Michel once told her that she and Eshe had aged faster in Ras Tieg than he expected. The face she saw in the polished mirror each evening was different than the one she had brought with her nearly seven years ago. Fine lines creased her face now, and she felt as if her body had already begun to bend and sag in all the wrong places. Her muslin habits had become baggier as the stress and low rations had taken their toll. Eshe, for his part, was a young man, lean and well-muscled, and a head and shoulders taller than her now—a very Nasheenian build that made him stand out more in crowds. His height was even harder to hide than his half-breed complexion, so he stooped more, even in her headquarters among his own kind.

Inaya reached out and took his hands. His were nearly as rough as hers, darker, though she was part Nasheenian, too. The Nasheenian part of him had not balanced well with the Ras Tiegan features, and he had a typically flat Ras Tiegan face with a bold Nasheenian nose and broad cheekbones. When she looked at him, it reminded her all too often of how imperfectly the two of them tried to straddle the line between one world and another.

“I asked Isabet to report back to me about your methods,” Inaya said softly. She watched him carefully as she said it.

He immediately pulled his hands away. “Her? You asked her to spy on me?”

“I’m worried about your violence, Eshe. I’m worried—”

“You’re worried I’m going to be like her,” he said.

“It is a fine line we walk, Eshe. Not all of our goals can be accomplished by violence. The more violent shifters are, the easier it is to dismiss our cause—”

“And the easier it is to roll all over you,” Eshe said. He stood, color blazing on his face. “These people were a bunch of bloody cowards before we came here. Bloody kittens. I taught the younger ones to fight, just like you asked. Now you want to rein us in?”

“Not them,” Inaya said. “You. I know you are not like her at all, not really, but you try so hard to be. It puts our people in danger. And the cause.”

“I’m saving—”

“You are killing people for crimes long done and buried. I need the support and voices of these men, Eshe, and you are making that… difficult.”

“When did we stop getting things done and start licking priests’ asses?” Eshe spat.

Inaya stood. “That priest whose wake you just attended has a family, and they’ve asked for blood debt. God’s Angels rounded up a dozen shifters in retaliation. Now your face and local name are on the list. Those Angels will be coming for you next, and none of us can afford that. All killing gets us is more killing.”