“But I can be of value. And before you question my value, I do have value. You believe Mr. Peregrine has something to do with this, right? I can confront him.”
“Absolutely not.” Did the woman want to shave ten years from his life? “It would be too coincidental. We need a plan.”
“Not much we can do but wait for now,” Dagger said. “We have positioned scouts all over.”
“Well, I might not be big and scary,” Calliope pointed out. “But I am quite clever.”
Reaper barked out a laugh. “Well, then let’s hear this cleverness,petite souris.”
“Well, whoever plots against you has resorted to using me as well.” Her eyes met Maxen’s. “So to catch them, let’s set a trap.”
She sounded a touch too eager for his liking. “Like my brother said, we already have scouts. Nobody moves without us knowing.”
“But you can still set a up a thing of sorts and lure the enemy to you.”
Reaper chuckled. “Set up a thing of sorts. I like this plan.”
“I don’t like it.” Maxen held her gaze. Of course, this had crossed his mind, but no trap came without great risk, and after what happened to Serpent, he wasn’t prepared to expose any more of his family. “We don’t know who we are up against and already we have a man injured.”
“I’m not saying we do something elaborate,” she offered. “But we can try to use me to catch whoever sent that note to meet them here. Think about it, they might even already know I’m back at the tavern. What if we make them believe I’m being moved somewhere else?”
“Might work,” Dagger said thoughtfully.
Maxen wanted to argue. “I don’t like it.”
“Hate to say it,frère, but it’s not a bad idea. We might catch the enemy’s messenger. Perhaps even who betrayed us.”
Maxen dragged a hand down his face. “It’s not abadidea,” headmitted reluctantly, “but this plan relies on too much luck. What if no one takes the bait?”
“Then we lose nothing,” Calliope pointed out. “Except, perhaps, your patience.”
Knight snorted behind the bar.
Reaper gave a lazy nod. “She’s not wrong,frère. And no one’s saying she walks out the front door with a bloody sign around her neck. We can make it look like she’s being moved—carriage, decoy trunk, a bag or two—while the real mouse stays put.”
Dagger scratched his jaw, thoughtful. “We’ve got that carriage Drake bought gathering dust.”
Maxen looked at each of them, irritation a constant burn beneath his skin, jaw flexing. He hated that they were right. “And who exactly is meant to be in this decoy carriage?”
“I vote to do away with the decoy and just use me,” Calliope said.
“When hell is cast in ice.”
“Tighten the ship, remember?” she challenged.
That fire in her eyes—he didn’t know if it made him want to pull her closer or lock her in her bloody chamber.
Knight cleared his throat. “We could use Ben.”
Maxen turned. “The boy?”
“They’re about the same size. No one would know the difference unless they got close.”
Calliope stiffened beside him. “No.”
“It’s safer,” Dagger said. “Cleaner. We draw them out without risking her.”
“No,” she repeated. “What if they see past the ruse?”
