“Come, now,” Crow said. “Don’t be a coward. I used to possess you at least twice a week, and you’re none the worse for wear.”

“No,” Han said. He cast about for an alternative. “You can give me questions, and I’ll ask them and bring you the answers.”

Crow shook his head. “Not good enough. I want to see his face. I want to see his reactions. I don’t want it to pass through the filter of you. I’ve got to get to bottom of all this.”

“Sorry,” Han said. “I’m done being used.”

“I see. Well, being as you feel so strongly…” Crow shrugged, flicking imaginary dust from his coat. “Too bad. You’ll never find it on your own.”

“I don’t believe this. You’re saying you won’t help me because I won’t let you—”

“I need to speak with Lucas,” Crow said. “Those are the terms.”

Han liked Crow, was trusting him more and more, but…if Han accepted his proposal, Crow would be set loose on Gray Lady with the armory at his disposal and his enemies at hand. Could Crow—could anyone—resist the temptation to take revenge? It could be the Breaking all over again. Only, this time, Han would get the blame.

Still. There must be some way he could protect himself. “Let me think about it,” he said finally.

“Don’t think too long,” Crow said. “I thought I had time to negotiate with my enemies, and I’ve been paying the price ever since.”

“This isn’t the same situation,” Han said.

“Isn’t it?” Crow laughed bitterly. “You’ve already earned a slow, unpleasant death, from the Bayars’ point of view. I speak from experience when I tell you that if you go up against them, you had better be willing to do whatever it takes to win. And even that may not be enough.”

C H A P T E R  F O U R T E E N

QUEEN’S
ORDERS

Raisa shifted her shoulders, trying to relieve the tightness in her muscles. It was late—the middle of the night—and the script on the pages was blurring in the light of the one lamp she’d kept burning. Rain clattered against the shutters, and thunder reverberated from peak to peak.

Hanalea speaks, Raisa thought.

Despite all the noise, Cat had fallen into a twitchy sleep on the daybed, tossing and turning and muttering to herself.

Han was still out—no doubt walking the streets of Ragmarket, trying to tempt a killer. As a consequence, Raisa’s ears were fixed on the corridors outside. Every small sound distracted her. She wouldn’t rest easy until he was back safe.

Finally, she heard footsteps in the hallway, but it was Amon’s familiar voice outside her door, greeting the bluejackets posted there.