We waited at the front of the Lagos estate for the grooms to get our horses. Lira sent outriders ahead of us into the Industrial Quarter to ask about Arwen. Isla hung back, standing off to the side, her eyebrows furrowed in thought.

What had she learned about the curse? Did she know how to end it?

She refused to talk until we were away from Lagos eyes and ears.

Castille approached me with Dugan a few steps back, watching for eavesdroppers.

"My scars are itching about this job."

"You agreed we needed to move up the timetable and it was your idea to go to the Lagos brothers."

"Aye, I’m not disagreeing, but we know next to nothing about this Arwen or his cartel. I’ve been thinking-"

I sighed.

“This isn’t the time for cold feet.”

“Wait, let me-”

"Castille! I made the call. Now put some steel in your spine and follow through."

Dugan and Isla turned to look at us, wide-eyed shock on their faces.

I shouldn’t have snapped at her, but too much was on the line. Finnick was suspicious. Lady Kateen had almost killed me. And the near-death experience had knocked loose memories I didn’t want to understand. We needed a win. We needed to capture Arwen.

I forced myself to look at Castille, letting my eyes slowly pan up from her crossed arms to her face.

She was smiling!

The broad grin creased her grey eyes as she stared down at me.

“You’re growing a fine backbone. You’ll make someone very happy one day.”

I gave her a confused look.

What was she talking about? Why wasn’t she mad?

A moment later, the grooms returned with our horses. Lira followed behind, mounted with two other guards.

"Couldn't stay away?" Castille asked.

The olive-skinned woman's face flushed a deep red. She sat straighter in her saddle in a fight for her dignity.

"It's better if I come to coordinate. I know the guards, and they’ll listen to me."

Isla walked up to her horse, her face a mask of forced neutrality in the guards' presence.

I nodded to Lira.

"Lead the way."

# # #

We entered the Industrial Quarter through a narrow back street, dismounting our horses to walk in a single file. Lira led in the front, followed by me, Castille, Isla, Dugan and the two other guards.

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

My muscles tensed, preparing for another ambush, waiting for Finnick to make good on his word. Would the guards attack us from behind, or did Lira send her runners ahead to prepare a trap? My eyes narrowed on that swaying braid in front of me. Those soundless steps told me she was no ordinary cutthroat. There were other signs as well. She was too well-spoken, too clean and too pretty. Years of working with two Dahlgeshi in Luskaine’s underworld should have left scars. Where were they?

I sighed.

Focus.

I couldn’t afford to get distracted. Our surroundings were distracting enough. The air rang with metal hammering against anvils. The furnaces and forges dotting the Quarter clogged the atmosphere with smoke from burning coal. The smell of rotten eggs mingled with the smoke—sulphur, a byproduct of smelting.

At the lip of the alley, a young guard in leather armour too big for him ran up to meet Lira. He whispered in her ear. She nodded and gestured him away.

"Lira?"

"One of the patrols caught sight of Arwen. This way."

Lira led us to a main street in the Quarter, where four Lagos guards loitered at the side of the intersection. When they caught sight of us, the oldest of them walked over to Lira. He whispered in her ear, gesturing around the corner. Lira patted the guard on the arm and turned back to us.

"Arwen went into an old foundry around the corner with two bodyguards. This is as far as we go. Our territory ends past that street."

No ambush, or was it waiting inside?

"It looks like we’re up."

"Good luck, Jacob. Let’s make our mutual friend happy."

Mutual friend?

“That’s a weird way to say Van Lagos.”

Lira looked confused before she turned back to return to the estate with her guards. The other guards at the intersection walked away to continue their circuit through Lagos territory.

Were we alone or being watched from a distance?

I buttoned up my jacket and walked up to the corner.

The wide, one-story brick building was like most in the Industrial Quarter. Stone chimneys jutted from the slate tile roof, and falling ash and smoke turned the roof a sooty black. Windows along the walls offered torchless light and ventilation. But no smoke billowed from the chimneys and the windows were broken, boarded up with scraps of wood. This foundry had seen better days.

The soft crunch of boots and hooves on gravel reminded me that I wasn't alone.

"That plant hasn't been used in a while," Castille said over my shoulder.

"That doesn't make sense. What would Arwen be inspecting?" Isla asked.

"If you let me scout, I can find out."

Castille walked past me into the street, pulling her black mare along at a slow trod.

I blinked at her back.

“What’s she doing?”

Dugan shrugged.

She’s going to ruin everything!

I hurried after her, Isla and Dugan trailing behind me with their horses’ reins in one hand.

"Castille! What are you doing?"

She looked over her shoulder and smiled.

“Following through.”

I caught up to her as she reached the front door. She raised her hand to knock.

“Wait! This could be a trap,” I whispered.

"Maybe, or maybe you're overthinking things.”

She knocked. A jolt of panic ran through me. I froze. Footsteps—someone was coming.

The door cracked open.

A teenage girl with a grey bandana tied around her head peered through it.

"Oh... Uh... Hello?"

"Hello! My friend here is a travelling merchant looking for wares to sell. Can you show us to the person in charge?"

Her eyes widened as she looked from Castille to me.

I did my best attempt at a charming smile through my nerves.

"Oh, OK. Uh… Arwen is inside. Come in."

She opened the door wider and ran deeper into the building.

Castille and I exchanged looks.

"See."

"It could still be a trap," I said, under my breath.

Dugan tied off our horses while Castille and I walked into the building, weapons drawn. Isla walked in a moment later. She was carrying her new makeshift sling in one hand and a pouch of stones on her hip beside her dagger. The sling swayed with the weight of an icy stone loaded in its' cradle.

The front half of the building was empty, stripped of its equipment. Wooden partition screens were set up in the middle, blocking the view to the other side. As we approached, low murmurs echoed behind the makeshift barrier.

"Isla stand off to the side," Castille whispered.

"OK."

Dugan slipped into the building after us, axe in hand, scanning his surroundings. Castille and I walked up to the wooden partition.

She nodded to me.

I took a deep breath, and we pulled the screens open.