Nick smiled, and there was not a shred of humor in that grin.

Chapter 15

NICK TALKED FOR almost forty-five minutes. Sometimes I added things to clarify, sometimes Curran did. To say Nick didn’t sugarcoat things would be an understatement. In his two years undercover, he had been forced to see things and do things that violated the very core of who he was. He let his hate flow.

Adora sat quietly through it all, her face stoic. Sometimes she looked to me or Curran for confirmation. When he finished, she said, “Thank you.” I couldn’t tell if any of it made an impact.

Nick fixed me with his stare. “The Pack burned Nimrod’s base.”

The Order always had good intel. “Yes.”

“He isn’t going to let it slide.”

“No.”

“When and where?” Nick asked.

“At the Keep,” Curran said. “Direct assault with overwhelming force, as soon as the new magic wave hits. In daylight.”

“Blood is best viewed in daylight,” Nick said.

I nodded. “He wants the shapeshifters to see their relatives die in gory detail.”

“We could use help,” Curran said.

“We’ll be there,” Nick said. “As an independent force.”

“Thank you,” I told him.

“This doesn’t mean I like you,” he said.

“I don’t need you to like me, Nick. I need you to show up at the battlefield and kill as many of my father’s troops as you can.”

Nick smiled.

Outside Adora looked at me. “Did that man tell the truth?”

“Yes.”

“And your father, Sharrum? He lied?”

“Yes.”

“There is no heaven?”

“I don’t know if there is a heaven,” I said. “But I know that you won’t get there by serving my father. There are many different kinds of evil. Some people are evil because they like to cause pain. Some people are evil because they are selfish and care only about themselves. He is the worst kind of evil. He believes he knows how to bring about a better future, and, if he has to, he will pave the road to it with corpses of innocent people. He has no boundaries. There is nothing he won’t do to get his way.”

“What about you?” her eyes narrowed.

“I’m trying not to be evil. Sometimes I succeed. Sometimes I don’t.”

“So you’re like him?”

“Yes. When I didn’t kill you the first time, it was because I acted exactly like him.”

“But you saved me the second time, too?”

“Slavery is wrong, Adora. People should be free to make their own choices. They might be bad choices, but it doesn’t matter. I didn’t want you to die before you realized that there’s a whole life you could live on your own terms. You don’t have to take anyone’s orders. You are in charge of yourself. I broke my father’s hold on you. I’m responsible for you. I’ll try to help you as much as I can.”

“Because you feel guilty?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” Curran said.

She narrowed her eyes. “How do I know you and that man aren’t lying?”

“You don’t,” I said.

“You have to look at what everyone has to gain,” Curran said. “Kate says that Roland is an evil liar. Roland says that his blood is divine and will get you to the happy afterlife. One of them has to be lying. If we suppose that Roland is lying, what benefit does he derive from it?”

Adora frowned. “My loyalty.”

Curran nodded. “He gets to use you and your skills. And if you suppose that Kate is lying?”

“She derives no benefit,” Adora said. “If I believe her, I won’t serve her.”

“Yes. She has no incentive to lie. People go through the trouble of lying to get something they want. Kate doesn’t want anything from you, but she feels responsible for you. She wants you to have a life that’s your own.”

She pondered it. “I’ll follow you, Kate. I need to follow someone. It’s too much change all at once. But I’ll think. And I’ll find out more, so I can decide who’s lying. And if I decide not to follow you anymore, I will leave.”

“Fair enough,” I said.

“And I won’t call you Sharrim anymore, even in my head. You’re not my queen.”

“That’s fine.”

“And you will ask me if you want me to do something.”

“Will you please come with me to the Casino to impress the Masters of the Dead?”

“Yes,” Adora said. “Yes, I will.”

• • •

WE STOPPED BY the Guild next. Curran went to talk to the mercs and I made a beeline for Barabas’s office. Barabas had posted the sign-up sheet for the battle. There were seven names on it already. It was hanging between next week’s menu and the petition to add free weights to the training yard. There was a deep and meaningful life lesson about the nature of human existence in there somewhere, but I didn’t feel like looking for it.

“How are we going to pay them?” I asked.

“Battle spoils,” Barabas said.

I stared at him.

“It’s a time-honored tradition.” Barabas bared his teeth at me. You could almost see the mongoose under his skin.

“Can I talk to Christopher?” I asked.

“He’s his own man.”