I was not in the frame of mind to be threatened, but I was also exhausted. I raised fighting fists only to find one wrist grabbed by a large man, built and dressed like a longshoreman. He crowded me back towards the bunks.
“Harden brought me,” I said, jerking in his grasp, then forcing myself to relax a margin. This was one of Harden’s comrades. This was a mistake, and I had no patience or energy for a confrontation, let alone the repercussions.
I flicked a glance around, looking for the motherly Maggie, but she was absent.
The man squeezed my wrist, making my fingers shudder into claws and my anger spark. “Never heard of the bloke. Get over here, you fucking spy—”
The pain of his hold broke through my reservations. I executed a crude but nonetheless effective twist and snap which left my attacker staggering backwards with a dislocated elbow—past the stunned Harden.
“Right,” Harden said, stepping between the two of us and ushering me aside as Maggie reappeared to take charge ofthe now howling man. “That was Jasper. He is a bull-headed bastard and deserved that. Mag?”
“Got him,” Maggie said, prodding the half-crumpled Jasper back. Around us people stared, but activity continued.
Over by the laundry, the old woman absently rocked one of the bassinettes with a foot as the baby began to fuss.
Harden led me back to the bunks. I sank back down, feeling utterly drained.
“I’ve no desire to be dramatic,” I muttered to Harden. “But this is all rather much. Did you see those pamphlets?”
He gave a halfway nod. “We’ve been discussing them. They’re not the first, of course, but the city will be papered with this latest run by tonight. The Zealots have escalated.”
“I would have been the main feature,” I groaned, burying my face in my hands. Then, beset by sudden memory, I looked up again. “She was a Separatist. She told me, Incarnadine did. Did you know?”
Harden glanced across the room as if looking for someone, his expression inscrutable. “That’s… interesting.”
“Did you know?” I repeated.
“Ididn’t,” he said with emphasis. “But I am not the head of this operation.”
That raised the question of just what role he did play in the Separatists, besides smuggling, but there were too many other things on my mind to chase it just then.
“What about Lewis? Did you know he is in Harrow, with the Guild?”
Harden shook his head. “No. But he could’ve caught us, and he didn’t, so take that as you will. He let us go—met my eyes and all.”
I stared at Harden without really seeing him. “So, he may not have sold me out. Perhaps he just arrived, and was intercepted. I didn’t see him at Golden House.”
“Could be.” Harden shrugged. His expression shifted at my mention of Golden House, but he stayed on topic. “I’ll find him and sort this out.”
I refocused on the Separatist, rallying now that I had a purpose in sight. “I should do it.”
“No, right now you need to tell me everything,” he corrected. “I received your message, but it was vague.”
I frowned at him. “What message?”
“The mage who tried to Leech the life from me,” Harden said. “Called himself Wake and demanded I hand over that box you and Stoke brought in.”
I clapped my hands over my mouth. “Oh, no. Harden, I’m so sorry—”
“As I said, I got your message,” he cut in. He looked at me hard, not unkindly, but as if I were the piece of a puzzle that refused to click into place. “Good thing I didn’t believe he’d actually release you once he had the box.”
It was my turn to stare. “What?”
“I gave him the box, in exchange for your being let loose,” Harden clarified.
I shot to my feet. “Pardon me?”
Harden’s brows rose high. “What am I missing here?”
