“They needed someone who could get into the Palace. I needed coin. They protected me from—” She broke off, sluggishly remembering that the Red Shields who’d attacked her had been from the Palace. It was so hard to know whom to trust, what to say.

Perhaps her garbled speech masked her lapse, because Malikel didn’t acknowledge it. “Tell me one more thing,” he said. “Does the Assassins Guild have any dealings with the Demon Riders?”

Kyra’s eyes snapped open and she straightened in her bed. Nausea rose dangerously high in her throat. “You think so too? I’d suspected. There was the armor.”

Malikel leaned forward in his chair. “Do you know how they got access to trade schedules?”

And just like that, the jolt of energy left her. Trade schedules. She closed her eyes. “He got them from me. I copied the schedules and gave them to him.” The Demon Rider attacks, the raids on the trade caravans. They had been her fault.

“I think that’s enough for today,” said Malikel. “Tristam, we have much to discuss.”

Kyra expected them to call the healer back in, but instead Malikel helped her lie back down on the bed. She watched them go, reeling at what she’d learned, the truth about the Guild that she could no longer deny. But right behind that realization, a wave of exhaustion followed as her wounds caught up with her. The two collided and dragged her back into darkness.

She slept for most of the next two days. The rest was good for her body, but as Ilona weaned her off the stronger sleep herbs, Kyra’s nightmares returned. Several times a day she woke up in a cold sweat to a reality that wasn’t much better. How could she have been so blind to James’s plans?

Ilona helped her regain her strength—first helping her stand, and then to walk. When Kyra was alone, she wondered about her future. Now that everything was out in the open, she had no idea what would come next.

On the third day, Tristam and Malikel came to see her again. The councilman’s expression was stern, and he entered with a gravity that made Kyra’s stomach heavy with dread. Tristam was also more subdued than usual.

“I won’t lie to you, Kyra,” said Malikel after they’d settled down. “You’re guilty of murder and high treason. The penalty is death, and neither Tristam nor I have the authority to change that.”

A lump rose in Kyra’s throat and she turned her face away. She had known this was the case, but somehow, she had hoped…

“We can’t change your sentence,” said Malikel, “but we can delay it. If you can help us against the Assassins Guild, the Council will grant a stay of execution.”

Kyra waited until she was sure she could speak. “So either I die now, or later.”