“He wouldn’t listen.” Marcus pressed one hand into the other, listening to the knuckles pop.

“He didn’t believe you?”

“I don’t know if he believed me or not. But it doesn’t matter. The Ministry won’t help us.”

“But—” Andy shook her head, confused. “But then what do we do now?”

Our duty. “What Raesinia wanted to do all along. Go down to that warehouse and find out for ourselves.” Marcus gritted his teeth. “Every member of the Deputies can’t be as cowardly as Durenne. Once we splash this across the broadsheets, they’ll have to do something about it whether they want to or not.”

*   *   *

RAESINIA

Of late, Raesinia had been spending more time at Mrs. Felda’s church than Twin Turrets. She told Marcus this was because she needed to consult with Cora, but in truth she was more a hindrance than a help to the girl’s continuing efforts to pin down the web of false orders and missing documentation that outlined the missing gunpowder. Tracking to the warehouse had been simple enough, but finding out where it went from there was proving more difficult. Cora was still hoping to find a pattern in the records that would lead them to a suspect, but Raesinia wasn’t optimistic.

We have to go and see what they’re hiding. Marcus was determined to do things by the book, which meant trying to convince the army to launch an investigation. Raesinia wasn’t optimistic about that, either. Durenne would be a fool to provoke a confrontation, unless he wants to end up on the Spike. Backing Maurisk into a corner is too dangerous. But Marcus had refused to be persuaded. His naïveté can be sweet, when it’s not so annoying.

While the colonel had waited for his audience with his friend in the Ministry, therefore, Raesinia had stewed. She came to Mrs. Felda’s because there was always something for her to do, while at Twin Turrets there was only the watchful silence of the Mierantai guards and a trunk full of books she’d already read. Today Lieutenant Uhlan and Hayver were her escorts, both in plainclothes and armed with cudgels.

Mrs. Felda put them to work, as she did anyone who appeared to be the least bit idle. Raesinia wasn’t sure if she knew they were soldiers, but it wouldn’t have mattered; she was fairly certain that Mrs. Felda would still have conscripted her to fold laundry or stir pots even if she knew Raesinia was Queen of Vordan. Currently, Lieutenant Uhlan was carrying heavy sacks of provisions from the back door into the basement, while Hayver sewed up worn-out clothing. The boy had proven to be a dab hand with a needle.