By every dead damned god, Fie was sick of bartering for her right to exist. She stood to face him down. “And who in the twelve hells do you think Crows are? Someone else’s people? Someone else’s problem? Because you already made my oath with the rest of Sabor: you protect your people and set our laws, and we pay for your crown. That’s your oath as king. You just don’t want to keep it with Crows.”

He took a step back, shaken. “It’s—it’s not that simple—”

“I don’t get to look away from the throats I have to cut. Why should you?” Wrath roared in her ears. “You can’t even admit—”

Fie cut herself off. The ground trembled beneath her soles.

The shaking was more than wrath, more than hunger. When she whipped about, she found torchlight closing in on them from both sides of the road.

“Oleanders,” she whispered. Jasimir cursed and snatched up his pack, then froze. The torchlight was too near for Sparrow teeth to save them.

Wrath turned to sick panic. How had she missed it? How long had she been off the roads, running from being a Crow, that she’d foul up this bad?

Fie’s head scrambled for a plan. Pa would have known what to do—a Peacock illusion—no, no time—Phoenix teeth?

Flame couldn’t stop steel, though. Moreover, she carried every Phoenix tooth in Sabor. If she called on them now and even one Oleander made it out to report back to Rhusana … if they saw Jasimir unscathed by fire …

Her time ran dry.

Within heartbeats, the Oleander Gentry had them surrounded. A dozen or so riders, all armed, all on horseback, clogging both sides of the road.

She’d have to scrap another way out.

“Now this is odd, eh?” A man dismounted, the oleander blossom shivering on his breast as he angled a bronze-tipped spear at Jasimir. He wore a crude mask: just two eyes gouged in a pale leather rag. “Two bone thieves. Made enough noise that we thought you were a proper mess of the rats.”

Fie sucked in a breath, eyes darting about the road. Most of these Oleanders had cloaked themselves in undyed cotton and linen. No fine lords this time. Behind the riders lurked another half-dozen people on foot. Too many to take on herself.

“Look at this.” The ringleader strolled over to Fie and drew Tavin’s short sword from its scabbard at her side. “Little one’s gone and stole steel teeth.”

She had to get them out.

No, her Chief voice said. Just the prince.

If she bought the prince a chance to get away … she could sort herself out after.