Marcello turned a book over, peering at the title. “Castles, Fortifications, and Defensive Wards. Some of these might give him ideas for how to overcome the Empire’s protections.”

“So it’s not just the volcano.” Zaira poked a book as if expecting it to bite her. “Your Vaskandran friend went on a literary shopping spree to study up so he could make war on an Empire full of Falcons.”

“Some of this knowledge is dangerous.” Marcello picked up a copy of Death Magic: Lethal Alchemy and Mortal Artifice. “How much of this does he carry in his memory? Should we …” He swallowed. “Can we in good conscience let him take that memory across the border?”

“You mean assassinate him,” I said flatly.

“I volunteer.” Zaira raised her hand. “If there was ever a face I wanted to light on fire, it’s his.”

It was probably just as well I hadn’t told her he’d as much as admitted to hiring Orthys. “It’s not our job to assassinate people. We can report what happened to the doge and the Council, and if they want to have him killed before he reaches the border, they’ll do it.”

Marcello sighed and sank into a dining room chair. “I can’t see him settling down and causing us no more trouble. Much as I personally dislike the idea, I think the colonel would say this is our chance to make sure he isn’t a problem in the future.”

“I’m not sure my mother would agree.” I eyed the pile of dangerous books. “I don’t doubt we’ll hear more from Ruven. But killing him has consequences, too. His father wouldn’t be pleased. And Ruven is at least a known quantity. I understand him now, I think. If he dies, we have no idea who or what takes his place.”

“Nothing good.” Marcello rubbed his temples. “And Graces forbid the attempt fails, and he escapes, with that mind full of poisonous snakes fixed on vengeance.”

“So you’re going to let him go.” Zaira slouched into a chair, exhausted disgust in the lines of her limbs.

“Of course we are. We’re not murderers,” I said. “Whether the Council of Nine lets him go is another matter.”

“They’re definitely a bunch of murderers.” Zaira brightened. “Maybe they’ll put his head on a pike, as a warning to others. Then I could still set his face on fire.”

“You don’t like him much, do you?”

“Ugh, no.” She shuddered. “Besides, he was a bastard to Aleki.”

“I feel better with him out of the picture, at least.” Marcello started stacking the books neatly. “No more Vaskandran interference. Just home-grown Ardentine treachery.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s still got plenty of fingers in the Ardentine pie.” I dropped into the chair next to Marcello. “A shame you didn’t find the jess in his coach, Zaira.”

“It wasn’t there. I looked.”