Magnus couldn’t find his voice; Taran’s confession had managed to render him speechless. He concentrated on the market’s buzz and activity, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment.

When he opened them again, Taran was walking away from him through the crowd. He followed at a distance, considering the short conversation they’d had and feeling grateful that he hadn’t had to fight for his life today.

When they returned to the inn, Jonas was in the meeting hall, as if waiting for their arrival. He stood up from his seat and put down the book he’d been reading. Magnus noted with surprise it had been the same one about wine that he’d been reading.

“Taran, we need to talk,” Jonas said. “Out in the courtyard we won’t be overheard by prying ears. Felix is already there waiting. You too, your highness.”

Magnus cocked his head. “Me?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Now I’m deeply intrigued. Very well. Lead the way, rebel.”

Behind the inn was an outdoor space that the innkeeper and his wife referred to as the courtyard. Really, it was a patch of brown grass bordered by a small flower-and-vegetable garden and containing two animal pens—one of chickens and one of fat warlogs that chattered angrily at anyone who came close to them.

Magnus and Taran followed Jonas to where Felix stood in the far corner of the garden.

“We have information about Amara,” Jonas finally said. “She’s here in Paelsia.”

Magnus tried not to let any intrigue show in his expression. “Information from whom?”

“There are rebels everywhere, your highness.”

Magnus’s first impulse was to remind Jonas that most of his rebels were dead, but he chose to hold his tongue. “Very well. Where in Paelsia?”

“Chief Basilius’s compound.”

“And where precisely is that?”

“A day’s journey from here to the southeast. I’m surprised you don’t know, considering it is a major point on your father’s Blood Road.”

“Imperial Road,” Magnus corrected.

“Blood Road,” Jonas said again, gritting his teeth.

Magnus chose not to get into the subject of that road with a Paelsian, nor the subject of how it was constructed so quickly on the backs of Paelsian workers at his father’s command. No wonder the citizens of this kingdom were so welcoming to Amara. “And did this informant also tell you why she’s come here?”

“No.”

“It doesn’t matter why she’s here,” Felix said. “This is our chance.”

“To what?” Magnus asked. “Assassinate her?”

“That was the general idea.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Jonas said, glaring at his friend.

“Killing one empress doesn’t change the fact that my father gave this kingdom to her family. That her soldiers are everywhere like green splotches of mud. What about Ashur? You bring him here as if you trust him, yet we don’t know what his plan is.”

“Ashur is a problem, I admit it,” Jonas said. “I have Nic keeping an eye on him, reporting any unusual behavior.”

“Oh, yes.” Magnus crossed his arms. “That should turn out just fine. So you”—he addressed Felix—“want to kill her. And you”—to Jonas—“want to wait and see.” He nodded. “Excellent decisions all around. I can’t imagine Amara will stand a chance against this alliance.”

Jonas blinked. “Taran, weren’t you planning on killing him?”

“I was.”

“I’m beginning to warm up to that possibility again.”

“Clearly,” Magnus began, “if we know Amara’s location, the best course of action is to send scouts to gather more information about her current plans, why she’s here, and where she’s hidden the water Kindred.”

Taran groaned. “I hate the fact that I agree with him, but I do. I can go. There’s no reason I should stay here with nothing to do but stare at the walls.”

“I’ll go too,” Felix said eagerly.

Jonas gave Felix a wary look. “You think you can handle that without doing anything reckless?”

“Absolutely not. But I still want to go.” Felix sighed. “I promise, we’ll scout for information. That’s all.”

Magnus would rather take action, like Felix, and simply wipe Amara from the face of the world, but he could see how information would be useful in the broader sense of two kingdoms at war. “Shall we tell Cleo about this? Or Cassian?”

“For now, no,” Jonas replied. “The fewer who know, the better.”

Magnus didn’t like the thought of keeping this from Cleo, but he couldn’t fault Jonas’s logic.

“Fair enough. We’ll keep it between the four of us.”

Jonas nodded. “Then it’s settled. Taran and Felix will leave tomorrow at dawn.”

CHAPTER 17

CLEO

PAELSIA

“Have you seen Prince Ashur anywhere?” asked Nic.

Cleo looked up from the book about Chief Basilius’s life that she’d chosen from the shelf downstairs. Her thoughts were so scattered, she must’ve read the same page, which covered all five of his marriages, ten times.

Nic stood at the door of her private room. Enzo stood guard outside, her constant protector, but she’d made sure to tell him that Nic was not to be barred from interrupting her.