He leaves the forger to the rotting façade of his fish stand and retraces his path back to the port archway. Daian turns over in his mind every word he extracted from Chew, examining them for any hidden truth or unintended information. It’s clear the assassins who went after Lexi were some of the “military conscripts” of whom Chew spoke. They could not, however, have been on the run. The attack on Lexi and Taru was not random, nor was it a simple robbery. They were sent.

Though he’d already suspected as much, this confirmed it.

None of that helps him locate Brio or whatever evidence Brio had collected. He needs to know whom Brio trusted outside of his Gen. His only thought is to return to the Spectrum. Records are kept of everyone pleaders call to testify before the Arbitration Council. Daian can cultivate a list of residents from the Bottoms who aided in Brio’s pleadings. If he can locate them, perhaps one of them will prove to be the person he’s seeking.

Daian puts the sea to his back and heads for the nearest sky carriage platform that will take him back to the Spectrum. He’s preparing to ascend the stairs when he sees the signaling fire lighting the sky above an alley several buildings from the corner on which he stands. The fire was created by powder, lit in a small mortar with a base the size and shape of a dinner plate designed to be placed on the ground.

Daian knows this because he wears a similar mortar and carries that powder in a pouch, both lashed to his belt.

It’s a signal from an Aegin in distress.

He breaks into a run, charging toward the source of the signal fire. He doesn’t spot any other Aegins answering the call; in fact, the area seems to be unusually bereft of green tunics. Daian ducks into the alley directly under the waning amber light of the signal fire, dagger upended in his knife hand.

He stops, chest heaving from the long sprint.

The alley is deserted.

Daian sees the mortar resting on the alley floor. Smoke is still spiraling in ghostly wisps from the tip of the barrel. He does not, however, see the Aegin who lit the powder.

“Your response was swift, Aegin,” Grath congratulates him.

Daian spins around to find his fellow acolyte instructor leaning casually in a back doorway, dagger sheathed in his baldric.

“Grath? What’s happening? Did you light the sky?”

Grath shakes his head.

“You did,” he informs Daian. “But I’m afraid we got here too late to save you.”