Micah fished under his cloak and brought out a small stoppered bottle filled with a purple liquid. A tiny copper cup was attached with a chain. He swirled the bottle to mix the contents, then pulled the stopper and poured.

“Here,” he said, handing the little cup to Raisa. “Drink up.”

She sniffed the brew unhappily. It had a sharp, sweet scent, like dessert wine. “What is this?”

“Something to keep you quiet until we leave, since my wizardly charms no longer seem to work on you.” When she scowled at him, he shrugged. “I’m not so foolish as to trust you, Raisa.”

“Why should I trust you? I don’t know what’s in that. Maybe you mean to poison me yourself.”

Micah rolled his eyes. “You’re not really in a position to dictate terms,” he said.

“What about the assassins downstairs?” she asked. “If this knocks me out, you’ll have your hands full, and I’ll be helpless.”

“I’ll handle them,” Micah said. “Now drink it before they come up looking for us.”

Seeing no way around it, Raisa drank the purple potion. It tasted like dessert wine too, with a bit of a bitter aftertaste. “Turtleweed?” she guessed.

Micah nodded. “Sorry. It does cause that nasty headache after.”

“Do you always carry turtleweed around with you?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t really needed it up till now.”

Turtleweed was fast-acting, and Raisa was a small person. It wasn’t long before her head began to swim. Wolves crowded in around her, as if trying to prop her up. She dug her fingers into their thick coats, trying to cling to consciousness.

Was Han waiting for her? Would he have gone to find her at the dorm?

No one knew where she was.

Would Amon be able to tell where she’d gone, and come after her?

“Don’t get any ideas while I’m asleep, Bayar,” she mumbled.

He sighed. “I can’t control what ideas I have,” he said. “But don’t worry, we’ll have a lifetime to carry them out.” He slid his arms under her, lifting her, covering her with his cloak. She felt woozy, loose-limbed, and floppy, and waves of sleepiness rolled over her. Micah’s heart thudded under her ear as they descended the stairs and pushed through the front doors.

Raisa tried to lift her head and look around, but couldn’t seem to find the strength. “Where are they? The assassins?”

“They’re already dead,” Micah whispered in her ear. “I killed them on my way up. Else I would have been there sooner.”

C H A P T E R  T H I R T Y - F O U R

SHOULDER
TAPS

Han waited at The Turtle and Fish an hour past their usual meeting time. Maybe she’s having trouble getting away, he thought. Maybe Corporal Byrne is keeping her to quarters.