Next to me, Gatha clears her throat. “When you’re in the palace, Dineas, play it cautiously. Stay alive; lie low. Earn the empire’s trust. Find out their plans against us and how to stop them. Anything you give us will be helpful. Their codes, their strategies, the movements and habits of their leaders…”

Gatha never fails to stir my courage. “I won’t remember anything once the healer’s done with me,” I remind her.

“True, you’ll be wiped blank,” says Gatha. “But I suspect part of you will still remember my orders, even if you don’t know it.”

The light in Zivah’s cottage flickers out. A few moments later, she steps through the door. She carries a small pack over her shoulders, and I’m relieved to see that she’s traded her dress for a man’s tunic and trousers. It’s too dark to see her face.

“Ready to go?” I ask.

Her nod is so slight I could well have imagined it.

We leave without fanfare—we simply start walking, and I lead the way south. The trails are too crooked for quick going, even though we’ve packed light. All I have is one change of clothes and my weapons. My crows fly along behind me, since Gatha thought it better for them to come to the capital with us.

Zivah travels with a snake curled around her upper arm and several tiny cages of insects hanging from her pack. Despite the venomous pets, the healer’s not as bad a traveling companion as I’d feared. She doesn’t talk much at all, and she matches my pace without complaining. Soon after sunrise, the bamboo groves start thinning, the ground begins to slope downward, and the air takes on a heavier feel. A short while later, I smell the sea breeze, and the dark waters of the Monyar Strait come into view. The water looks calm, which is a good thing, because no ferry captain who gets a good look at Zivah will have anything to do with us.

“I’ll see about a boat,” I tell Zivah.

The pier is a short distance downhill, along with the ferryman’s hut, an Amparan messenger’s stable, and a smattering of vendor stalls. The smell of freshly fried fish makes my mouth water, but I go past that stall to the boatmonger, who’s got several vessels sunning on the sand. An older rowboat catches my eye. The wood is aged, but sturdy and heavy enough to cut through the waves.

“How much for this?”

“Seventy telans.”

Fair price. I must not look rich enough to cheat. Still, it’s more money than I’ve spent in a long time. I dig out some coins from the stash Tal gave me, then drag the boat down to the beach. When Zivah joins me, I see she’s put on a wide-brimmed hat to shield her face from onlookers.