Before? But how could . . . Her gaze fell to the game board, the pieces scattered. Of course. Of course. If Nova was compromised . . . “You killed the Novan spies. But you kept my Zoe identity intact, didn’t you?”

“The important spies, yes. Enough to ensure they’d assign you to investigate as Zoe. I figured you’d have to bring me an impressive toy to maintain your cover, but that weapon?” He let out an awed breath. “A pleasant bonus that you solved Project Harpy for me. It really is magnificent.”

Eris stepped back to keep her distance from him.

“Now, your new friends were a surprise,” he said, circling her. “Nyx, Rhea, and the little one. They might have escaped if they hadn’t met up with you. I think I’ll take Rhea back after I punish her. She’s mine, after all.”

Eris felt sick. “You let us infiltrate the palace and find those files on Ismara, didn’t you?”

His eyes gleamed, as if he were proud of this, proud of outsmarting her in this competition they’d had since childhood. “Come on, Discordia.” He clicked his tongue. “You didn’t really think you all got this far without me letting you? Without the Oracle being tipped off?” Eris tried to hold back her flinch, but he saw it. “Oh, you did. That’s cute.”

Eris went still with dread as the trill of alarms sounded through the palace. Ariadne and Nyx were on the run. Could they make it?

<Eris?> Clo’s voice. <What the flume is going on?>

<Start the engine, Clo. Nyx and Ariadne are coming to you. Get out of here.>

“Where did you get your information?” Eris asked her brother. Was the Oracle just that deep? Had One infiltrated Novantae’s systems? Or was there someone in Nova giving him information?

“Not important,” Damocles said with a wave of his hand. “What’s important is that I have you, I have your weapon, and I have your intent to ignore the truce and slaughter the Evoli on record. Everything that happens now can be traced back to you and the Novantae.”

<Eris!> Clo again.

<Leave me here, Clo. I’m not going to let any of you die for me.>

<No. We can’t just—>

<Damn it, Clo, for once in your life, just listen to me!>

Eris dove for an antique vase. She grasped the handle, swung, and slammed it into Damocles’s face. His guards rushed her, their Mors raised. Eris dodged one blast. Two. She punched a guard in the jaw. Bones cracked beneath her fist, his nose gushed blood. The other launched himself at her, but she lashed out with her ring—one quick swipe across the neck. Dead, bleeding out on the floor.

Damocles was up. He swiped the blood from his face. “You’re still quick.”

“You’re still slow. Might as well call your other guards in and give me a real challenge.”