There’s a brief silence as Nush puts together my words. “You’re the Shidadi spy the emperor has been trying to capture.”

Disconcerting how quickly he figured that out.

“Where is the healer you travel with?” he asks.

“She’s in a safer place than this,” I say. “But there’s no need for us to be enemies. I know you have no love for the empire. I can help you get out of the quarantine.”

The Rovenni man snorts. “Help us? You’re locked in here just like we are. You have no weapons and no horse.”

“I can help in other ways. Not all weapons are made of wood and metal.”

“You Shidadi might have a fearsome reputation, but you think too highly of your skill if you think one man can make a difference.”

I wrack my brain. “My companion the healer has some...unconventional tools. She’ll be able to help you.” Prove me right, Zivah. “We also stole a Rovenni stallion from the palace stables. You can have him back.”

Nush’s fingers spasm around my wrist. “You have Natussa?”

“If that’s the name of the roan stallion the emperor forced you to sell to the army, then yes.”

A change comes over Nush at the mention of that horse. Now he looks at me as if I’m a bug to brush away, rather than a bug he wants to squish. “Say your friend can help us. That means we’ll be raising arms against the empire’s soldiers. We’d become fugitives.”

“You can’t avoid it,” I say. “Kiran’s already forced you to sell your breeding stock to the army, and you know he’s trying to sicken your people. Unless you want to hand over your life’s work and the legacy of your ancestors, you’ll have to start fighting him soon, whether you want to or not.”

Murmurs erupt around us again. I hadn’t realized that the others had come closer.

“Help never comes free,” says Nush. “What do you want from us in return?”

This I can answer. “Create enough of a distraction so Zivah and I can cross the river without being seen. Help us flee north to Monyar.”

Nush glances around at the others. Perhaps what he sees is encouraging, because he looks back at me. “Tell us more about what your healer friend can do.”

I clench my fists, my eyes fixed on the torchlight dancing far below my hiding place. It’s too dark and I’m too far above the plains to see the people involved, but it doesn’t look good. Slowly, the flames travel in a ragged line toward the city. Will they kill Dineas, or will they take him prisoner?