“You’re awfully quiet,” Hadrian said to the darkness.

“I’m trying to figure this out,” Royce replied.

“Figure it out?” Hadrian laughed even though his arms and wrists burned like fire from the metal cutting into his skin. “We’re hanging chained to a wall, awaiting execution, Royce. There’s not that much to it.”

“Not that. I want to know why we didn’t find anything wrong with the spouts.”

“Because there’s a million levers and switches in there and we were looking for just one?”

“I don’t think so. When we got to the bridge, what was it you said? You said you didn’t think anyone could scale that fortress except me. I think you’re right. I know Merrick couldn’t. He’s a genius, not an elf. I always outdid him when it came to anything physical.”

“So?”

“So a thought has been nagging me since they brought us here. How could Merrick get into Drumindor to sabotage it?”

“He figured another way in.”

“We spent weeks trying to do that, remember?”

“Maybe he bribed someone on the inside, or maybe he paid someone to break in.”

“Who?” Royce thought a minute. “This is too important to trust to someone who might be able to do it—he would need someone he knew could do it.”

“But how do you know someone can do something until they’ve actually—” Hadrian stopped himself as the realization hit. “Oh, that’s not good.”

“Throughout this whole thing we’ve been following two letters, both written by Merrick. The first we thought was intercepted and delivered to Alric, but what if it was intentionally sent to him? Everyone knows we work for Melengar.”

“Which led us to the Emerald Storm,” Hadrian said.

“Right. Where we got the next letter—the one to be delivered to that crazy Tenkin in the jungle, and it just happened to mention that Drumindor was set to blow.”

“I’m not liking where this is heading,” Hadrian muttered.

“And what if Merrick knew about the master gear?”

“That’s impossible. Gravis is dead. Crushed, as I recall, under one of those big gears.”

“Yes. He is dead, but Lord Byron isn’t. He probably boasted about how he saved Drumindor by hiring two no-account thieves.”

“It still seems too perfect.” Hadrian tried to convince himself. “In retrospect, sure, it sounds like the pieces fall into place, but there are too many things that could have gone wrong along the way.”

“Right. That’s why he had someone on board the Storm making sure it all worked—Derning. Did you see the way he took off the moment we hit port? He knew what was coming and wanted to get away.”

“I should have let you kill him.”

Silence.

“You’re nodding, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t say a word.”

“Bastard,” Hadrian grumbled.

“You know the worst thing?”