“Kammani! Here!” Nanaea popped her head out of one chamber and motioned me across the hallway. The three of us ducked into a narrow pantry with shelves bearing casks of oils, nuts, and grains. The tang from baskets of overripe fruits filled the room, and assorted copper platters, bowls, and trays for serving gleamed with a high shine.

“This is perfect! Let’s get some food and get it up there, now.”

From the corridor, sandals slapped against sandstone bricks, and we ducked behind a barrel of wheat as the older boy thundered past the room with a burly guardsman. After several beats, they left, but another pair of guardsmen marched past as an entourage of servers scuttled by, carrying platters of food. One tray dipped and wavered on a servant’s arm, and a dish of almonds mixed with dried, honeyed dates fell to the floor and scattered.

“Watch what you’re doing, Sippar!” a boy servant screeched as the girl righted her tray and glanced fearfully at the mess on the floor. “Clean that up! And get back out to the cook and have her prepare another! These are for Lugal Uruku. He will not be happy with a delay.”

Squatting farther down, I gnawed on my thumbnail. Getting up to Uruku’s corridor was going to be a real problem. “There are too many people around.”

A clatter of guardsmen passing by the pantry doorway raised the hair on my neck, and I ducked.

“No one will notice me. I’ll blend in.” Iltani got a wicked gleam in her eye, flicked her tunic back from her thigh, and exposed the dagger. “One way or another, he will be dead on this day.”

My hair stood up on my head. “You’re just delivering the poison and then getting out of there. That’s it.”

“I’ll do what it takes.”

My heart sank. Because she absolutely would. And if he didn’t eat the food we laced, she’d plunge that dagger from her thigh into Uruku’s throat and be killed by the guardsmen herself.

There was only one thing to do.

“You’re not going up there. I am.” Voices sounded in the corridor, and we shrank from the noise.

“Kammani, why?” Nanaea asked, eyes round.

“Because I will follow the plan, and she will not.” I jabbed my shaking finger at Iltani’s chest.

“Dagan would murder me if I let you go.” Iltani frowned.

“Better to die at his hands than Uruku’s.”

She pinched me. “You listen to me. I am going—”

“In your own words, Iltani, shut up. I am doing this.” I stared at her hard until the smile melted off her face. But within seconds, she recovered.

“Fine, but if you die, I wash my hands of guilt and refuse to mourn you. I’m swearing it now.”

“That’s not even close to true.”

“But you can’t go up there dressed like that.” Nanaea ran her hand down my silken tunic. “Only servants and guardsmen are going up there.”

“Then make me a servant. I am, as Iltani said, plain. No one will remember me!”