“You worry too much.” She laid a big, wet kiss on my forehead and shoved me away. With a keen eye toward the merchants’ tents, she wandered off, likely wondering who would be the most malleable clay in her hands.

“Kasha and I are going to get him a new blade and will keep track of Iltani.” Dagan pulled me close. Tucked my hair around my ears. “Then we’d better get back to our home and lock ourselves in.” He looked past me to the carts and the weapons and lowered his voice. “Do you think she’ll agree to send in the assassins, Arwia?”

“Perhaps.” Arwia’s long braid slipped down over her shoulder, and she winced when it brushed the stitches on her ear. “Though I’m not sure I’m the best person to sit on the throne if she does manage to oust him.”

“You’re stronger than you think, my friend.” I wasn’t sure I agreed with asking to kill a man outright, but as I’d lain there trying to sleep, tossing and turning, the logic of it was hard to deny.

That didn’t make it morally right.

I stood on tiptoe and kissed Dagan’s lips softly. “Stay with Iltani. Please.”

“Of course.” He rubbed his thumb over my chin. Kissed me once more. “You have my heart, Kammani.”

“And you, mine.”

Disgust filled Kasha’s face at our conversation, but Dagan clapped Kasha on the back with affection, issuing a final warning for me to be careful. Together, they trailed after Iltani. The warriors behind us split. Humusi and Higal debated, then with a scowl, Higal followed behind Dagan.

Although I felt a prickle of unease spidering into my scalp as we ascended the stairs, only part of it was because of the likelihood of a second assassination attempt. The other part was because there was a good chance we were all going to be facing an entirely new tomorrow, depending on what Sarratum Tabni said today.

The temple glowed in the morning sun. The goddess Linaza with her scorpion’s tail, wings stretched full and weightless from her back, was painted in vivid blue over the arched doorway. Ummi stood rigidly next to it, battle-axes in her belt, cropped black hair hanging from her helmet.

She opened her arms in the Linaza salute as we approached. “Sarratum Tabni prays. Do you have business with her?”

Tamping down my nerves, I bowed my head as Humusi edged past us and slipped inside. “We do. Will you let her know?”

“Of course. Wait here.”

She followed Humusi into the cool interior, where the queen sat on a narrow wooden bench, facing an altar piled high with gifts for the goddess: Talents falling out of baskets. Gold coins, beaded jewelry, fruits, and even sheaves of wheat.

“I suppose this is it, then.” The diminutive Arwia stood as tall as she possibly could, but her lips were trembling.

“What are you going to say?” I bit my thumbnail, then quickly dropped my hand.