Valek lay down. “That’s a lot of maybes. Although I rather like the idea of the Commander trying to protect us. It’s better than the alternative.”

I agreed. It didn’t take us long to fall into an exhausted sleep. Dawn came way too soon. Valek left for his meeting and I packed my meager belongings. I finished in no time. Instead of fretting over a dozen different things, I sat on the couch and resumed reading The Art of the Lie. The book included instructions on how to read a person’s body language by spotting small gestures and tics that revealed a liar.

A shutter creaked loudly. I stood and grabbed my switchblade. Onora climbed through the now-open window and stepped into the room. At least I hoped it was her and not another illusion.

She held her hands wide, showing she was unarmed. “I’m sorry if I startled you, but the guards wouldn’t let me in.”

“And you couldn’t wait?”

“I wanted to talk to you in private before you left.”

“Okay, but indulge me first. What is the one thing Janco hates?”

She laughed. “Janco hates many things, but he has a strong aversion to sand. He also despises magic and ants. Did I pass?”

I doubted Owen would know all that about Janco. “Yes.” Gesturing to the couch, I asked, “Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please.” Onora sat on the opposite end. “I know you’re worried about being fooled by an illusion, but there is no way Rika or anyone else would be able to climb in through Valek’s windows.”

“That difficult?” I added more water to the teapot.

“Yes, and he has a couple...interesting booby traps.” She pulled her sleeve back to reveal a cut along her forearm. “Knives hidden under fake stones being one.” Blood snaked to her wrist.

“Let me get you a bandage.”

“No need. It’s not deep.” Onora tugged her shirt down, covering the wound and avoiding my touch.

She wore an all-black, tight-fitting sneak suit similar to Valek’s, except it lacked a hood. Plus, her hands, feet and face remained uncovered. Morning sunlight streamed in through the open window.

“Someone may have spotted you on the castle’s walls,” I said.

“I doubt it. Most people don’t look up.”

“True.” But knowing Valek, he had probably assigned an agent to watch the walls.

I poured two cups of tea and handed one to Onora. “You wanted to discuss something?”

She sipped her tea. “Valek informed me this morning that...” Onora gazed at her lap. “That Captain Timmer is in the Commander’s dungeon, and that I would have the honor of executing him at the fire festival in front of the Commander’s entire army.”

I suspected this Timmer had been the one to assault her, and the Commander wished to make him an example. “Why you? Why him?”

Her foot juddered, swinging back and forth like an excited puppy’s tail. “He’s the bastard I should have assassinated a year ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I... Shit.” She set the teacup down with a clatter and surged to her feet. “I tried, but every time I got close to him... I just...couldn’t. My failure’s been haunting me. I was so convinced his death would make everything go away. But then you claimed it wouldn’t. And...”

I waited.

Onora stabbed a stick into the fire. Sparks flew and ash swirled. “And I...panicked. What if I can’t kill him? What happens if this...” She pounded a fist on her chest. “This hardness inside me doesn’t dissipate with his death? What if it spreads instead, turning me as hard and cold as the castle’s stones?”

Ah. I drank my tea, stalling for time as I mulled over her comments. “You knew before I said anything that death wasn’t the right solution. That’s why you couldn’t assassinate him.”

“But he should die!” She punctuated die with a powerful thrust of her branch. The logs shifted, rolling to the back. Her anger spent, she sat on the floor, crossing her legs.

“And the Commander agrees with you. His soldiers are warned of the consequences of abusing their power, and Timmer will be executed, either by your hand or another’s. Yet that won’t untie the knots inside you. You need to determine what you’re afraid of and confront it.” I lifted my cup. “I know. Easier said than done, and if I had my magic and your permission, we may have been able to untangle you this morning.”

She stared at the flames. They flickered as if agitated.

Memories of my efforts to expel my fear rose to the surface of my thoughts. Terror and pain no longer tainted these memories. Instead I drew strength from them, and Onora needed to know I shared a similar experience. I told her about the torture and rape I’d endured. “Reyad blamed me for the abuse. If only I’d listened better or tried harder, then I wouldn’t suffer. He led me to believe that I was no longer a person, but an empty shell to be used. I slit his throat, not to stop him from hurting me, but to keep him from abusing my sisters in the orphanage. I knew murder would land me in the Commander’s dungeon, awaiting execution, and I welcomed it.”

“How did you get past all that?” Onora asked in a low tone.

“With the realization that I was in control of my life and body. Me. Not him. That I was no longer a victim and should stop acting like one. I also had help from my friends. And I drew strength from Valek’s love. I still do.”