After an hour or so, a metallic clicking sounded. It felt too soon for a check. Regardless, I climbed the bars as the noise continued. Once in position, I peered down the hall. Kynan’s cell door creaked open. What was he doing? Was he escaping? He approached my cell and stared at the blanket for a moment. Kneeling, he inserted a strange hooked tool and, after a series of ticks, the lock released.

My heart pulsed a warning and I stayed in place despite my burning arm muscles. Kynan exchanged the tool for a long metal shaft—not quite a blade but an...ice pick? Now would be an ideal time for the guard to return. Should I scream for help? So much for protective custody.

Kynan crept toward my bed. He probably believed I slept below. My arms shook. I wouldn’t last much longer. Sliding down without making a sound, I palmed a dart.

“Wake up, Yelena,” Kynan said. “I’ve a message for you.”

I didn’t wait for the message. Charging him, I jabbed the dart into his neck. He spun and lunged, aiming his weapon at my throat. I backpedaled. The goo-goo juice worked fast and he stumbled forward.

Kynan giggled. “Surprise!” His second lunge went wide.

I stepped in close, trapping his arm. Wrapping my hands around his wrist, I controlled his weapon as I hooked my heel behind his ankle and tripped him. He fell back and I landed on his chest. The pick clattered to the floor, but he made no move to reclaim it.

“Ah, darlin’, you just had to ask. I always grant last requests for a quick tumble.”

“You have a high opinion of yourself, don’t you?” I sat on his stomach and checked him for more weapons.

He grinned. “The ladies love me.”

“And your clients?”

“Happy. Happy. The Mosquito never fails.”

“Except this time.”

Kynan rubbed my arms. “The night is still young, darlin’.”

I knocked his hands away. “And you missed me the last time.”

“I never miss!”

“Is this your first attempt on my life?”

“Yup. Won’t be the last neither.”

So this was a separate attack from the one in the woods. Lovely. A number of questions bubbled, but I concentrated on the most important ones first.

“Who hired you?” I asked.

“Can’t tell. Big no-no.”

The question was too direct. I tried another tactic. “What was the message?”

He perked up. “How’s it feel to be at someone else’s mercy?”

Gesturing to my position on top of him, I said, “I’m not at your mercy.”

Kynan waved a hand. “Details. You’re like the rest of us now—slaves to the magicians.”

While it was a harsh view of Sitian society, I suspected he knew my secret. “Who told you this?”

“Client. He says you’re regular. Unremarkable. An easy mark. No—”

“I get it.” Just how far had the news about me spread? If it was common knowledge... Fear tingled along my skin. I drew in a breath. Kynan’s client must have learned it a while ago in order to send the assassin. He had to be close to the Sitian Council. “Did the Councilman learn about me from the Council?” I guessed.

“Yep. He gets a pile of gold for nuggets.”

I considered. “The Councilman isn’t your client.”

“Nope.”

But his client was bribing a Councilman. I took another guess. “Your client is a wealthy man who is very unhappy with the Sitian Council for not taking control of the magicians. After all, the magicians should work for us and not be setting the rules.”

Kynan’s mouth gaped open. “How did you know?”

“I had dinner with him last season.” I tsked. “He never gave me any indication he’d use such drastic measures to change things.”

“Yeah, that’s Bruns. He keeps his emotions in check.”

Bingo. And now for the clan name. “Which is a good thing. That’s how he made all his money.”

“Yeah, can’t go blabbing about your radical views when you’re a respected businessman.”

“And he has lots of clients. They all love his...”

“Designs! Man is a wizard with a gemstone.”

Aha. Bruns Jewelrose. I didn’t recognize the name, but I planned to make his acquaintance. Kynan stared at me in suspicion. The goo-goo juice must be wearing off and I doubted my hand-to-hand fighting techniques would be effective against a trained assassin. I pulled another dart and pricked him with Curare.

While under the influence of the drug, he could breathe and hear, but not move or speak. I emptied his pockets and picked up his weapon. It was shaped like an ice pick, but the metal shaft was hollow. He’d been aiming at my throat. If he’d pierced my jugular, would the shaft speed up the rate my blood would have gushed out? I’d have to ask Valek. I grabbed the device that opened the cell door.

Then I yanked my blanket off the bed and wrestled him up onto the metal so he lay on his side, facing the back wall. I drew up his legs so he looked shorter and closed his eyes before covering him with the blanket.

“Thanks for helping me escape,” I said.

Leaving my cell, I pulled the door shut. It locked with a click. Good. I entered Kynan’s cell and arranged his blanket like I’d done to mine earlier—smooth on top and hanging over the edge. I left, closing the door. Then I switched the lanterns, so the lit one was farther from the door into the jail.