, reaching out a hand to Kit, who moved forward like a sleepwalker to take it, “if your drugs are not as effective as we hoped, the woman you have fallen in love with will die. You go. She stays. Only you know how confident you can be.”

Kit was staring down at Chay as if she had never seen him before. “You used me,” she whispered. “You called me to your side these past few days merely to expose me to the virus. Knowing I was unprotected. Knowing I could die. How could you do such a thing to me?”