Nyx kept Kage back at the camp with Isabet, insisting that she’d need her on point in case they came running out of the place with thirty desert men on their asses. Safiyah argued against it, insisting that Kage would be useful inside Bomani. But Nyx just didn’t see that. What she needed inside was her magicians, not her sharpshooter.

They went in during the deepest part of the night, the day after Nyx’s escape. The longer they waited, the more likely it was Hanife would find their camp.

Safiyah slipped Nyx and Ahmed back into the vent.

“Good luck,” Ahmed said.

“Don’t die,” Nyx said.

“Trying hard not to,” he said.

Nyx padded down the corridor, Safiyah behind her. Ahmed stayed behind to guard their escape.

“This should be it, if your little Chenjan is truthful,” Safiyah said. She called something within the structure, and a neat slice appeared in the tissue.

Nyx pushed herself into the mucus-filled cavity. She went face first so she could get a look inside. It was another interrogation room, much like the one she had seen the day before. Empty.

Nyx squirmed the rest of the way in. She went immediately to the cells and looked in. The first three were empty. Had they taken him already?

The fourth had somebody inside.

Nyx pulled the bar of bug secretions from the door and opened it wide.

In the dim blue light, she saw a skinny, pot-bellied figure hunched in the corner of the room, hands and feet bound together. He squinted at her. The face was filthy, and unrecognizable.

Fuck, they had come all this way for the wrong man.

The broken old man inhaled deeply, and there was something in the eyes, then, some flicker of recognition, a sharp inhalation of breath. “Well,” he said. “At least they sent their best.”

It was Raine.

“I’m flattered,” she said.

“If you will not honor me, at least show some respect with a quick death,” Raine said.

“I’m not here to kill you, old man.” Nyx pulled her dagger and stepped forward. He squeezed his eyes shut. He seemed so much smaller now. A grizzled old head, ragged beard. She cut his bonds.

“I’m here to save you,” she said.

“Is this some kind of trick?”

“I’d like to say it was. I’d be lying.”

Raine began to laugh. It was a deep, grating sort of laugh that put her teeth on edge. It reminded her of times best forgotten. As she sheathed her dagger, she thought—for the barest of moments—to stab him in the throat. End of the road. End of everything. Cutting off heads was so much simpler than saving them.

“God has a terrible sense of humor,” Raine said.

“Always did. Come on. The sooner we get out of here, the less likely somebody is to raise the alarm.”