But it was not the same for Nasu and Assata. And why are they even here?

Nasu didn’t look good. He had been whipped bloody, matching Dagan stripe for stripe. His lashes wrapped around his shoulders in jagged red welts, even extending up across his jaw. But he wore defiance like a crown, jaw set, eyes hard, feet resolute.

Assata, on the other hand, looked strange. Almost as if she were severely injured, but…off. She limped and moaned, holding her hip, but if she were really injured on that side, she’d be limping the other way.

As I studied her, she caught my eye. And when she did, one eye closed in a wink so brief, I wouldn’t have caught it if I weren’t paying attention.

She is faking her injury.

But why?

Gudanna gestured to Nasu. “This one and the tavern wench were attempting a coup with several young women dressed as warriors, similar to the ones we found with you. The women killed some of our best guardsmen, but though a few of them escaped, the rest were dispatched to the Netherworld.”

My eyes welled as Gudanna prattled on, oblivious to the pain she was continuously bestowing upon us. “The tale this traitor guardsman spins about Nin Arwia is different than yours. He claims no knowledge of her current whereabouts, indicating she is alive. You’ve stated she died in childbirth. Who tells the truth?”

“The nin is likely dead!” Nasu’s voice was strained. “I didn’t know!”

Uruku frowned. He pivoted on one heel, taking in Dagan’s sagging, bloodied body with his shrewd eyes.

“I believe you to be more sensible than this blubbering twit behind me, Farmer. And if not you, your healer.” He waved in Iltani’s general direction. “Or whoever she is.”

Gudanna hoisted herself from her throne, her center of gravity off due to the growing baby. Holding her belly with one hand, she descended the stairs and walked toward us. Uruku weakly walked over to assist her. They stopped a few handsbreadths away.

“We know she is alive and wants to take over the city.” Gudanna pointed her finger at my chest. “Healer’s Daughter, if you have any good sense about you, tell us where she is or we will add Shiptu’s head to our collection on the wall.”

“I don’t know.” I met her eyes with the lie, hoping she’d buy what I was selling. “I swear it.”

Uruku waved her away with a thin arm. “No, no, no, we won’t add her head to the wall. It doesn’t do any good. We need the nin, which requires more finesse. Nobody cares about death by decapitation. It needs to be more personal.” Uruku’s eyes, too close together, focused narrowly on me. “Besides, what would be the sport in a quick dispatch? We will have a Trial of Ordeal and let the gods decide which one of them is telling the truth.”

He tipped his head after he said it, as if he were simply suggesting the obvious. We’re tired, so we should sleep. We’re dirty, so we should bathe. As if he weren’t about to punch the wind from my lungs. Knock the legs out from underneath us all.