On my eighth day of penitence, Odd signaled me during breakfast. Thank the Flea! At this point, I craved action. Any action other than staring at a window. Now I understood why some women had gone insane.

I caught Fydelia’s attention and raised my eyebrows. She kept her face neutral, but a spark flared behind her eyes. Game on.

Last time, last time, last time. I chanted the words in my mind to keep from screaming out loud. Reviewing the attack plan only lasted so long—it was imprinted in my brain at this point. I sneaked a few glances at the guards, earning a couple of whacks. Of the forty-eight inside the center area, only Odd and two of his men were on our side. That left forty-five.

I scanned for Jael, as well. She hadn’t returned since I’d last seen her, but she had to be up to something. After an eternity, the sun set. Needing my strength, I shoveled the wet paste into my mouth. At this point, even Quain’s squirrel soup would taste divine. Not that I’d tell him.

I joined the line heading to our tower with Fydelia and the ladies who had been chosen to carry out the attack. With my heart climbing up my throat, I followed the team.

The four guards of tower ten checked off penitents as the women showed them their bracelets. “...number four-three-seven. Number two-nine-one. Number six-zero-four. Number one-five-nine-five. Number— Oof!”

Fydelia and her team didn’t hesitate, striking so fast the men didn’t have time to grab their weapons. The team pounced and immobilized the men all in utter silence as I darted in and touched the napes of the guards’ necks, zapping them to ensure they’d stay knocked out for a few hours.

“Quick, drag them inside,” Fydelia ordered in a low voice. “Strip them. Joelle and Suzanne, change clothes, now.”

I raced around to the other towers, knocking out any guards that were still conscious and helped to subdue those who resisted. All the guards were locked inside the towers and stripped. Volunteers donned their uniforms.

Finding Melina in tower four, I gestured to her. “Stay close to me until I say so. Understand?”

With a gleam in her eyes, she nodded. “Thanks.”

“Save it for later.”

Odd helped at tower three. “The others?” he asked.

“So far, so good.” I zapped the man he had in a head lock. “Oh, and keep an eye out for Jael.”

“Jael’s here?”

“She was.” I explained about her visit as we headed for tower one.

Odd cursed an impressive and creative string of expletives. At tower one, the women had cornered Odd’s man. Blood dripped from a gash on his forehead.

“He’s with us,” I said, examining the cut. “Not deep, you’ll live.”

He glanced at the women surrounding us. A variety of fierce and determined expressions glared at him. “Are you sure?” he asked.