“I only have a few minutes or so.” Her clipped Kemet accent, usually so robust, was as thin as one of Nanaea’s threads. Her once-square shoulders were curved. Her deep brown eyes, which used to sparkle, were dim with gloom.

“Assata!” Nanaea pulled her into an embrace, her eyes tearing up.

“Healer’s Daughter,” the older woman murmured.

“We saw Irra.” Nanaea’s eyes glistened. “On the wall.”

Assata swallowed roughly. “Alu is not the same city you left, I’m afraid. And Uruku’s punishment affects you and me most of all, young farmer.”

“Yes, I know. They took my ummum! Why? Is it because I left?”

Assata sighed. “Yes. And everyone noticed, Dagan. Shortly after you fled Alu, the young women of the wealthy class starting talking.”

Dagan’s face grew puzzled. “Why would they care about me?”

“Look at you!” She rubbed her forehead with a shaky hand. “You’re the most eligible husband for these women and you’ve suddenly disappeared? With no word? When you have great wealth and even better prospects? It didn’t make sense. And the Palace watcher heard about you being missing, and told Gudanna that his charge, a little boy named Kasha who’d once belonged to Shalim the healer, was missing, too.”

My heart jumped and as if sensing it, Nanaea linked her arm through mine.

“And Gudanna, who is not a stupid woman and knew that Dagan was close to your family, Kammani, told Uruku that something was wrong.” Assata took a deep shuddering breath, her voice beginning to hitch. “So they cracked the seal upon Lugal Marus’s tomb in secret.”

“Just as we figured.” I pressed my lips together so tightly they hurt.

Assata’s face went grim. “When they discovered that it was empty, save for Lugal Marus, they sealed the tomb again and quietly went to the two places they could go to find out what happened.”

“My farm,” Dagan said hoarsely.

“And to your tavern,” I supplied. It only made sense. Everyone knew to go to Assata’s Tavern if you wanted to hear the real story behind anything going on. She had connections and information. It was why we were there right now.

She closed her eyes, putting a trembling hand to her lips. “Yes.” Her voice cracked. “In the middle of the night.”

“What have they done, Assata?” Dagan’s chest began to heave. “What have they done to my ummum?”

For a moment, Assata didn’t speak, swallowing around the anguish clearly choking her.

“Uruku took your ummum, Dagan. And he took…my Warad. My son.” Her voice went high before it collapsed. She gasped out the rest around her tears.

“They killed Irra. Slaughtered him in our chamber. The place Warad was born. They killed him there on the floor when he couldn’t answer their questions about Arwia’s location, because he, of course, knew nothing. He never has known anything! I’m the one who sent you with provisions, not him! So they killed him with their sickleswords right in front of us even though I begged them to stop and told them we didn’t know where you were. And before I could get my own weapons, they took Warad away to the dungeon and I was called in to see Uruku. My son and your ummum are gone, and they will likely be dead before the new moon if we don’t do something.”