I realize that I have him backed against the fence, and I’m still driving like a madman. Neju’s sword, I need to take more care. “It’ll take more than warm-up exercises to lighten those brick feet of yours,” I grumble. Only after I say it do I realize I shouldn’t have.

Walgash stares, and then bursts out in a deep belly laugh. “He’s getting surly with age.”

It’s a good thing Walgash is so mild-mannered, but I shouldn’t have slipped like that. Still, I can’t help it. My body won’t let me forget I’m in enemy territory. My nerves are on edge and I can hardly sleep. I don’t know how long I can keep up this ruse, to pretend to be normal around Walgash and the others. And I don’t dare think about what they would do if they knew the truth.

After training, I claim a headache and slip off alone to walk the grounds. At least it’s easy to scout enemy territory when you’ve been living as one of them. I already know where the food stores are and where the equipment is. Now I just need a closer look to see how I can destroy them. The problem with my mission is that the numbers don’t work in my favor—me against a palace force of thousands just doesn’t look good. There’s only one way for one person to cause the damage we need, and that’s fire. I need oil, lots of it.

I find a quiet corner and whistle for Slicewing. She flies down immediately, but she’s agitated, hopping and ruffling her wings.

“Calm down,” I say. She squawks, and I toss her a piece of bread. “I’ll need your help soon. Can you do it, or have your brains been fried by all this sand?”

She ruffles her neck feathers and looks away. It’s strange how jumpy she is, but I can’t exactly go into the desert to figure out what’s rattled her. All I can do is give her some more bread and hope the problem sorts itself out.

It’s only at dinnertime when I learn what’s wrong.

“Did you hear the news?” says Masista over dinner. “They’ve arrested Commander Arxa’s daughter and the healer Zivah on suspicion of poisoning the emperor.”

I stop mid-bite as everyone around the table turns toward me. I was just with Zivah yesterday. How could this have happened?

“You know anything of this, Dineas?” Masista asks.

My mind races. I try not to look worried, but then I remember that I’m allowed to be worried, because the other Dineas cares about Zivah as well.

“I hadn’t heard,” I say. “What else do you know?”