“I don’t want to believe it, either,” Amon admitted. “I like him. I can’t help it.” After a moment of deadly silence, he said, “Is it possible that he’s killing wizards for revenge, and telling himself he’s doing it in your service? Could he be justifying it that way?”

“No.”

The wizards’ throats were cut. And Han Alister is good with a knife. As are hundreds of gang members in Ragmarket. Including Cat Tyburn.

Raisa was in an argument with herself. She just wasn’t sure who was winning.

My queendom is the perfect place for an anarchist, Raisa thought. It is so easy to set people against each other. All it takes is a tiny spark to cause a conflagration. Even Han’s proposal to put Dancer on the council—could that be intended to push the council into violence? What if he intended to destroy the queendom that had taken so much from him?

No. I don’t believe it.

It seemed that everything Han did had a dual meaning, depending on what you were willing to believe about him.

“So. Now what?” Raisa said, feeling sick and weary. Wishing somebody else would be queen for a while.

“Alister can’t keep living next door to you,” Amon said. “It’s too risky.”

“We know that someone is out to kill me. At least Han seems to want to keep me alive.”

“Maybe,” Amon said. “For now, anyway.”

“What do you think is riskier?” Raisa said. “If Gavan Bayar is behind the attempts on my life, I’ll be defenseless without a wizard on my side. There’s nobody on the Wizard Council or the assembly I can trust.” She leaned into Amon, resting her head against him. After a moment’s hesitation, he slid his arm around her. “Maybe that’s the idea, to cast suspicion on Han, to isolate me, to make me vulnerable.”

“What about Cat Tyburn?” Amon said. “And Hayden Fire Dancer? If Alister is killing wizards, are they in on it?”

“Just stop it!” Raisa said. “Han Alister is not killing wizards.” She took Amon’s hand, pressed it between her two. “An army of bodyguards won’t keep me safe if someone is determined to kill me,” she said. “If everybody has responsibility for keeping me safe, nobody does. The solution here is political, not military.”

“Maybe,” Amon said. “But my job is to keep you alive so you have the chance to solve the political problems.”

Raisa said nothing. She stared straight ahead, her mind racing, weighing risk.

“What about Alister?” Amon said finally. “How soon can we move him? We can make up some excuse, and—”

“I don’t think we should,” Raisa interrupted.

Amon stiffened, dislodging her head from its resting place. “What?”