“And I have mine.” Her eyes narrowed. “Do you think you’re the only one with secrets, Cobalt? Do you think you’re the only dragon who feels trapped by the organization? Who has his own agendas, not just Talon’s?”

This was a completely different attitude than the one I had encountered before. And I trusted this change of heart as much as I trusted a live viper. “Why would you help us?” I demanded. “A couple months ago, you were trying your damnedest to expose my network, and kill me in the process. What changed?”

“I had a job to do then,” Mist answered, unrepentant. “Just like I have a job to do now.” Her eyes flicked back to me and narrowed. “Make no mistake, Cobalt, it wasn’t my call to help you tonight. I’m just following orders.”

“Whose?” I asked, incredulous.

The hint of a smile crossed the girl’s face. “My employer would rather remain anonymous,” she said. “For safety. I’m sure you understand.” She glanced back at me, the amusement fading as a shadow of impatience crossed her face. “We don’t have much time,” she said in a low voice. “I can get you out of here, on one condition.”

Aha, there it was. I knew she wouldn’t do this out of the goodness of her heart. “Let me guess,” I said. “You need our help.”

“I don’t need you,” Mist answered. “I need that hacker friend of yours.”

“What do you want with Wes?” I growled.

Mist sighed. “There’s a sensitive file my employer wants me to steal,” she explained. “But it’s too heavily encrypted for me to find by myself. And as I assume your human hacker friend wouldn’t trust a word I say, I figure he needs to hear it from you.” She glanced at the door, as if making sure no one was coming in, before continuing in a lower voice. “This is the deal, Cobalt—I get you to that computer, you contact your computer genius and help me steal the information I need. Tonight. Then we leave the premises before Talon realizes what’s happened.”

“Just me? What about St. George?”

She gave the human a dubious look. “I doubt he can even stand, much less walk. Luther’s ‘techniques’ are intended for dragons, after all.” The girl shook her head, frowning. “There’s no time to wait for him to heal. We have to...”

She trailed off, a look of mild shock crossing her face. I glanced over my shoulder, just as St. George rose and walked calmly to the front of the cell. His jaw was set, tight with suppressed pain, but there were no obvious signs of injury, not even a limp, as he drew close to the bars.

“Don’t worry about me,” he told the Basilisk in an even voice. “I’m fine. I’ll keep up.”