“There will be an uprising, and soon,” I say firmly. “Those Who Walk by Day are merely waiting for the death of General Lamarque.”

Corday’s mouth falls open. She recovers quickly but takes long strides to the table and points at me. “You—you are the one who paid us to kill Lamarque?” she exclaims.

Femi sighs loudly again.

“I paid in gold coin, and much more than your usual rate!” I say defensively.

“If I had known your plans, we would have refused the commission.”

“Lamarque has been ill for over a year,” I say reasonably. “His suffering is dreadful. Death the Endless will be a mercy to him.”

“So Lamarque dies—” Corday starts.

“And as he is a man of the people, his death is the sign the revolutionaries will use to begin their campaign,” I finish. “We control the hour of Lamarque’s death, we control the start of the revolution. People will take to the streets, protesting, fighting, and building barricades. The Flesh Guild will be so distracted, they won’t notice me sneaking in.”

“Even if you could distract them long enough to get in, you’re only a Thief, in a house full of Fleshers,” Corday points out. “You won’t survive three minutes in their Guild.”

“I will go with her,” Montparnasse answers from her side.

And I feel a wave of relief flood through me.

Corday stiffens; her gaze sears his face. He has no expression, no reaction. He asks no permission, not even from his Lady.

“And when she fails and you’re found in the Guild? It’ll be outright war,” Corday counters.

“When have I ever been found?” Montparnasse replies.

Corday turns back to fix her gaze on me.

But the atmosphere has changed. If there’s one person capable of entering the Guild, it’s Montparnasse. But there’s still only two of us, and the whole of the Guild of Flesh between us and the Tiger.

“I might have something else that can help your ascent to the monster’s lair,” the Fisherman says. “It will slow them down, but it will not stop them.”

I shake inwardly. Gifts mean debts, and debts must be repaid. But what choice do I have?

“The sons of Flesh at the Guild House number thirty to forty men at most,” Lady Komayd says. “They’re all exceptionally strong and violent; the Tiger keeps their numbers low, culling the weakest among them regularly.”

“You’re not painting us the most hopeful of pictures, Gayatri, dear,” the Fisherman says gently.

“They’re well armed, with guns, knives, and bludgeoning tools.”

“I’ll take care of that,” I say quietly.

“Nina, there’s one of you, and the Tiger’s Guild is armed to the teeth,” Femi points out.

“I’ll do what I can,” I say.

Femi frowns. He knows that fighting and disarming hordes of battle-ready bruisers is not one of my talents. He knows there’s something I’m not telling him.

“Let us for a minute entertain this wild folly and pretend that you have the luck of Rennart and succeed in removing the Tiger. You then wish us to attack his dens, subdue his men, and free the Sisters?” the Fisherman asks.