“You think they’ve been replaced?” Iván says.

“They’ve definitely been replaced,” I say. “But I don’t know what Aldo has to do with it.”

Arturo is looking back and forth between us. “You’re saying the rest of the Guard might be poisoned? That’s why we’ve seen hardly anyone since lunch? I thought they’d left for the gala already.”

I turn back to the door and pound on it. “Aldo! This is your last chance. Let us out!”

“I can’t,” comes the muffled voice. “I’m sorry, Red. I really wish I didn’t have to do this. You’re my friends. If you just stay there and don’t make trouble, I promise this will all be over in a few hours and no one will get hurt. You’re all going to stay in the Guard.”

“You tried to poison us,” I say. “You don’t poison your friends!”

“It wasn’t going to be enough to kill you,” he protests. “Just knock you out. Like Valentino.”

Several of us gasp.

“Why did you poison Valentino?”

“He was too good. A favorite. Either you or I would have been cut if I hadn’t eliminated him. I did it to save us both.”

My ears ring, my face is hot as a desert, and my toe hurts from kicking the door. I liked Aldo. I thought he was my friend.

If I could get to him right now, I would stab him in the heart.

“We’re finally called up to do something real,” Rito says, staring at the door. “Something important, and we’re trapped.”

“Someone will come along,” Arturo says. “They’ll notice the door to the latrine is blocked and let us out, right?”

“Not if everyone has been knocked out by poison,” Rito says.

Iván gives me a questioning look. I nod agreement. Softly, so Aldo can’t hear through the door, he says, “We’re not trapped.”

“What do you mean?” says Pedrón.

I whisper, “When we’re certain Aldo has left, we’ll show you.”

Pedrón raises an eyebrow. Then he pounds on the door, yelling, “Aldo!”

No answer.

He tries again. Still no response.

“Pedrón, keep making noise,” I command quietly. “Everyone else, come this way.”

Pedrón does his job with enthusiasm, yelling and kicking. The others follow me toward the sconce in the wall. I give it a yank, and the section of wall slides away. “Inside, quick,” I say.

Iván grabs the torch and leads the way. The rest follow, their gazes rapt, their mouths hanging open.

“All right, Pedrón, your turn.”

He gives the door one last kick and follows everyone else into the secret tunnel. I’m the last to enter. I flip the lever so the door closes behind us.

“Now what?” Rito whispers. They’re all in a single-file line in the tight corridor. Pedrón’s shoulders brush the walls. If not for Iván’s torch, it would be too dark to see any of them.

“We have to reach the prince,” I say. “We move fast and quiet; some of these walls are thin. The passage will take us beneath the Sky Wing, near the entrance to the catacombs. Hopefully, we’ll be able to reach the prince from there. Iván, do you remember the way?”