Nyx finished her tea. “As for me, I’ve got a bounty to bring home. Or say I’m bringing home. It’s going to be a terribly fun time. I can see you’re disappointed to miss it.”

“I’m sure we’ll have all the enjoyment here we can handle,” Inaya said.

44.

Nyx stepped out into the rainy morning. Rhys waited on the stoop of the old factory that Inaya’s compound was built beneath. There was a smell of smoke in the air. Nyx heard the sound of gunfire, far off.

“I’m glad this is a short trip,” Nyx said.

“I’m sure you’d love to stay longer,” Rhys said.

She looked off further down the lane, where Ahmed and Safiyah were buying food from one of the only open stalls. “Sure you’re not coming?” she said.

“I’ve had my fill of bel dames, thanks,” he said.

“You think you can make your way to the port?”

“Inaya’s always been precise with directions. I expect I’ll have little trouble finding any number of ships fleeing Ras Tieg right now.”

Nyx nodded. She pulled on her hat. The hats here were like cowls, covering the neck and face with a fitted sleeve, topped in wide brims. She hated them.

“We done then?” she said.

“Good luck with Fatima.”

“The words ‘luck’ and ‘Fatima’ should never be used in the same sentence. We’ll see what her reaction is when we say we’ve brought him back. I think I can get something out of her.”

“What are you going to do about the boys? The new government?”

“Raine’s agreed to handle that from here. He sent out some communications last night to let people know he’s alive. I had him put somebody in his place, too. Somebody to speak for him. Help with the politics.”

They stood for a while longer in the rain. Nyx heard more gunfire. She knew it was time to move. Her feet were already wet. She never bought the right shoes in these cold countries. Trouble was, her feet were going to take her in a different direction from Rhys.

“I should go,” Nyx said.

“Nyx?”

“Yeah?”

“When this is over, what happens?”

She shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Nyx?”

“Rhys?”

“Have you ever been happy?”

She thought of Radeyah, and drunk nights at the fights. Dinner with Anneke’s squalling kids. The stink of the ocean. And she remembered, during all those moments, of yearning for this one: the sound of gunfire, and Rhys’s body beside her.

“No,” she said.

She turned away, and started walking across the muddy street to join what remained of her team. Cutting everything up, cutting everything away. And for what? A chance at saving Nasheen from blowing itself all to hell? Some days she wondered if it was worth it. She had killed a lot of people, for nothing. Given up everything she loved, for nothing. Saved nothing.