Just a rat, she repeated to herself. After all, there were rats in the palace. Human and otherwise. Could be worse. Could be much, much worse.

But when the wind slammed a shutter against a building, Amon ripped his sword free in a heartbeat. When he’d identified the source of the noise, he rolled his eyes and stowed his blade away again, but kept his hand on the hilt.

As they neared Southbridge, Raisa glanced aside, into an alleyway where an unshuttered window splattered light on the wet pavement. She saw a flicker of movement, as if someone were walking parallel to them a block over. Now she watched, and down the next cross street she definitely saw someone slipping from shadow to shadow. And there! The same thing, on the other side.

Raisa’s heart began to hammer. “Someone’s following us,” she hissed, gripping Amon’s arm.

But this time he seemed unconcerned. “It’s all right,” he whispered back. “We’re almost to the bridge. Raggers won’t follow us into Southbridge.”

“But didn’t you say the Raggers just killed a half dozen Southies? In Southbridge?” she persisted, struggling to remember the gang names.

“Just stay close,” he murmured.

Raisa was annoyed at his muted reaction. “Amon Byrne! Did you hear me? We’re being followed! There’s two or three of them on either side of us. I’m sure of it.” Raisa groped under her cloak and drew her belt dagger.

Amon’s eyes widened. “Where did you get that?” he asked.

“At Demonai. It’s clanwork.”

“Well, put it away. You won’t need it.”

And then it hit her like a runaway horse cart, and she stopped dead in the street. “You know who’s following us, don’t you?” she said, swinging around to face him. “Don’t you? Who are they?”

“Who are who? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his gaze flicking to left and right.

“Who is it? The Guard?”

He adopted what he probably took for an innocent look, but Amon had always been a hopeless liar. “Why would the Guard be following us?”

“You there!” Raisa called. “Show yourselves! I command it!”

“Shhh,” Amon hissed a little frantically.

“Then tell me who they are.”

“Well.” He cleared his throat. “They’re…friends of mine. Cadets in my triple.”

As a corporal, he commanded a triple of nine guards.

“I told you, I—”

“They don’t know who you are.” Amon said. “I told them I needed to walk my sister to temple through Ragmarket and asked if they would provide escort. I said you were rather shy around young men, and so they should try and do it unobserved.”

Raisa could tell he was rather proud of the story he’d created.

“Your sister! How could they possibly believe I’m your sister? She’d make two of me.” Amon’s sister, Lydia, was near as tall as he was.

He flexed his hands nervously. “Well, you’re my other sister. The…ah…short, religious one. I told them you’d gone as a dedicate at a young age. “ Amon seemed to realize he wasn’t doing himself any good. “So, shall we…?”