Fear prickled through me, and I could feel Aaru’s tension at my side. He was doing his best not to stare around the room in awe; all of this was so different from his home on Idris.

We took to the rug-cushioned grand stairs, climbing higher and higher as we listened to the guests ahead of us complain about the imposition without actually complaining.

“My knees do not like stairs.” The man did his best to sound pleasant. “Of course, to be invited to the Red Hall is such an honor. I’m happy for the pain. It makes me think of the high magistrate and all he endures to keep us safe.”

The woman with him nodded in emphatic agreement, even as she clutched the banister so tightly her knuckles paled.

After five flights of stairs, we were ushered through a large glass door that led to the rooftop garden. It was a space big enough for a hundred people, though only sixty or so had arrived. Many held flutes of wine or plates of bread and soft cheese, taken from one of the long tables that sat on either side of the door. A house servant was stationed near each, ready with small paper napkins, and trays for empty plates and glasses.

The hum of soft conversation surrounded us as Aaru and I paused next to one of the potted palm trees that lorded over the garden, and both of us studied this first battleground.

1. Seventeen boxes—of orchids, lala flowers, bitter dawn trumpets, and other flowers I couldn’t identify—spilled riots of color across the garden. They were carefully pruned and maintained with the meticulousness of a proud Hartan gardener, but all I could see was how trapped they were.
2. An entire wing of dragons graced the tiled floor, bright and colorful mosaics against the dusky red background. Drakontos sol, rex, ignitus—if I looked, I’d probably find every species represented here.
3. When I looked up, I caught a spectacular view of the late-afternoon city, the buildings lit red with the hot glow from the sun. From this high, people on the streets seemed so small, and the ships in the harbor were toys.
4. Guards—five of them—stood watch from the walls. They carried swords and daggers, and their eyes were narrowed as they scanned the garden for trouble. Hoping for trouble, perhaps.
5. There was but one exit: the same glass door we’d come through.
6. Noorestones. The power of a dozen crystals brushed against my soul, welcoming.
7. So far, the only people here looked like Anaheran aristocracy, or upper-class society visiting from other islands. I saw a few familiar people, but no one seemed to recognize me; their eyes slid right across my fully exposed face because, although I was in the right context, they didn’t expect the tattoos and scar and harsh cosmetics.
8. If Nine was here, they weren’t obvious about being an imperial spy.

Aaru’s jaw was tight as he studied the other mourners, and abruptly, I saw what he saw.