We hurried across Lost Ring Bridge. My intuition kept pricking me to turn here, then there, through narrow streets and pocket courtyards, into the maw of an alley, past windows that glowed with golden lamplight. My breath came quickly from our pace, but I didn’t dare slow down and risk losing whatever delicate thread I’d picked up. After what I’d seen and heard, I was more desperate to find Zaira than ever.

Finally, raised voices rang out not far ahead, one with Zaira’s unmistakable brashness. I exchanged glances with Marcello, and we broke into a run.

We burst into a small plaza in time to see a man broad as a tavern door knock Zaira to the ground. Five more stood by, their restless anger charging the air.

“Bloody demon,” one shouted as Zaira slowly raised herself off the flagstones. “Orthys will dice you into pieces for what you did!”

Hells. This was not how I’d hoped to find her.

“Stop!” Marcello called, drawing a rapier in one hand and a flintlock pistol in the other. “In the name of the doge’s Falconers!”

For lack of a better idea, I drew my dagger and stepped up beside him, trying to look dangerous in my plum velvet jacket. The word Exsolvo tickled my throat, but I swallowed it for now.

The men did not appear impressed. They spread out, drawing their own daggers, and a couple of pistols as well. One round mouth pointed directly at me. I tried to hold my dagger like Ciardha had taught me, despite the queasy flutter in my belly, planning where and how to strike once they came close enough. My flare locket might give us cover to escape, but I couldn’t use it until we had Zaira back.

“Well, Orthys was right,” the biggest one said, laughing. He had an odd scar across his cheek, with prongs like fingers. “They went and hooded the harpy. She was lying, boys. She can’t light a candle with her jess on.”

Zaira bolted, but one of the men grabbed her. She cursed and spat as he twisted her arms behind her back.

That left four to face Marcello and me. They advanced across the square, menace strung between them like a net.

“Unseal me, you moron!” Zaira screamed at me, struggling with useless frenzy. “Say the word, and I’ll burn them all down!”

“My lady, don’t,” Marcello hissed. “She can’t control it. And we can’t trust her.”

“Do it!” Zaira urged. “I’ll kill them all!”

The big one rounded on Zaira, his fists raised. “Shut up!”

Another in a leather cap shouted, “Don’t let them release her! Shoot her Falconer!”

My breath crystallized to ice in my lungs in one white instant.

The flintlock pointed at me fired.

Chapter Eleven

Two loud cracks hit my ears, echoes ricocheting off the walls around the square.