It felt as though he’d been fighting and running forever, struggling against his foes when he had the strength, fleeing more often. And where had it landed him? Trapped inside a temple, his secrecy fraying, his plans thwarted, enemies circling. He stared at his hand. The skin beneath was seared, blistered, but the fire in the lamp had gone out. He lifted his palm slowly, watching the smoke break apart on the light breeze. The others were exclaiming, but he set the sound aside, following the track of his thought. All this time, he’d been trying to guard himself, his few friends, his family. . . . He turned his hand over, stared at the livid red flesh across the palm. The truth was, he couldn’t protect anyone, not even himself. He’d failed at fighting. Failed at keeping his secrets. Failed at eluding Adiv and the Ishien both.

“Maybe it’s time to stop fighting,” he murmured, testing the idea aloud.

“What?” Triste asked.

He didn’t look up, staring instead at the lines in his scorched flesh, studying them as he considered the various pieces of a new plan, rotating them like stones in his mind until they fit, locking into place.

He turned to Gabril. “I need to meet the council again.”

The First Speaker frowned. “So soon? They will still be furious from tonight’s fiasco.”

“Not right away,” Kaden replied. “Three days. On my ground this time.”

Kiel raised his eyebrows. “Your ground?”

“The Shin chapterhouse,” Kaden said. “It’s neutral and discreet.”

“The Shin chapterhouse,” Kiel observed, “like this temple, will be watched by the Ishien.”

Kaden paused at that, forced himself to hesitate, to smile. “I know. But there are other ways in. The abbot explained them to me when I spoke with him. Passages underground.”

“Why risk these passages?” Gabril asked, shaking his head. “Why risk the place at all? I can secure another location easily, also neutral, one not watched by these foes of yours.”

“The meeting has to take place at the chapterhouse. I have to show the nobles something.”

Kiel studied him a moment. “The kenta.”

Kaden nodded.

“Why?” the Csestriim asked. “The gates have been your family’s secret since the founding of the empire.”

“It’s the empire we’re trying to replace,” Kaden observed, carried along by the momentum of his own lie. “Triste suggested offering the nobility something they can’t refuse, something in return for their participation in the republic. I intend to offer them the use of the kenta.”

“The gates would destroy them,” Kiel said, narrowing his eyes.

“They don’t know that. When they see me disappear, then return the same afternoon carrying fresh fruit from the markets of Olon, they’ll understand the power. They’ll sign whatever we put in front of them for a piece of it.”

“And when they discover you’ve lied to them?”