The first turn we take, the streets are eerily empty. However, the farther along we get, the more I hear the buzzing of conversation and the promise of a crowd. As we turn a second corner, Ash reaches out, squeezing my fingers. He meets my eyes momentarily, giving me an encouraging nod; then he and Aarya break off from our group. My stomach churns uneasily the farther away he gets.

Ines walks by my side as we turn away from our friends and emerge through an archway into a big courtyard made of stone. The ceiling looms high above us in a series of domed arches, and the courtyard is bustling with vendors and shoppers from all over the world. Wooden stalls display everything from rare daggers to deadly poisons. And shop windows are lit with oil lamps and candelabras. It’s the medieval assassin’s version of my town square.

I concentrate on keeping my face unreadable, but everywhere I look there’s a potential threat. I move with purpose like Ash suggested, but even so, I fear that every Strategia we pass knows I don’t belong here.

Our pace doesn’t slow as we weave through the busy central square and onto a cobblestoned side street that’s much broader than the ones we were previously navigating. It’s well lit with torches and oil lamps and is an Old World version of the lively London streets aboveground. We pass several restaurants and an antique sword dealer before stopping in front of a pub.

Ines pushes the door open and I quickly scan the room. It’s exactly what I think of when I picture a tavern—cozy and boisterous, with a handful of wooden tables and a lively bar. The place is sparsely lit by torches, which works to our advantage because of the shadows they cast. I immediately head for a small table in the corner near the window that doesn’t leave us exposed to the other customers, careful to avoid eye contact with anyone as I pass.

I choose a chair that gives me a view of the pub across the street, which seems to be much bigger and fancier than the place we’re in. Above the entrance to the pub there’s a big wooden sign with the name THE LIONS’ DEN painted in gold letters. And outside the door are two serious-looking men, one of whom I would guess is nearly seven feet tall. I gulp. My dad was right when he described the guy as tall.

I peek at my phone in my pocket for messages from Layla that came in before I lost reception.

Layla: Be safe. See you in the Lion estate.

I erase Layla’s text as Ines sits down across from me. She doesn’t say a word and neither do I; we just tilt our heads down, covertly keeping track of that bouncer like our lives depend on it.