Storm says, “If Franco learns I am here, he will kill me.”
“Conde Eduardo has an Invierne spy working for him,” I say, as though sending the words aloud into the world will help me believe them. “Does the conde know that Franco is an Invierno?”
Storm shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“Why didn’t you tell me there was an Invierne spy in the employ of one of my own Quorum lords?”
“You didn’t ask. Also, I’ve been underground for more than a year. I didn’t know he had worked his way into the conde’s inner circle.”
“Have any others infiltrated my court?”
“Not that I know of. Your Majesty, you must let me go at the nearest port.”
The carriage lurches again, and I grab Hector’s knee instinctively. Storm’s gaze drops to my hand, and he allows himself a secret smile. I draw my hand back, curl it into a fist in my lap.
“If I let you go,” I tell him, “you would miss your chance to accompany us to the zafira. You won’t get another. Only someone who bears a living Godstone can navigate there, remember?”
He runs a hand through his golden hair, considering. Now that I’ve become a bit used to the odd color, I find it more beautiful than alarming. “You make a good point,” he admits.
“We could leave Storm behind,” Hector suggests, and his gaze on our companion is unwavering. “It might distract Franco, give us a chance to put some distance between us.”
That will never happen. I don’t care to show my hand to Eduardo or the Invierne spy by revealing that I’m harboring the former ambassador. But the alarm on the Invierno’s face is so satisfying that I pretend to consider it.
“If we left you behind, do you think you could get away?”
“No! Not if Franco sees me and recognizes me. He would stop at nothing to have me killed.”
“So it would be sufficient distraction. They would abandon us for a while to chase after you.”
He opens his mouth, closes it. I see the exact instant he recognizes that I’ve trapped him on purpose.
“This Franco. He must be very capable for you to be so frightened of him.”
Fury rolls off him in waves. He says, “Your Majesty, he is a trained assassin.”
I gasp. An Invierne assassin in my own palace all this time. In the employ of a Quorum lord. I never even suspected. What if he’s the one responsible for the attempts on my life? If so, he will surely try again.
I say to Storm, “I suppose you ought to stay hidden in the carriage. Like a frightened rabbit.”
He scowls.
“Don’t worry,” I add. “I’m sure I can find someone to keep you company.”
“I’d rather be alone.”
I turn my lips into what I hope is a decent approximation of his own smug grin. “I know.”
“You would do well to hide, too,” he says. “Franco is cunning and skilled. He is to murder what an animagus is to magic.”
“Oh.” I let my face fall into my hands, not caring that Storm will see and be amused. “Hector, we have to tell everyone about this.”
He reaches over and gives my knee a squeeze. “Yes,” he murmurs, and I close my eyes to savor the sensation.
When we break for the noon meal, I tell everyone else what I learned from Storm. No one is more surprised and terrified than decoy Elisa, who clings to Ximena’s arm with a white-knuckled grip. Her veil blurs her eyes and nose, and I’m relieved that I can’t see the fear sparking there, even more relieved that we cannot make eye contact. Because I’m terrified for her, too.
“I can take care of him,” Belén says. “Tonight. I’ll slip into his camp and put a dagger to his throat.”
“Storm said Franco is specially trained,” I remind him. “He might be your match.”
“I can take care of him,” Belén repeats.
I know what Belén can do. Cosmé once told me the story of how she watched from a ridge as he snuck into an Invierno scout camp, slit the throats of three of their warriors, and disappeared like fog. Should I send an assassin to kill an assassin? I know so little about Invierne. Is this Franco an anomaly of their world? Or does he come from a long tradition of elite selection and training, like my own Royal Guard? I must ask Storm about it before deciding.
Tristán says, “I’d like to change my vote.”
“Vote? What do you mean?” I ask.
“I think our company should split up,” he says. “At the next port, you and a few others should go off in search of the zafira without the rest of us. We’ll try to draw the assassin away. It’s an opportunity you shouldn’t pass up. They’ll eventually figure out what happened, but you could buy yourself days, even weeks, of safety.”