Danna trembles under my grip. Finally, the shake of his head changes to a nod. I move my hand slightly for him to gasp out, “Lei works on the east patrol now. Remember Lei?” Another fellow soldier, shipped to Tanapeg instead of Basea last I heard. “She said they’ve been sent to the prison district’s water turbines. She’s been complaining about her double shifts there for the past couple of days.”

The water turbines. My heart skips. I have a vague recollection of that area inside the prison district, where much of the city’s water power is generated.

“Why are they there instead of guarding the festival?” I demand. Beside us, the flare burns through the insides of the lock. Jeran looks down the hall in alarm as the sound of soldiers draws nearer.

Danna starts to cry again. “Please, Red, I didn’t mean anything back when they took you—”

I don’t have time for this. I tighten my grip against his face again until he squirms in discomfort. “Why are they there?” I repeat.

“A prisoner,” he gasps out through his sobs as I loosen my fingers slightly. “A prisoner—a new prisoner.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know! The Premier commanded it himself.”

The Premier commanded it himself.

That can only mean one person. The Premier must be moving Talin’s mother early.

“We have to go,” Jeran hisses at me. “Now.”

I seize Danna by the throat, then unfurl one of my wings with an agonizing scrape. The other voice rises to a fever pitch in my head.

You have to kill Danna now.

But I stare at him and cannot bring myself to do it. Every muscle in me screams in protest, and yet all I can see before me is my former patrol mate. I see his parents, with whom I’d shared plenty of dinners. His mother, smiling at me and offering me more food. His father, praising the crisp edges of my ironed uniform while he converses with my own father. His sister, hair braided, running around the table with my own sister.

The other voice hisses at me.

He had known your family so well, and yet he knew that when he didn’t speak for you, he would condemn them to punishment.

Does he remember all of that? Does it haunt him?

My hand loosens from his mouth in pity. Freed of my grip, he hesitates there like a trapped mouse.

Then he moves. A dagger is in his hand in an instant. I see it flash in the darkness. My hand comes up as he strikes at me, aiming for my throat.

But I don’t have to attack him. Without warning, someone’s hands close tight around Danna’s weapon-wielding fist and twists it sharply down. I hear the snap of bone, then the dagger is shoved hard into Danna’s own chest, all the way up to the hilt.

I look up and find myself staring into Aramin’s dark, glittering eyes as he lets Danna’s limp body slip to the floor.