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“Try your Daradonian contacts, too,” Keil said. “Get us a clearer picture of the Hunters’ movements back at Capewell Manor.”

Lye nodded, then looked at Osana. “Can you tap into your Imperial Guard network?”

“I’ve only kept in contact with a handful since I left,” she said tightly. “Many are too fearful of Arun.” She looked at Keil, and her voice dropped. “Arun won’t want the citizens knowing that a Hunter slipped into Ansora on his watch. He could smother this news—and cut us off from any potential leads—if he finds out.”

Remembering that Osana had once spent a month as Arun’s apprentice and had quit the Guard after seeing how he worked, I knew her warning should be heeded.

Keil knew it, too, because he said somberly, “We’ll be careful.”

Osana nodded, her hair rings glimmering—all except one, whose waxy-white material was incongruous beside the others. I straightened at the sight of it, watching her more closely as she said, “I’ll increase security in the settlement’s northern sector.”

“The Hunter has no reason to go after the Daradonian refugees,” Goren said.

“The Hunters don’t need a reason,” she replied darkly. “They only need a blade.”

I was still shuddering as the others began gathering their weapons, all moving with new purpose. It was jarring, watching them come together with the same single-mindedness I’d witnessed during my kidnapping—as though I was peeking behind a stage curtain.

“I can take a shift at the settlement,” Dashiel said, then glanced toward Keil. “Unless you would prefer me to watch Alissa.”

“Watch me?” I asked, affronted. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“You sure about that?” Goren mumbled, earning my glare.

“I meant only to help keep you safe.” Dashiel lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe his brow. “If King Erik has sent a Hunter here looking for you—”

“He hasn’t,” I blurted, realizing the group must have assumed that Mara’s attack was Erik’s doing. I looked between them, determined to impress upon them what I knew to be the truth. “Erik didn’t send that Hunter.”

Lye raised a brow. “So she came to fetch you for the annual family reunion? Is it your turn to bring the pie?”

“Erik was in the process of killing the Hunters off when I escaped from Daradon,” I said, serious. “He wouldn’t trust them to bring me back.” I looked at Keil and lightly touched my hip bag. “No matter how desperate he was.”

Keil’s gaze followed my subtle gesture toward the compass. Then he gave a little nod. He believed me.

I looked at the others again. “The night I escaped Erik, I also escaped Briar Capewell, the head of the Hunters. She would’ve killed me if it hadn’t been for—” I broke off, not wanting to speak Garret’s name among the people who had once battered him. But Keil must have known what I’d been about to say, because he looked away, his jaw tensing with slight discomfort. “She must have somehow found out I’d made it to Ansora,” I continued, “and dispatched a Hunter to come after me.”

“For revenge?” Lye still looked unconvinced. “I don’t know, Lockpicker. Don’t they have enough targets in Daradon?”

“None so valuable,” Dashiel said quietly, his eyes glazed with thought. “If Erik has been killing his Hunters, perhaps they tracked you here not because of a personal vendetta, but because they require leverage against the king. If the Hunters have you, they can sell you back to him at any price they want.”

I went cold, my heart rate rising. Briar had already tried using me to save the Hunters. She’d first attempted to lure me into her service, and then she’d tried to frame me for the theft of the compass. But if she caught me now—and therefore also recaptured the compass—she would possess more leverage than she’d ever dreamed of having.

I’m not allowed to kill you, Mara had said. Because clearly, they’d needed me alive.

“As long as the Hunter keeps away until Banarrat,” Goren said, “you’re in the clear. After that, you’ll have the protection of the Gallery, and she won’t dare to touch you.”

Lye nodded in agreement. “The Hunters can’t afford to make an enemy of the empire, which is probably why she was sneaking around in the first place. She’s covering her tracks.”

“Not well enough.” Keil pushed off from the beam, his voice full of deep authority and an iron-hard determination. “We’ll get an artist to work off the Hunter’s description.” He added to Lye, “Distribute her image around the Coal Quarter, but tell your contacts not to engage. We can’t be sure that she came alone.”

“She did.”

The voice drifted from behind, and we turned to find Valeria at the threshold, her eyes fixed grimly on the mat. No—on the knife.

Mara’s knife.

The air thickened. With the lantern lights glaring fully upon her, Valeria’s scar appeared more prominent, that cruel, intentional welt drawing an inch too close to the eye.

I’m just dying for a slice of that pretty face, Mara had said. A terrible realization seized me.