“It’s…nothing, really. You’re wonderful, too.” She sighed as if tired of hefting the world.

  Sydney’s heart went out to her. “I’m so sorry. You must be as worn out emotionally as I am, and I’ve only been thinking of myself. Come, let’s take a rest. Separately,” she added with a wink, “so we can be assured of…sleep. I’ll go to my chapterhouse if you’ll find a quiet corner, and we can clear our heads and meet again in a few hours.”

  Camille nodded hurriedly, still not meeting Sydney’s eyes, though Sydney had no idea what Camille should feel bad about. After another kiss on Camille’s cheek, Sydney strode away, grateful she had such a selfless companion.

  Out of Camille’s charming company, though, Sydney’s doubts raised their hydra-like heads again. Anger accompanied them this time at Sir Robert, at the Hawk, at the Kells. And only one of those was within reach. As the midday bells rang across the city, Sydney built up a furious stride as she reached the chapterhouse. It seemed the right time to do the brave thing and confront Sir Robert. Maybe that would finally put her heart at ease.

  She hailed various companions as she strode through the halls, but more and more of them seemed to be avoiding her eye, giving her a nod but not returning her friendly hellos. When Juzail, one of the recruits she’d commanded on the pirate ship, approached with an excited smile, she beamed, relieved that she hadn’t been transformed into a stranger who no one knew.

  She’d clearly been thinking of magic too often lately.

  “Major.” His handsome face was alight, brown eyes sparkling. “Isn’t it wonderful news?”

  Sydney shrugged. “It must be since you seem so delighted, Juzail, but I confess I don’t know which news you’re referring to. Did the lovely Delilah consent to step out with you?”

  He blinked, his grin slipping. “No, Major, the march. We march tomorrow.”

  Sydney almost asked where, but of course, she knew. Her time had run out. The knights were going to head for the border without a witch. They couldn’t afford to delay any longer. But why had no one told her? “I…” She tried to collect her rampaging thoughts. “I’d better get my gear together.”

  He nodded eagerly but stopped when Colonel Foster stepped up beside him and touched his arm. “Go about your duties, Recruit.”

  Juzail stiffened with a look of panic before nodding. “Colonel. Major.” He headed off almost at a sprint.

  “Excuse me, Colonel,” Sydney said as she made to step around. “I’ve just heard the news, and I—”

  “A moment, Major.” Foster smoothed her short gray hair and looked decidedly more uncomfortable than Sydney had ever seen, but her blue eyes were resolved as they bored into Sydney’s. “You won’t need to gather anything. You’re excused from this expedition.”

  The air went cold, and Sydney’s ears filled with a tinny sound. She felt her mouth moving, but all that emerged was a sound like, “Mwuh?” So many emotions shot through her, they left her hollow, and she felt like Camille’s card catalogue as she tried to sort through them and find one to land on.

  “I was just coming to find you,” Foster said, her tone not unsympathetic but with an edge that brooked no argument. “I’m sorry Recruit Juzail got your hopes up.” Her clap on the shoulder nearly toppled Sydney. “Sir Robert’s orders. You’re to remain here to continue the assignment he gave you.”

  Sydney fought a torrent of emotions. She wanted to tell Foster the truth but couldn’t manage it. She couldn’t even have said her name at that moment. It felt as if she was floating around the room, watching herself from the ceiling.

  Left behind. Out of the hardest, most difficult battles she’d ever heard of. Left out to search for the witch.

  Or was it that? Foster continued with her curious, appraising look, and when Sydney didn’t respond, her lip curled slightly. Derision? Sydney wasn’t used to such on the faces of her superiors. Even after her failure to catch the Hawk or hold the pirates, the other officers had clapped her back and said things like, “Never mind. You’ll get her next time.”

  But perhaps this was her real punishment, and if the other officers thought Sir Robert had lost faith in her…

  That was why he hadn’t told Sydney she was staying behind. That was what he wanted people to think so he didn’t have to explain that he wanted to use a witch, then betray her. Sydney had become part and parcel of his dirty little secret.

  She went even colder. Was it his plan to use the Hawk, trap or kill her, then blame that dishonor on Sydney?

  “By the flame,” Sydney whispered. She stumbled to the wall and sagged on it.

  Foster’s sneer grew a little before she said, “Never mind,” with a note of false cheer. “You’re sure to get in on the next one.” She hurried away, no doubt wanting to spare Sydney the further dishonor of weeping in front of a superior officer. Soon, everyone would either be ignoring her, sneering at her, or staring in pity.

  She had to talk to Sir Robert.

  Sydney began a march through the dormitory on her way to search the practice fields, when she saw a package waiting outside her door.

  A pity gift from another knight? With a snarl, she picked it up and carried it into her room before anyone could see it. She tore away the string and brown paper but paused when that left her with a heavy wooden box. “What in the seven bells?”

  When she opened the box, the lid fell from her nerveless fingers and thudded to the rug. Inside, nestled in a bed of velvet, was a perfect crystal sphere. She lifted it out and marveled at the weight, at what this could mean, before glancing around, afraid someone would see her through the wall.

  Holding a tool of magic.

  Sydney nearly jumped out of her boots when the sphere said, “We need to talk.”

  * * *

  Camille was overcome with guilt. She hoped all the sex made up for the fact that she was keeping information from Sydney. Not only did she know how to contact the Hawk, she’d already done it. Well, by proxy, anyway. All the “research” she and Sydney had been doing for the past three days was just a blind as Camille waited for the Hawk to decide what she wanted to do.

  And so, sex. Not that Camille hadn’t enjoyed it, but using it as a distraction made her feel even guiltier. She wasn’t sure exactly why; she didn’t really know Sydney, didn’t owe her anything. Still, Sydney had been honest with her about Sir Robert’s plans. She could have concealed that information or given her assignment with Camille to another knight. She didn’t owe Camille anything, but she’d confessed as soon as she’d found out, and even as Camille admired her honesty, here she was, betraying it.

  She hurried from the library. With her thoughts this chaotic, she couldn’t rest. To her luck, none of the librarians saw her leaving, so she didn’t have to answer any uncomfortable questions. With all the time she’d spent on Sydney, she was never going to get a good research assignment again. But that seemed the least of her problems.

  As the bells tolled for midafternoon, Camille turned three corners, nearly jogged through the market in Kingston’s grand square, then made another left into an alley and the door to a bookstore.

  Camille passed under the large wooden sign and opened the narrow door. She slipped inside sideways, avoiding the stack of books that half blocked the entry. Hetty always took in more strays than she sold, and she’d run out of places to put them long ago. Luckily, her grandfather had bought this store instead of renting it, so Hetty only had to spend her money on food and any other items she might need for survival.

  Not that Hetty paid attention to such mundane concerns.

  Shelves crowded the shop from floor to ceiling, and books overflowed onto the floor, leaving little trails through the shop that looked like animal footpaths through a forest. “Hetty?” Camille called.

  “In the back.”

  Camille sighed and began picking her way over and around stacks of books. Hetty was always in the back instead of up here trying to make some sense of this paper hoard. Camille feared that someday, she’d find Hetty buried under a leather-bound avalanche.

  An old desk stood next to another doorway that led to the kitchen. Camille only knew it was a desk because she’d excavated it one day. Strangers would see a fort made out of books. Camille would have loved it as a child.

  She pushed aside the curtain shielding the kitchen. Hetty sat at a table in front of a small, clear area. A teacup and book sat in front of her, and she looked up from reading as Camille came in. Hetty nodded sharply, and her glasses dropped from where they’d perched on her tightly curled gray hair. Her brown eyes seemed enormous behind the thick lenses, and she smiled widely.

  “Camille. Twice in one week.”

  “Have you heard from the witch?”

  Hetty put a finger to her lips before rising. She pushed past Camille and looked into the shop. “Not so loud. And don’t use the W word.”

  “No one else is here, Hetty.” Camille sat in a chair that only held one book, then stood as the pile on the table hid Hetty from view. “She’s taking too long.”

  “I had to wait to contact the watchmaker so it looked normal, then he had to contact…you-know-who…and we have to wait until—”

  “I’m tired of waiting. I’m tired of having to lie to my friend.”

  Hetty tilted her head and pursed her lips. “Your friend the knight.”

  “Don’t start.” She fought a jot of guilt.

  “Since when are we friends with the knights? They’re the reason the you-know-whos were all driven out to begin with.”

  “I know,” Camille said, unable to stop a sigh of exasperation. Hetty had been a friend of Camille’s mother and was also a distant cousin; she’d passed on her prejudices as well as a love of books.

  “Sydney is different from other knights,” Camille said. “She warned us in the first place, giving us time to warn the witch.” She held up a hand before Hetty could protest. “I’m sorry. The you-know-who.”

  “Oh, she’s different.” Hetty scoffed.

  “I’m not going to argue with you,” Camille said. All the guilt and worry and waiting had built up in her until she felt as if she was going to burst. She clenched her fists and repressed the urge to shout. When Hetty rubbed her shoulders, Camille jumped, then relaxed a bit.

  “My girl, you are tense,” Hetty said.

  “I should be,” Camille said, closing her eyes. “I met a knight who made me question everything I know about the knights, then she told me a secret that confirmed everything I know about the knights. Except it makes her different, too. And now I’m keeping a secret from her and intentionally misleading her, and even though I know I shouldn’t, I’ve been reading about battles with the Kells and freaking myself out.”

  “Nasty stuff.”

  “And they could destroy us whether the…you-know-who decides to help or not.”

  “She will,” Hetty said. “Abe said she always helps when she’s needed.”

  Camille stepped away so she could look Hetty in the eye. “Even when her own life is on the line?”

  Hetty shrugged. “I don’t know her, but Abe says she’s fearless.”

  “If I was her, I’d be tempted to drop a few spells on the knights for even planning to betray me.”

  Hetty smiled. “They wouldn’t be much use in fighting the Kells then.”

  “Well, now you know why I’m not a you-know-who.”

  Before Hetty could respond, a voice from beyond the curtain called, “Shop.”

  Hetty hurried out, and Camille peered out to see a small boy move nimbly around the piles of books to put a note in Hetty’s hand. He waited until she dropped a coin in his palm, then he scampered out.

  “You’re in luck,” Hetty said after she’d lifted up her glasses and read the note. “Abe has news.”

  Camille pushed the curtain aside so fast she nearly tore it down. “Well?”

  Hetty grinned. “The you-know-who is going to contact the knights, one in particular.” Her eyebrows shot up. “Your Sydney.”

  Camille’s stomach shrank. She’d been certain the Hawk would contact Sir Robert, not Sydney. “Is she going to tell Sydney that I knew about her the whole time, that I’ve been lying?” Camille suddenly thought of Sydney feeling betrayed not only by Sir Robert but by Camille as well. Her stomach churned. She couldn’t stand the idea of Sydney being beset on all sides by liars. If anyone was going to confess about what Camille knew, it should be her.

  Camille pushed past, knocking over several stacks of books. She squeezed out the door, and as soon as her feet hit the pavement, she ran.

  Chapter Five

  Sydney dropped to her bed at the sound of the Hawk’s voice coming from the crystal ball. Before she could even begin to ask questions, the Hawk said, “So, your leader, the bastion of honor and chivalry, plans to solicit my aid and then betray me. What’s he thinking? Exile? Imprisonment? Death?”

  Sydney’s mouth worked, but no sound came out except a breathy, “How—”

  “Exile would be tough,” the voice said while the crystal ball whirled with smoke, showing nothing but a human outline and eyes that glowed green. “I’m already living outside Kingston, and there’s nothing you can do to keep me out of Arnvild altogether.” She snorted a laugh. “Unless you’re going to employ a witch to cast a spell on me, but then you’ll have to betray them with another witch and then on into infinity. So, it’ll either be imprisonment or death.”

  Sydney took a deep breath. “I don’t want to do either.”

  “Hmm, much as I hate to admit it, that does correspond with what I’ve heard about you.”

  “You’ve heard about me?”

  After another of those jaded snorts, the haze in the ball cleared, revealing a woman who seemed much younger than anyone Sydney had pictured. They looked to be about the same age, in their early thirties. The Hawk had very fair skin, and her hair was a fascinating cascade of brown waves that reached past her shoulders with a streak of white at her right temple that was half-hidden by a barrette. Her eyes sparkled like emeralds, but her full lips drew Sydney’s eyes. They looked so…kissable.

  She’d never thought anything of the Hawk’s would look kissable.

  “Your Sir Robert has to know I’d be even harder to imprison than I would be to catch,” the Hawk said. “He’s going to order you to kill me.”

  Sydney wanted to deny it, but in her heart, she suspected the same thing, and it was against the knights’ code to speak a lie. “I think he’s going to blame the whole thing on me,” she blurted. She shut her mouth hurriedly, wondering why she’d even admit anything to this witch. It couldn’t just be the kissable lips. She’d often wondered if her pledge to tell the truth was more than a simple pledge, if it could be a geas of some sort, a spell compelling her, but she’d never tested it. She’d never been a liar, not even as a child. She could remember the one time she’d done it with perfect clarity. She’d been four and had lied about the amount of sweets she’d eaten; she’d been sick for days, both from the candy and the words.

  And look what years of telling the truth had gotten her. She now blurted things out to any woman with kissable lips.

  The Hawk stared with a considering expression. “That sounds about right. If the whole ‘recruit then kill’ scenario looks like it was your idea, his hands remain completely unstained.”

  “But he’d be telling a lie.” Sydney stood and clenched the ball, feeling heartfire roaring within her. She calmed it before it could smash this ball like it had the other one.

  The Hawk leaned close, eyes burning. “Are you in the chapterhouse?”

  “What…yes.”

  “Are there other people in the chapterhouse?”

  “I…yes. Why?”

  “Then go against the knightly grain, display some common sense, and keep your bloody voice down.” She said the last in a whispery sort of yell.

  Sydney tried to duplicate her tone. “We can’t lie, so he can’t tell everyone this is my idea. There’s your common sense.”

  The Hawk sighed. “You really are a child, aren’t you?”

  Sydney felt herself flush and breathed through it. Her heartfire was still too ready to burn. “We appear to be nearly the same age, madam.”

  With the lift of an eyebrow, the Hawk smiled. “Madam? Ah well, it’s better than you simply spitting ‘witch’ at me. There are ways around lying, Major, or haven’t you figured that out yet?”

  “I have, witch. One simply doesn’t speak.”

  “Oh,” the Hawk said, voice rising and taking on a mocking air. “Is that what one does? One can also tell half truths and drop hints until those around one draw the conclusions one wants them to.” After another sigh, her voice returned to normal. “He’s been the leader of your order a long time. He’d find a way.”

  “But that’s…” Sydney lowered her voice. “Completely dishonorable.”

  “Welcome to knighthood.”

  Now the heartfire really was burning. Sydney dropped the ball on her bed before flames engulfed her hand. She tried to recall all her training, but the lessons drowned in the crackle echoing through her skull.

  The Hawk leaned forward again, peering up from Sydney’s blankets. “Ooo. I’ve rarely gotten to see that in person. For destruction magic, it certainly is pretty.”

  “What?”

  A pointing finger solidified out of the smoke. “Your magic flame.”

  Sydney’s ire turned to confusion, then horror as she registered the Hawk’s words. She shook her head, trying to drown out the whole conversation. She couldn’t handle the idea that Sir Robert was dishonorable and that heartfire could be magic all in the same day. The Hawk didn’t seem kissable anymore. She looked cruel, her lips cocked in a mocking smile and her eyes pitiless.

  After a few deep breaths, Sydney calmed herself, and the fire dampened inside her. “Will you help the soldiers?”

  “Yes,” the Hawk said as she sat back. “To stop the Kells. And what will you do when the time comes to kill me?”

  “I won’t do it.”

  “Well, I want to believe you,” the Hawk said with another sneer. “But I will have measures in place to protect myself. I suppose when the time comes, and you fail to kill me, you can always tell Sir Robert that you tried but couldn’t get through my defenses.”