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down to a steady stroll.

“Astor, explain why you have so much knowledge of suspension when you’ve been raised in a small fishing village a hundred leagues from the Academy.”

She remains silent. I look over my shoulder casually. It’s enough to get her talking.

“Meh… My father…” she starts, and stares at the ground while continuing her steady march. “I was fortunate enough to have one that loved me.” She looks up at me and quickly points her gaze back at her feet after seeing I’m still looking at her. A bold shot at me. She continues. “He spent his life working the Skooler—started as a deckhand and eventually worked his way toward master angler. When my mother passed, he didn’t know much about raising a child, spending his life on the Delta, so he sent me to the Academy. Cost him copper he earned on the boat and even then, it wasn’t enough. Now, Susy bless his soul, I’m doing my best to make use of it.”

“Was he the man I killed back at your house?” I ask nonchalantly. Part of me cares somewhere deep inside, but mostly I am numb to death and loss.

“No.”

No tears, anger, or sadness, so it seems. She’s probably had more loss in the past couple days than her entire life, which makes it probable all her emotions are boiling to the top and will soon explode, soaking us all in her misery.

“Nero Hawksfoot. He was as innocent a man as they come. He deserved more—”

I finish her thought for her. “And would have raised an alarm if I let him live.” I bring the caravan to a halt and turn to look her in the eyes. “They were necessary deaths. I should have killed you as well. But you fooled me. You told me Jaymes’s wounds were full of rot and contagion. You had me believing I needed you to prevent further infection, but she’s fine. Look at them. They don’t even bleed. She hasn’t needed you the slightest. So…I think it’s time for you to go.”

I pull my fukiya from its sleeve. She’s not worthy of dulling my blade. A lethal dart will suffice. Much cleaner. I put the blowgun to my mouth. Suddenly, a dull thud sounds, and Jaymes is no longer on her feet. I dismount Persia.

“Dammit, Jaymes! The first inclination of me offing your co-prisoner, and you faint. If this isn’t genuine, I will strap the end of your bindings to Persia and let her run amuck with both of you.”

Astor discounts my insensitivity and drops to Jaymes’s side. She places her hand firm against Jaymes’s chest, then shifts the back of her hand to her forehead. “You think this a coincidence?” She glowers at me. “She’s warm. And pale. Fever has taken her. We need water. Cold water. We also need a fire. I must sterilize some washcloths. These wounds need a cleansing. It seems my initial suspension of her lacerations isn’t complete. The infection must be deep.”

“No.” My response is flat.

Astor’s eyes flare. “No? She’ll die!” She tactically flinches without me even making a move to hit her.

“No,” I repeat. “You’re jumping to conclusions.”

“It’s obvious,” Astor replies and cowers again.

“It’s not obvious. She was bitten. A death adder, perhaps. They’re prominent around here and easy to miss, especially when you’re squatting to do your business.”

“Wh-what do we do?”

“Roll her over. I need to see the bite.”

“If she wakes…” Astor trails off and rolls Jaymes’s relaxed body onto her stomach with ease—she can’t weigh more than a small mutt.

“I thought you’ve already seen her naked. Don’t be shy. Just do it.”

Astor hesitantly tugs at Jay’s cutoff trousers, baring her cheeks to the world, and pierces my ears with an intense shriek.

“What is it?” I ask abruptly, more annoyed than startled.

She jumps away from Jaymes’s body, but with her legs tucked she falls backward instead, and shuffles away with haste. Her finger points at something. An arachnid the size of an outstretched hand falls out onto the ground. “Oh dear. It’s huge!”

“I bet the local fishermen hear that often from your tongue.”

“What?”

Dumb bitch. So innocent. “That’s the reason she’s unconscious. Likely got caught in her trousers as she was pulling them up. Squished, but not before its fangs got a taste of her flesh. It’s a sol spider.”

There are a couple small punctures finger-width apart on her right cheek. The flesh is rosy with dark veins sprouting from it like a tree root fortifying its hold.

“Well…I can put her out of her misery now,” I suggest.

“But you don’t know if it was the spider that bit her. You’re jumping to conclusions.” Astor gets back on her knees and leans in to inspect the punctures. She nods in agreement.

Everything about her annoys me. She is so passionate and opinionated and lets her emotions run wild. Does she not have any self-control?

“True,” I say coldly, implying I don’t care if she dies. But I do. The Taoiseach would turn me into a pile of rot the same as the General. And I’d like to uncover her potential. But if Jaymes does die, I can rid myself of this obnoxious blonde twat as well.

“You’re heartless. If you can tell me what to do, I’ll do it.”

I roll my eyes.

“I know you’ve chosen a darker path, but it’s never too late to correct your actions. I choose to save lives. And I’m going to be as thorough as I know how. What do I do?”

“There is nothing to do. We wait.” I observe her for a moment, enjoying the panic she’s experiencing from not being able to do anything. “You know… I know another control freak like you, but he would’ve just let her die and considered the situation controlled.”

“There has to be something we can do. What about

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