“Yeah.”

There was a pause. We rounded another column and passed by the reception desks, heading back across the floor.

“So . . .” Haken said.

“Go ahead and ask it.”

“Why’d you do it?”

“Do what?”

Haken gave me a look.

“I don’t know everything,” I said. “You’ll have to narrow down the question.”

“I talked to Slate,” Haken said. “He said that it was because of you that they found me.”

I grinned. “Slate must have loved having to admit that.”

“So . . . ?”

“So?”

“You could have led them somewhere else.”

“I could.”

“So why’d you do it?”

I walked for a little way before answering. “Maybe it helped me prove my innocence to the Keepers,” I said at last. “Maybe I didn’t see any profit in holding a grudge. Maybe it was some other reason.” I shrugged. “From your perspective, does it matter?”

“Maybe not,” Haken said. “All the same . . . I’m curious.”

“When Cerulean tried to shoot me, you had a split second to decide whether to try to kill me, or whether to try to stop me,” I said. “You tried to stop me. If you want a reason, you can go with that.”

“And I assume you’re not going to tell me how you went through that wall of fire or how you vanished off our senses.”

“Yup.”

We’d done nearly a full circuit of the Belfry, and as we turned the final column, Haken stopped. “Then just so you know,” he said. “Levistus isn’t going to forget this. Right now he’s going for that Senior Council seat. But sooner or later, once that’s done, he’s going to come after you. There won’t be any more threats or warnings. If I were you? I’d start working on an escape plan.”

I looked back at Haken for a second. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Yeah,” Haken said. “Good luck. You’ll need it.”

| | | | | | | | |

It was the next day when I stuck my head inside Caldera’s office. “You rang?”

“Yeah,” Caldera said. She was frowning at her computer. “Be with you in a sec.”

I crossed the room and sat in front of her desk, stretching out. To the right was the small workstation I’d been using. To the left was Haken’s half of the office. The desk looked a lot clearer than the last time I’d seen it. “Haken moved out?”

“Yes,” Caldera said without looking up. Her tone made it clear that she didn’t want to talk about it. I took the hint and stayed quiet.

The only noise in the office was Caldera’s fingers on the keys. She wasn’t a fast typist, and watching her, it struck me how awkward she looked sitting at a computer. Every time I’ve seen Caldera out in the field she’s looked confident and capable, but in front of a keyboard, she just looked out of place. At last Caldera took her hands off the keys and reached down to pull open a drawer. She took something out and set it down on the desk with a click. “Here.”