But she’d respected Councilmember Reyka.

“The village to the south,” Ayla said, covering Crier’s awkward silence. “It wasn’t called Elderell, was it?”

“That’s the one,” said Dinara. Her smile faded. “Ma’s still there. I tried to convince her to leave, after—after we found out what happened to Mother. After the Red Council practically paraded her body through the streets of Yanna, pretending to mourn. I don’t think Ma’s safe in Elderell. But she wouldn’t listen.”

Crier hadn’t known the council had found Reyka’s body. She wondered if Queen Junn had let them find it, as some sort of message. “I’m sorry,” she managed. “I’m so sorry about your mother. She deserved better.”

“All of us do,” said Dinara. “But as long as Kinok lives, that’s not what we’ll get.”

“Do you know who was responsible for Councilmember Reyka’s death?” Crier asked carefully.

Dinara looked away, a muscle flexing in her jaw. “I have my theories,” she said. “No matter who gave the order, I know Scyre Kinok was watching my mother. Tracking her. She’d been working against him ever since he left the Heart to become a Scyre—she knew he was dangerous even then, long before he ever founded the Anti-Reliance Movement. And—I think somehow he found out about my ma and me. He started spreading rumors among the other Red Hands. About how my mother wasn’t fit to be a councilmember, she was too soft, she’d choose humans over her own Kind.”

A memory surfaced. Crier’s first and last council meeting, when her father had given Reyka’s empty seat to Kinok. Perhaps she’s finally joined the humans, Councilmember Shen had said. That’s where she belongs. And then, from Kinok himself: It was odd for Councilmember Reyka to be so . . . passionate about humans, was it not?

At the time, Crier had thought the statement was directed entirely at her. That Kinok was mocking her about her fifth pillar. Passion. But if he’d known that Reyka had fallen in love with a human, if he’d been turning the other councilmembers against her . . . He wasn’t just mocking Crier. He was telling the Red Council that Reyka wasn’t worth searching for.

“We have the same goal,” Crier said, looking at Dinara head-on. “We both want Kinok to answer for his crimes. And . . . it can’t be a coincidence you’re camped here in the foothills, so close to the Iron Heart. You’re trying to find it, aren’t you?”

Dinara didn’t answer. Her eyes flicked over Crier’s face, as if searching for any sign of deception.

“Let us join you,” Crier said. “Please. I—I don’t have much to offer, but I am Automa. I have an Automa’s senses. The Iron Heart was built for my Kind, I might be the best chance of finding it.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Lady Crier,” said Dinara. “You and your girl can join us—any friend of my mother’s is a friend of mine. But we’ve already got our best chance of finding the Heart.”