Raesinia opened her mouth, but didn’t get the chance to speak, because Marcus grabbed her by one arm and pulled her hastily around the corner. She let out an undignified squeak as he pressed her against the wall and huddled beside her.

“What are you doing?” she hissed.

“Someone’s coming.”

“Would you stop acting like we’re trying to spring somebody from the Vendre? We’re supposed to act like we belong here.” Raesinia slipped free of his grasp and peeked around the corner. An old man in a leather apron was walking slowly down the corridor, humming tunelessly to himself. She pulled back before he noticed her. “Stay here.”

Marcus looked aggrieved but didn’t protest. Raesinia stepped away from the wall, backed up a little, and walked casually out into the junction with a distracted air, peering at the labels on the doors. When she saw the old man, she smiled, and he grinned back at her.

“Sorry,” she said, endeavoring to look sheepish. “I’m supposed to be looking for local shipping records, but I think I’m lost.”

“It does take a while to get used to the filing system,” the old man said agreeably. “Any particular product?”

“Gunpowder.” It was a risk to admit what they were looking for, lest it tip off their prey, but the conspiracy against her couldn’t include every random caretaker who happened by. “Stuff from the past few months.”

“You want PEX08,” he said. “It’s just around the corner that way. You’ve got the key?”

Raesinia nodded. “Thanks! Let me just collect my burden here.” She went back around the corner and grabbed Marcus by the arm.

“Look stuck-up,” she hissed at him, then led him back past the old man. To his credit, Marcus managed a very credible look of disdain as they went by. Raesinia raised her eyebrows theatrically, and the old man winked at her as he went past.

When he was out of earshot, Marcus looked down at her quizzically. “Stuck-up?”

“Best way to get on someone’s good side is to make it ‘me and you against the idiots.’ My guess is that the Exchange staff isn’t too pleased at having to live side by side with the army.”

“I’m glad I could serve as a convenient idiot,” Marcus said. “Now where are we going?”

“Right here.” Raesinia stopped in front of a door labeled PEX08. She tried the latch and as she’d expected, found it locked.

“Let me guess,” Marcus said, a faint smile on his face. “Sothe taught you to pick locks as well?”

“Nope.” Raesinia undid the buttons at her collar, opening her coat enough that she could reach down to the small of her back. From there, she removed the thin, flat metal bar that had been rubbing against her spine all morning. It was about two feet long, and tapered into a wedge at one end.