“War’s never necessary.”

“What if that war destroyed Falcrest?” Baru said.

“I’m sorry.” The Prince laughed. “I must have misheard you?”

“Would you go to war with Falcrest if I could guarantee your victory?”

The Prince Tau-indi Bosoka flinched as if snakebitten, and dropped the bundle they’d been holding. Glass and wine shattered at their feet to soak the cloth. “I know you,” they said, in a voice soaked like wet paper with fear. “I recognize the way you think. You’re Baru Cormorant. You’re the Imperial agent from Sieroch.”

“Yes,” Baru said, retreating a few paces away from the cliff, “yes, that’s me.…”

“You baited out the Coyote rebellion. You asked Duke Unuxekome to sail against Treatymont.”

“It wasn’t quite like that—”

“Did you do all that to draw Abdumasi Abd’s ships into the rebellion? Did you spark civil war in Aurdwynn only to justify a larger war between Falcrest and Oriati Mbo?” A terrible regal power galvanized their voice, galvanized, the word for the hardening of the muscle when seized or lightning-struck. “Did you do this? Tell me the truth! Were you dispatched by Falcrest to create cause for war?”

Baru wished that she had her mask. “Wait. Wait wait wait.” She held up her hands: now she wished for gloves. “I’m making you an offer, Your Federal Highness. I have access to the very highest levels of Imperial strategy. I can tell you anything you need to know to defeat them—”

“It’s already in you,” Tau-indi breathed, staring up at Baru in rapturous horror. They shrugged off their pack and dropped their bundles. Wonderful porcelain smashed on the rock. Wooden jars of precious stones tumbled into the sea. “The wound is in you. Oh, principles save us, it is growing now. I will have nothing to do with you.”

Swiftly they wheeled to Ulyu Xe. “Diver miss, please tell Faham that the situation has changed, and I can no longer protect him.”

“What do you mean?” Baru hissed. “Wait a moment—”

But the Prince had utterly blanked her out. “Tell Faham that despite his countermeasure he still has a mole in his station. Yesterday someone left a letter in the post addressed to Rear Admiral Juris Ormsment. I obtained a copy. It tells Ormsment that her quarry has gone to ground at the Morrow Ministry station here, on this very island. Ormsment landed yesterday. She has the letter by now.”

“What!” Baru shouted. “A mole? Who—is there any name, any sign—?”

Tau-indi seized Xe’s hands so fiercely that even the stoic diver winced. “I can’t protect you, do you understand? My people cannot allow the prisoners here to fall into the navy’s hands. You know too much that could drive your Parliament to war. Despite my protest, our Jackals are on their way to this island to take you all away.