I’m looking from Jag to Aarya, trying to decipher the meaning of his words, when I hear the faint clicking of boots on stone. Around the corner comes Logan, his unkempt dirty-blond hair falling around his face, a healing burn on his cheek, and a satisfied smile on his lips. My eyes widen.

“You treacherous little—” Aarya seethes, but Jag cuts her off.

“Enough, Aarya,” Jag says without raising his voice. “It only stands to reason that someone who would readily betray their friends deserves betrayal in return.” It’s a simple statement, one made without fanfare or overenunciated words, as though he were discussing nothing more than the weather, but it bowls us all over like a tidal wave.

Aarya’s mouth hangs open and we all stare at her. Has Aarya been speaking to Jag—has she been planning this with Logan from the start? Was Ash right about her all along? The force of the realization nearly knocks the wind out of me.

“How effing dare you!” Aarya manages, and looks like she might fight him, regardless of the knife pressed to her throat.

Logan watches her struggle.

Aarya’s face turns bright red, and she slams her boot into the shin of the guard who’s restraining her. Jag flicks his hand and the guard knocks her so hard in the head that she slumps in his arms. I glance at Ash, who looks like his worst fears are coming true.

Jag returns his gaze to me, examining my frozen stance, with the vial of lightning poison in one hand and a blowpipe in the other. “I think it’s time you put those down, don’t you?” he says, like I’m a child who brought my slingshot to the breakfast table. “Or are you going to fight to the death here and now?”

I look over my shoulder at my dad, who’s watching every word and every movement but hasn’t interjected. His eyes are full of frustration, and somehow I understand him. Jag would probably use Dad’s concern as an invitation to hurt me.

“He can’t help you, November,” Jag says.

I look back at Jag, whose placid expression hasn’t wavered, and as I meet his eyes, I feel as though I’ve shrunk.

“I’ll put down my weapons if you’ll let the rest of them go,” I say, forcing myself to maintain eye contact.

Jag sighs. “A compromise is essentially a loss. I never barter,” he says, and pauses. “And tell me, what is it that you’re threatening me with in that tiny vial?”

My eyes flit to the poison, terrified of handing it over to Jag.

“It seems I’ve made a very simple request that you are unable to fulfill. Maybe we should just use it on the small one to give you incentive to move things along?” He gestures to Ines and my heart jumps into my throat.