Her eyes widened, then narrowed. “You heard him. He won’t have us with him. And your mamma wouldn’t let you chip your highborn nails in combat, either.”

“As it happens,” I said, “I am rather in the mood to do something my mother wouldn’t like. And as for Lieutenant Verdi, I’d never dream of interfering with his mission.” I smiled. “You and I are just going for a harmless stroll in the city. Isn’t that right?”

Zaira looked me up and down, as if judging how much she could get for my boots on the black market. “We’ll never get close enough to get any licks in on Orthys,” she said. “We don’t even know where he is. But all right.” She dusted sugar off her hands. “It beats sitting here waiting.”

“Where are we going?” I asked Zaira. I’d had my oarsman drop us off in a respectable market district not far from the Tallows, in case he reported back to La Contessa. Three bridges later, we’d reached a mazy neighborhood of chipped plaster with brick bones showing through, and laundry hanging between windows above the narrow streets. The foot traffic seemed mostly honest laborers heading home as the shadows lengthened; we weren’t near the more dubious precincts where I’d first met Zaira.

“The shipyards.” Her eyes skimmed everyone we passed, searching faces as if she hoped to find Orthys in disguise. “He’s not stupid. If there’s a search on for him, he’ll run to his ship. There’s no way he’ll stick around for a platoon of uniformed soldiers to arrest him.”

It made sense. My hopes we might actually find Orthys in time to help capture him lifted—and so did my trepidation. I had few skills applicable to a potentially deadly confrontation. Marcello had been right to leave us behind. This was a terrible mistake.

“Zaira …” I began.

She lifted a finger to her lips. Her stride remained smooth, but tension locked her shoulders.

“Be casual about it, but look behind you,” she murmured. “Do you see the man with the black cap?”

I glanced back. “No.”

“You’re as subtle as a bag of bricks, did you know that? I said to be casual about it. Now he’s bound to know we’ve noticed him.”

“That you’ve noticed him,” I replied, irked. “I didn’t see him.”

“That’s because you’re blind. Anyway, we’re being followed.”

I looked back again, instinctively.

“Grace of Mercy’s tits, woman!”

I flushed. “Sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

“You’re hopeless.” Zaira shook her head.