Fiona stared at Han. Swallowed hard. Fingered her hair. And nodded. “No,” she whispered. “I won’t lose my nerve.”

C H A P T E R  S I X T E E N

LOOSE ENDS

When Han left the Smiling Dog, he took to the rooftops for a distance, making sure he wasn’t being followed. When he was certain of that, he descended to street level and made his way to Pilfer Alley and his warehouse lair.

As usual, Fire Dancer was in his foundry on the first floor, metal bits and fittings arrayed on the table in front of him. He was finishing an elaborate neck piece studded with opals, their dark hearts flaming in the sunlight that shafted through a skylight overhead.

Sarie Dobbs was huddled over a solitary game of nicks-and-bones in the corner. It was easy work, watching Fire Dancer, but it would turn to hard work if wizard assassins showed up to kill him.

Han stood over Sarie. “Have you seen anybody suspicious hanging around?” he asked. “Has anybody been asking questions about the flash-and-staff?”

Sarie blinked up at him. “Your gang sign is known all over the market and Southbridge. You wanted it that way, right?”

Well. He had. He just hadn’t planned on anyone lifting it.

Han dismissed Sarie with a flick of his hand, then crossed to Dancer and sat down opposite him.

Dancer’s hands stilled over his work. “Hunts Alone!” His eyes shifted to Sarie as she shuffled out. Then back to Han. “What’s the news? Are we still on for Thursday?”

Han nodded, poking through enameled beads with his forefinger. Worry sat sour in his stomach. Or maybe it was the stingo. “I’m going to stand for High Wizard,” he said.

“Really?” Dancer tilted his head. “Any chance you’ll win?”

“I don’t know,” Han confessed. “I’m trying to scrape up the votes, but I really have no idea if I’ll succeed.”

“I’m sure it will work out,” Dancer said, with the confidence of someone who didn’t have to make it happen.

“I spoke to the queen about my replacement, in case I’m actually voted in,” Han said. “I want someone I can count on, to have my back on the council.”

Dancer raised an eyebrow, mildly curious. “Who would that be? Are there any wizards you can really trust?”

Han took a deep breath and pulled Raisa’s writ out of his pocket. “I asked her to appoint you,” he said, tapping the paper on the tabletop.

“No,” Dancer said. “Find someone else.”

“I need that vote,” Han said. “As High Wizard, I only vote as a tiebreaker. If I’m replaced by someone in Bayar’s camp, I lose a vote.”

Dancer shook his head stubbornly. “Find somebody else.”

“Like you said, who else can I trust?”

Dancer gestured, taking in their surroundings. “I hate this.”

“This?”