I could feel my blood pressure rising. “For my own good.”

“Yes.” He paused. “So I can make sure no one else is following you.”

“Go jump off the Edge, Osan.”

He lifted his hands in exasperation. “Come on, I was only watching your back. It’s for your own protection.”

“Take me to her.”

“That’s not—”

“If she wants me to put my life on the line spying on Reverends, the least Rhyanon can do is talk to me.”

Osan hesitated, and then suggested, valiantly, “I can pass a message?”

I gave him a caustic look.

“Fine, but she’s not going to be pleased,” he grumbled.

I did not care. Osan led me on a winding route through Major West, past the greenhouses and around the Gardens. He moved quickly, but I noticed the way his eyes roved, his gaze shifting from street corner to alley to shaded doorway, ceaselessly vigilant. He seemed on edge.

Who does he think would follow me? I had done nothing to draw the Order’s attention. Not yet, anyway.

“Just up here,” he said.

Rhyanon’s home was at the border of Minor East. A modest property for a high-ranking Herald, single-storey and rough-plastered. The garden was wild, overrun by oleander and bougainvillea, carpets of nasturtiums. An old dog slept on the front steps; he raised his head as Osan opened the gate, and his tail wagged.

I remembered this place. The name-giving celebration, the sugary sweetness of Rhyanon’s gift. The dog sniffed my feet.

“A word of advice?” said Osan, resting his hand on the gate. “Don’t involve your friends in the Order’s business again.”

The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I leaned forward to knock on the front door, and when I spoke, my tone was perfectly controlled. “Why do you care anyway?”

“More people involved, more opportunities for mistakes. More opportunities for someone to get hurt. Think about it, all right?” He closed the gate and stepped back. “See you around, Just El.”

“Not if I see you first.”

The door opened.

Rhyanon wore a long green shirt and cotton pants. Her hair hung loose, which made her look less severe. Relaxed, she seemed almost pretty. Her features were soft and animated, and she had a distracted smile on her face, like she had been laughing a moment earlier.

The expression vanished the instant she saw me.

“What … what are you doing here?” she asked.

I folded my arms. “We need to talk.”

Rhyanon peered down the street. Osan had melted away, and we were alone in the evening twilight. “You couldn’t have waited? I was going to arrange a meeting for tomorrow.”

“You told me you needed information, and I risked my life to get it. Why would I wait?”

She was still flustered, grasping the edge of the door to block me from entering. “I do appreciate your efforts, but now isn’t the best time. You shouldn’t be here. Tomorrow—”