“Stop.” He’d been inching nearer, mostly out of curiosity. I retrieved the gun from my skirt without him realizing it and pointed it at his chest. “Not a step closer.”

   “Really?” His eyes narrowed behind the mask as he studied me. He didn’t look frightened in the least. “Is this about the wig? You can wear it if you want.”

   “It’s about you and your operations, Mister Courtemanche. Get on your knees.”

   He obeyed, grinning. “And she speaks Lorandian too.”

   “Not as well as you,” I said, recalling his farewell to Adelaide this morning. “And I can’t hear a trace of it in your Osfridian.”

   “As well you shouldn’t. I’ve been in or around the colonies for most of my life. My family came from Lorandy years ago, and I support my homeland’s vision for Adoria.”

   “By funding a bloody revolution so that Lorandy can get its hands on the colonies’ resources?”

   “I have done a remarkable job,” he said with false modesty. “If I’d only worked this hard in my youth, I’d be living like a king by now.”

   “The Osfridian authorities actually think you’re a nobleman—that it’s the only way you’d have so much gold.” I nodded toward the bags in the crates.

   He brightened even more, still far too at ease considering his current position. “Well, that is high praise indeed.”

   “It’s over now. Lie down and put your hands behind your back.” Some of the gold bags were tied with rope. It was a narrower type than what I’d used upstairs, but I was certain I could get it to secure his wrists—so long as I could do it while holding the gun.

   But he didn’t move. “Aviel, I really can’t say enough how much I’m loving this. Not just seeing your real face. I mean: seeing this side of you. It really has improved my day—which makes it that much sadder that I have to be the one to tell you that gun isn’t loaded.”

   I didn’t blink. “You’re lying.”

   “I’d never really leave a loaded gun that accessible. I keep it on display to make drunken customers think twice about harassing the bartender. And if they don’t, my men can deal with any altercation.”

   “I don’t believe you.” But I was less confident now. Since I didn’t know this type of pistol, I couldn’t use its weight to tell me if it was loaded or not.

   Tom got to his feet and brazenly moved forward, putting the barrel back to his chest. “Then fire and find out.” When I did nothing, he chuckled softly. “Even if it was loaded, I wouldn’t be afraid. I know you won’t hurt me.”

   “You don’t think I have the nerve?”

   His smile broadened. “Oh, no. You’re no coward, Aviel. You were brave to come here. I used to tease you about not getting your hands dirty, but now I know that’s not true. It’s just your last resort. You’d rather appeal to man’s better nature. That kind of idealism will only hobble you, my dear. Because if you’re trying to get ahead, if you’re trying to further a cause, you have to shrug off honor and sentiment. If you really wanted to stop my actions, you would’ve tried to shoot me the instant you walked in. Instead, you decided to take the honorable path, to bring me in and see justice served through the fair channels everyone else faces. Thinking like that is why people fail. Why they get killed. Attachment to people, to principles, is a waste of your time. You need to be ready to sacrifice them.”

   “My father used to say the same thing.”

   “Smart man.”

   I pulled the trigger. It clicked. Nothing more.

   My hands shook, as though the hopelessness of my situation had cowed me. I turned the gun to its side and made motions to surrender it—and then I swung upward and slammed the grip into Tom’s face. He managed to grab my hair as I leapt for the stairs, jerking me back. I fell with a yelp, and moments later, he had me pinned on my back. He pressed a more familiar gun’s barrel to my forehead, and I knew it was loaded. It was the one he often wore.

   “I like you, Aviel,” he said, with none of his usual levity. “And I wish you’d stuck with us. Lorandy’s going to do great things in Adoria—far better than Osfrid could have. But your chance is over, and I can’t leave loose ends. I, you see, have no problem making the tough decisions.”

   “Neither do I,” said a welcome voice. “Pull that trigger, and I pull mine.”

   Still keeping the gun on me, Tom glanced over his shoulder, toward the stairs. He blocked my view, but I knew who stood there. “Mister Elliott, right? Spy and alleged shopkeeper. Until my lady showed up here, I would’ve said you’re the best-kept secret in Cape Triumph.”

   “Lower your gun and stand up,” said Grant.

   “How are you giving commands? Are you really ready to sacrifice some innocent girl for the McGraws?” When Grant didn’t answer, Tom tsked. “Well, Aviel, there you have it. Someone not afraid to get his hands dirty.”

   “Worry about yourself,” said Grant. “If you shoot her, I shoot you. If you surrender, you can live. Those are your choices. I walk out of here either way. It makes no difference to me.”

   “Oh, stop. Of course it makes a difference. If I live, you get the glory of bringing me in for interrogation.”

   My mind raced. Tom was behaving too casually again, just as he had when he’d known my gun wasn’t loaded. True, he was in a deadlock with Grant right now, but Tom wasn’t the type to just sit still when a situation showed no obvious solution.

   “Grant, someone else is coming! He’s just wasting time!”

   Tom still had one arm draped over my chest, letting him lean his body weight into me, but he kept his head and neck twisted to watch Grant. It couldn’t be comfortable, but Tom also couldn’t risk an unseen attack. “Are you on a first-name basis with him? No wonder you always seemed to have such romantic troubles. Never fall in love with someone who wears two faces, Aviel. And, Mister Elliott, I’m guessing you actually aren’t so indifferent to—”