“All right,” said Kyra. “No Bacchus, then.” She had to admit it was a relief. Bacchus had not been openly hostile since the armory raid, but they weren’t exactly the best of friends.

James squinted at the wall, lost in thought. “Alex is solid all around. We’ll take him. Rand’s fast, but he loses his head under pressure. Shea can keep him in line if we keep them together. Will you be the only one scouting ahead?”

“Should be. I don’t see why we’d need other scouts.”

“This will do, then. Shea can’t fend off multiple guards, but if we stay together, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“You know your men well,” said Kyra.

“Your job is to crack the Palace. This is mine.”

She wondered if James had a similarly clear picture of her own strengths and weaknesses. She snuck a glance at his face as he studied the map. There really was something about him, and Kyra no longer found it hard to believe that he’d risen to power at such a young age.

After the broad strokes were planned out, they went back through for the specifics. James asked about the area in minute detail—the guard schedules and shelter available on each segment of their path. With each additional point they discussed, Kyra’s respect for James grew. He had a remarkable memory, referring to details she had given him weeks ago, and an impressive ability to map out multiple possibilities and contingency plans at each step. Kyra couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such an engrossing discussion. They spoke the same language, instinctively agreeing on the important issues and working off each other’s ideas in quick succession.

“Can you pick the storeroom locks?” James asked.

“Not the outside door. I’ll have to climb in one of the windows and pick the inside entrance. Can you four hide that long in the open?”

“You’re not the only one who can dodge guards, Kyra.”

She looked up, worried she had offended him, but his eyes were friendly, even amused. Suddenly self-conscious, she looked down.

“Of course,” she said. “We’ll have an hour or so in the storeroom. Will that be enough?”

“If we work quickly.”

Kyra noticed how close together they were standing—so close she could feel the heat from his forearm as they both leaned over the desk. She flushed and drew her arm away. James pushed back from the table, studying her again with a thoughtful expression. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you, Kyra.” His voice was soft, lacking its usual edge.