Page 118 of Reaper Said Mine

“Or harvested from her body,” Vakka adds, because she has never believed comfort helps anyone think.

Krell pales under dark skin. “Possibly.”

I look toward the wall display showing the negotiation schedule. Theryki will arrive in forty minutes. Gobold is already there, no doubt complaining that everyone else is late because military men enjoy pretending punctuality is moral superiority. Wilcox requested a private clarification on security parameters and received a polite denial because I have no intention of giving any faction more pieces of the board until I know which ones are already covered in blood.

Ursa will be there too.

The thought moves through me like a blade drawn slowly from a sheath.

“She does not enter the chamber today,” I say.

Skahar sighs.

Vakka looks at the ceiling.

Krell suddenly finds courage in the worst possible direction. “Lord, she will object.”

“I did not ask whether she would enjoy it.”

Skahar’s cane taps twice. “Boy.”

I turn on him. “Choose wisely.”

“I have been choosing wisely since before your bones hardened. That is why I am old and you are merely loud.” He gestures toward the display. “You cannot build trust with one hand and cage her with the other because danger remembered her name.”

“She is being targeted.”

“Everyone in that chamber is being targeted. That is the nature of a negotiation worth sabotaging.”

“She is my jalshagar.”

“Yes,” Skahar says. “And if you turn that into an excuse to decide where she stands, you will lose the part of her that chose to stand beside you.”

The old bastard’s words strike too near the truth to kill him for them.

I bare my teeth at the map instead. “Then increase chamber security.”

“Already done,” Vakka says. “Quietly. Extra thermal sweeps, manual inspection of service panels, signal jammers under decorative shielding, and two plain-clothes teams positioned as maintenance. I also moved the refreshment table away from the delegate line.”

I look at her.

She shrugs. “Poison is traditional. I dislike tradition.”

“Good.”

Krell lifts another wafer. “There is more. One of Gobold’s junior aides requested an updated seating chart twenty minutes ago. The request was flagged because it came through an Alliance encryption key, but the phrasing did not match his prior communications.”

“Compromised key?” I ask.

“Likely.”

“Who was seated near the service entrance?”

Krell sends the chart to the display.

Ambassador Theryki.

Of course.