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“Does Oliver think Dawson is dangerous?”

Ella cleared her throat. “Yes, he said you should keep your distance. But…he also said Dawson is on a pretty tight leash from the council these days.”

Instead of keeping her distance, she was working with one of the most prolific assassins on a secret murder investigation.

“Speaking of Oliver…what’s going on between you two?” Mira was eager to direct the conversation toward something less murderous.

Ella grinned from ear to ear. “We went on a few dates.”

“You what?” She almost spit out her coffee, which would have been a shame because it was perhaps the best she had ever tasted. “How did you not tell me about this before?”

She waved a hand. “They weren’t proper dates. Just spontaneous get-togethers.”

“And…? How were your non-dates?”

Ella didn’t have to say a word. The answer was written all over her face. But she still described their dates in detail. How insightful Oliver was—and funny. How they just talked for hours and forgot the time. How effortless it was. And for a moment, Mira was just excited to see her friend this happy. For a moment, she thought, one day she, too, could be this happy again. But until then, she could try to pretend. Just like the people of Tallan did. She could polish her smile and hope nobody would detect the cracks below the surface.

When they left the café, Mira walked back through the woods. Snowflakes caught in her hair, and she wondered if what Oliver said was true. Was Dawson dangerous? What was his role during the war? There was one person who would know.

—

The Wielder Highmage sat in his office and didn’t look up from his text when she entered later that morning.

“Yes, Miss Winters?”

“What do you know about Dawson during the war?”

Obryn removed his glasses and levied one of his harsh looks at her. “And why would you assume to be allowed any of that information?”

“Because you made me work with a man I don’t even know and who quite possibly could be a war criminal.”

“I did not make you do anything, Miss Winters. You had a choice, and you chose to work with him. What he did or did not do during the war does not pertain to your mission. But may I impart a bit of wisdom to you?” He placed his glasses on a book and laced his long, ink-stained fingers together. “Do not get too close to him.”

What exactly was he warning her against?

The grandfather clock ticked in steady beats with her own heart. “Is he dangerous?” she finally asked.

“To you? No.”

She swallowed, worried about the answer to her next question. “Can he be dangerous?”

There was a pause.

“Exceptionally so.”

13

The shields around the Dawson estate only let her coin travel straight to the lab, but she didn’t want to send a scroll, alerting him that he was in possession of evidence from the crime scene. Knowing him, he would keep it just to spite her.

Hoping he wouldn’t notice her, she walked up the stairs to the main house. To her surprise, the door wasn’t locked, but she only made it a few feet farther when she spotted Dawson standing in the living room, anticipating her arrival.

“Sorry, I’m just here to pick up my—” Stunned, she stared at her jacket in his hand.

“How is your shoulder?”

“It’s fine. Barely feel it anymore.”

When she walked closer, her eyes fixed on her jacket, he pulled it away.