Aarya pulls out something wrapped in linen from her bag. “Here,” she says, unfolding the fabric and handing me a wooden blowpipe. “I know Ash gave you his spare, but this one is much better.”

I take the blowpipe, tucking it into my coat pocket. “Thanks, Aarya,” I say, and Ash looks like he’s not entirely comfortable with the gesture.

“Also,” Aarya says, “about the lightning poison…”

Ash’s eyebrows rise, as if he knew something like this was coming.

“Do we really think it’s a good idea for November to have both of those darts?” Aarya shifts her gaze to me. “What if you get incapacitated? It’s just poor logic.”

“Let me guess,” Ash says, like he’s gearing up to argue. “You think you should have one of them?”

“Not me,” Aarya replies with feigned innocence. “And not you, either, since we all know that if November gets taken out, you’re likely to be right behind her doing some inadvisable thing to save her life. I just don’t think we should take any chances, considering we only have two darts of the lightning poison, which is why I’m suggesting we give one to Ines.”

Ash looks at her suspiciously.

“I actually agree,” I say, responding before he can. I know Ash doesn’t trust Aarya, but Ines is a different story. “It’s too risky to have both darts in the same place. We need a contingency plan.” I pull one of the small glass vials out of my coat pocket and hand it to Ines.

“Great,” Aarya says, but from the look on Ash’s face, it’s clear he doesn’t agree.

“Is there anything else I need to know about the Market?” I ask, putting on my coat.

“Just keep your hood up and stare ahead confidently. Strategia can smell weakness,” Ash says, pulling on his gloves. “The good news is that no one in the Market is particularly trying to attract attention; most people are conducting business or restocking supplies and don’t appreciate others being overly watchful.”

And just like that the conversation is over and we’re headed for the door. With every step my thoughts race with hopes that my dad is okay and fears that he’s not. Hang on, Dad; we’re coming.

Ash and Aarya lead the way into a narrow cobblestoned alley that runs between a fancy Italian restaurant and a bookstore with colorful window displays. Even though the lights on the main street are bright, the farther we go down the alley, the darker it gets.

Me: Almost to Market.

Near the end of the alley, Aarya stops in front of an old wooden door and pulls a set of lock-picking tools out of her jacket. There’s a faint click and it swings open. We all slip quietly inside. Ash takes a fast survey of the alley and closes the door behind us.