“Red,” Pedrón says at my back. “There may be hostages inside those townhomes.”

“That’s because they plan to take the whole city,” I tell him. “But there’s nothing we can do about it now. And none of it will matter if we don’t save the prince.”

Iván grabs Pedrón by the collar. “We’re the Royal Guard, not the City Guard. Our only job is to protect the prince. Got it?”

Pedrón swallows hard, but his back straightens with resolve. “Yes, sir.”

Ahead, Arturo has reached the gate, a giant arched portcullis with speared points that could crush a person’s head if it was ever lowered quickly.

“Do you think they’ll just let us in?” Iván asks. He’s as breathless as I am. Even though we’re well practiced running the walls, running uphill has made my thighs burn and my lungs ache.

“No. I don’t know. I still have Rosario’s letter. Maybe we can talk our way in?”

“What if we can’t?”

“We have to. We don’t have time to figure out something else.”

Iván and I sprint to catch up, dodging horses, ignoring the angry shouts of people accusing us of skipping the line.

“. . . out on maneuvers,” Arturo is saying to one of the palace watch officers. “We’ve just returned and are ready to report to the barracks.”

“You’re not reporting to the gala for duty?” the watch officer asks.

“No, we’re just first-year recruits. See? We don’t even have weapons.”

“She does,” says the officer as I come up behind Arturo. He indicates the small sword hanging from my hip.

“She’s the only one,” Arturo says. “Because she’s our squad leader.”

“It’s barely more than a toy,” I tell him. “A sign of my station more than a real weapon.”

The watch officer considers. My face flames. I just told a huge lie, straight out.

“Fine, go ahead,” he says, waving us through.

We dash into the plaza and step off to the side, out of the way of traffic.

“That was easier than I expected,” Arturo says.

“Too easy,” says Iván.

“They didn’t bother searching us for hidden weapons,” Pedrón says. “Don’t they always search for weapons on Deliverance Day?”

“Lords and ladies are allowed some small personal weapons,” I say. “You can even buy them here in the market stalls. But that was still too easy.”

“They aren’t even asking for invitations,” Arturo says. “I listened very closely. Two carriages ahead of us were allowed to drop off their passengers without any questions at all.”

“They want everyone here,” I say. “As many people as possible.”

“Why?” says Pedrón.

“I have no idea.” My brain races through the possibilities, none of them good. “But I don’t like it.”

“To the ballroom, yes?” Rito says.

“Yes. But first . . .” I put my hand on Rito’s shoulder and look him dead in the eye. “I need you to do something heroic.”

“Just me?” he says, his voice edging higher.

“I overheard those mercenaries saying they would attack when the bells ring. They’re waiting for a signal. If they never hear the signal—”