“He knows the plan,” Santi said. “We head for the basilica. Twilight is our best time; people will be heading home or out to take the evening air. It’ll be harder to recognize us.”

“No!” Khalila pulled away from him, from all of them, and backed toward the open door of the workshop. “No, I’m not going to leave Dario behind. Jess—” She tried to get him to look at her, but he couldn’t. Wouldn’t. “Jess!”

“The captain’s right,” Jess said, and hated himself for it. “We can’t wait. I’m sorry. He didn’t say where he was going, and we don’t even know where to start to look for him.”

“Then we try! We came back for Thomas! We can’t just abandon Dario!”

She read their faces, and then, without warning, dashed for the door. Jess had seen that coming, though, and he was faster. He wrapped her in his arms, and she fought him surprisingly hard, with sharp, precise blows that almost made him let go. Almost. He protected himself as best he could. “Stop. Stop. He’ll be all right, Khalila!” He looked to Glain for help. She folded her arms. Traitor.

“No, he won’t. You know he won’t! He’s not like you! He wants to show you that he can be just as clever, just as fast, just as . . .” She hit him again, this time a knee square to his family jewels, and he did let go. “Just as ruthless! And if you ever lay hands on me again, I will kill you, Jess Brightwell!”

“I believe you,” he gasped, and struggled not to double over. Failed. He’d done his best, and when Khalila moved to the door again, this time it was Scholar Wolfe who got in her way.

She didn’t attack Wolfe the way she had Jess. Maybe she didn’t have the stomach for it when Wolfe put his hand on her shoulder and said, in that dark, strangely gentle voice, “We’ll find him, Khalila. But not now. Now we have to look after ourselves.”

“Scholar—” Khalila’s voice was shaking. “I can’t abandon him.”

“You aren’t. He knew the risks. He wouldn’t want you to act impulsively, he’d want you to think. It’s your defining feature. Your grace. Your strength.”

She took in a slow, shaking breath, and turned away. Her face was set and terrible, her eyes like dark pits, and she met no one else’s gaze as she nodded. “Then let us run,” she said, in a voice drained of anything but anger. “Run and hide, like frightened rabbits. How does this change the world, cowering in the dark? They’ll pick us off one by one. Dario is only the first.”

“We’ll get him back,” Santi said. “Dario’s smart. He’s tough. He will survive this.”

Maybe he’ll survive because he never meant to come back. It was a sickening thought, but Jess was a practical young man. He didn’t have Khalila’s idealism, or her love-distorted view of Dario. Maybe he’s selling us out. In which case, we’d better move even faster.