Marcello and Balos straightened, and Jerith stood, dusting powdered sugar off his hands. I clutched my flare locket. “Please tell me it’s nothing to do with Ardence.”

She barely glanced at me. “Nothing so dire. They found that smuggler. Orthys.”

The pastry tray clattered to the floor as Zaira shot to her feet. Scoundrel barked, shying from the noise.

“Why does that involve us?” Marcello asked warily. “They shouldn’t need magic to bring in a petty smuggler and his band.”

“They got the information from a captured member of Orthys’s crew.” From the colonel’s tone, I didn’t want to know what they’d done to get the man to talk. “He also told them Orthys has some magical surprises. Artifice traps on his hideout, alchemical poisons, a crew member or two with a touch of magic. We’ll need Falcons to deal with that.”

Marcello checked the flintlock and rapier at his belt. “All right. I’ll bring an artificer and an alchemist.”

“Antelles.” The colonel pointed to Jerith and Balos. “You go, too.”

Jerith saluted grimly. Balos put away his practice sword and started strapping on a real one.

“Take an artificer to deal with any traps you find. I’ll get a couple of squads ready to join you.” She strode out the way she had come, the door chiming again as it banged shut behind her.

Zaira’s knuckles showed white at her sides. “I’m going with you.”

Marcello shook his head. “You can’t go. We can’t risk you or Lady Amalia.”

Zaira rounded on him fiercely. “I’m not asking you, rat-sucking bootlicker. I’m telling you I’m going. You’re not taking down Orthys without me.”

“You’re not going anywhere without Lady Amalia,” Marcello snapped, “and she is staying here.”

All the anger and frustration that had been boiling inside me since talking to my mother crystallized into an icy resolve. “I’ll go,” I said.

Marcello whirled and stared at me as if I were mad. “My lady, you can’t be serious.”

“You do not tell me what I can and cannot do.” The voice that came out of my mouth shocked me with its hard-edged surety. I sounded like my mother.

Marcello stiffened. His posture and tone went formal and distant. “No, my lady. I do not. But I do command this military operation. I determine which forces to bring. And I’m not unleashing a fire warlock inside the city under any circumstances.” He bowed. “Good day.”

He left on the heels of his colonel. Jerith cast Zaira a sympathetic look, then took Balos’s hand and followed. The bell chimed with mocking good cheer.

Zaira looked ready to rip a hole through the Mews wall with her teeth. “Demon of Madness split your skull, you smug, poxy—”

“Zaira.” My cold, angry determination remained. I was sick of being obedient. “Let’s go.”