Raisa soft-footed it along the catwalk to the far end of the building. Whoever was stalking her knew she was up here. She either had to hide long enough for Amon to arrive, or find a way out and over the rooftops.

The catwalk trembled under her feet. He was coming. She’d better get out.

Raisa ducked into a side room, half full of boxes and bins. A pallid light leaked into the room from high overhead. There must be a window up here, she thought. She hoped it would be big enough to squeeze through.

Threading her way to the back, she stood her staff against the wall and began to climb, finding handholds where the mortar had cracked and chunks had fallen down, finding footholds on the unstable stack of crates. But when she reached the window, her heart plummeted. It was barred; of course it was, in this neighborhood.

She looked back toward the door. A tall dark silhouette filled the doorway, and Raisa froze, her feet braced against the stone wall, her back against the stacked boxes, holding her breath. And then it happened. A bit of mortar, dislodged by her foot, broke free and hit the floor below with a ping.

“Briar Rose? Is that you?” A familiar voice, with an upland accent.

She released a long breath of relief. It was Nightwalker. But…what was he doing here? Why hadn’t he answered her call? And where was Cat?

This wasn’t right. All of her instincts screamed danger. And if instinct weren’t enough, wolves milled and circled on the floor below. Her mind churned furiously. Nightwalker knew she was there—there was no way he’d overlook her. And it would be easy enough to get her down from her perch on the wall. Well…maybe not that easy.

She made a quick decision. “Nightwalker? Thank the Lady! I didn’t know it was you.”

Now she saw him standing below her, looking up, his face obscured in shadow. “Come down,” he said. “Before you fall.”

“I seem to be stuck,” she said. “I’m afraid to move. Amon and the others are on their way. Could you meet them and tell them to fetch a rope?”

She saw the flash of his teeth in the gloom, as if he found this ploy amusing. “Just let go,” he said, extending his arms. “Don’t worry. I’ll catch you.”

“Where’s Cat?” Raisa asked. “Didn’t you see her?”

“Your black-skinned maid?” He paused for a heartbeat. “Yes. I saw her.”

Raisa’s stomach clenched. Cat! Surely he wouldn’t…“She won’t trouble us,” Nightwalker said. “If she wakes at all, it won’t be soon. We have all the time we need.”

And Raisa knew, with a crushing certainty, what he intended to do.

Somehow, she managed to keep her voice steady when she said, “You’ve heard, then, that I intend to marry Hunts Alone?”