“What do you think?” said Rand. “West wall?”
James thought over their options for escaping. Two sets of walls stood between them and freedom. They would either have to fight their way through two guarded gates or find some way to scale the walls. But now that the alarm had been sounded, guards were lighting torches and patrolling the perimeter. He tested his injured leg again and suppressed a grunt as pain lanced through his thigh. It would take him a while to climb in this condition. Rand and Bacchus had a decent chance of getting out if luck was on their side. With James in tow though, their odds became much more dire.
“I’ve got news that I couldn’t entrust to a messenger,” Bacchus said suddenly. “I followed up on the hunch you had about that lass. You were right about her—what she knows and what she can prove.”
“You mean Kyra?”
“I mean Darylene.”
James went completely still. He turned his gaze to Bacchus. “Are you sure?”
“One of my crew heard her confiding to a friend. Seems she’s suffering from a crisis of conscience.”
Rand snapped at them to be quiet. They fell silent as more Red Shields ran past.
“This is what we’ve been waiting for—if she can be convinced,” said James after they’d gone. “Have we got any leverage?”
“In’t that what your boyish charm is for?” said Bacchus.
James tuned out the shouts of guards around him, weighing the risks. Rand and Bacchus stood alert on either side of him. Neither interrupted his thoughts.
“Change of plan,” said James. “I talk to her now.”
Rand dusted off his hands. “To her quarters, then?”
“No, I go alone,” said James. “Her quarters are close by. I can get there fine, but I’ll need a diversion.”
Rand and Bacchus exchanged a look.
“You sure you’ve got your wits about you?” asked Bacchus.
“Aye,” he said. His tone left no room for argument.
Bacchus gave James a long, calculating look, then drew his dagger. “Well, Rand, I’ve always thought those ministers’ houses got too chilly in the winters. What do you say?”
“I’m in,” said Rand. He looked to James. “Good luck.”
“I’ll see you when it’s done.”
As Rand and Bacchus sprinted away, James crouched down behind the bushes and settled to wait. Now that he wasn’t moving, the chill from the air seeped into his bones, and he hoped Rand and Bacchus wouldn’t be long. Thankfully the alarm bells soon started ringing a new pattern, and new shouts arose on the grounds around him. Once the shouts moved into the distance, James gritted his teeth and made his way as quickly as he could.
James knocked on her door and claimed to be a member of the guard force. When the girl opened it a crack, he forced his way in and shut the door behind him, ensuring her silence with a hand over her mouth and a knife to her throat. She went rigid under his blade, though she didn’t weep or scream.
“I mean you no harm,” he said. “I wish to talk. You’ll want to hear me out, if you care for this city.”
Her eyes fixated on his face at the last few words, and some of the tension left her frame. He took a gamble and removed his hand, then slowly withdrew his dagger. The room they were in was not as opulent as its counterparts in the outer compound, but the furniture was well crafted, and fine blankets and silk pillows lay piled atop the bed. The girl straightened and smoothed out her gown, regathering her dignity as best she could.
“If you’re here to take a hostage, you’ll have to find someone the Palace actually cares about,” she said.
“You undervalue yourself. But I’m not here to take a hostage.”