Unlike the outer portion of the Palace, the Fastkeep was older and built for security. The buildings here were squat granite structures with thick walls. Occasionally, Kyra saw a courtyard, but these grassy spaces lacked the trees and fountains that graced the outer Palace.

She shivered. Although the top of the wall shielded her from the wind, the granite’s chill seeped through her trousers and the back of her tunic. It would have been warmer inside the buildings, but she had strict orders not to go indoors. She’d found the nights difficult at first without the benefit of movement to keep warm, but weeks of sitting out at night had acclimated her to the cold.

Kyra put the finishing touches on her map and tucked away her charcoal. Carefully, she rolled up the parchment and slid it down the back of her tunic before turning around to grip the wall. She listened for footsteps. Satisfied that no one was nearby, Kyra threw her grappling hook over. The clink of its landing rang through the darkness.

The sound was too loud for comfort, and she wasted no time in pulling herself up. Once away from the wall, Kyra allowed herself a quick stop by the kennels. As she came close, several noses pushed between the slats of the fence. A few dogs whined loudly, and Kyra shushed them with a whisper. She’d always been a good dog talker. Even the fiercest guard dogs whimpered and rolled over, baring their bellies to her in fear. Flick teased her about it, saying that dogs were the best judge of character, but he couldn’t deny that her gift was useful in that line of work.

Once safely out in the city, Kyra jogged to the Guild. Two shadows detached themselves from the side of the building as she approached. The larger shadow planted itself squarely in front of her.

“Let me through, Bacchus,” she said, her shoulders tensing. “I’ve got something for James.”

Bacchus snorted. “The fine lady.” He didn’t move.

Kyra moved to step around him. Bacchus started to block her again, but the other shadow spoke. “Let her through, or you’ll hear from James.”

Bacchus glared and stepped aside, muttering loudly about a good-for-nothing wench. Kyra skirted past him to the door and entered without knocking.

She glanced into the storeroom as she passed. One man she didn’t recognize was polishing weapons at the back. Rand was also there, talking to a man whom she thought was called Alex. Rand saw her and beckoned her over. Alex gave her an amused look and sauntered to the window without speaking.

“I’m bringing a map to James,” she said.

“He’s busy,” said Rand. “We can get a round in.”