“Forming something like that would be the governor’s decision,” he said slowly. “Remember that Cape Triumph started off as a few shacks in the woods. Organized city watches weren’t really part of any master plan, and the army was enough muscle. Then the militia came along. And even though it’s sloppy, it’s what has held up here.”

   “Not from what I’ve seen. Pirates are enforcing justice.”

   He snorted. “Then go submit a proposal to Governor Doyle. You’re plucky. Maybe you could convince him to organize something.”

   “I’m Sirminican. And a woman. It’s hard to get any credibility at all—let alone permission to form a city watch.” I half expected Silas to agree. Instead, he just kept studying me, like this was the first time we’d met. He had a gruff, no-nonsense air and obviously didn’t suffer fools. I honestly wondered how Grant—who had his own share of headstrongness—managed to work for an authority figure like this. Or any authority figure, really. Pushing my luck, I asked, “Can I ask something else? About Grant?”

   “The less you know, the easier your life will be.”

   “Please, Mister Garrett. I just want to understand him.”

   Again, a delay. I kept wondering if Silas was trying to unsettle me or just needed that much time to think over his responses. “You really are ambitious. What’s your question?”

   “Grant said when he came to Cape Triumph as a child—when he was sent away from the Balanquans—that a couple took him in. Was that you?”

   “He told you that too?” That seemed to astonish Silas more than learning I’d helped steal the list. “Yes. It was me. And my wife. She passed a year after he left.” He paused again, letting that memory linger. “I tried to talk Grant out of going with him—his father—but Grant didn’t want anything to do with me at that point. He went off on his own and had to learn alone.”

   “But he came back to you. You must have had a bigger impact than you thought.”

   Silas shrugged. “He didn’t come to me right away. He went to the Balanquans first. I don’t know what happened there, but he didn’t stick around long. Would he have come here after that if he hadn’t met Aiana? Hard to say.”

   That friendship had always been a mystery to me. “Did they meet when he was back there?”

   “No. He found her in the northern colonies, on the run from her . . . wife.” Silas didn’t sound like he disapproved, so much as he was still getting used to a concept that wasn’t openly accepted in Osfrid and Evaria. “The Balanquans were hunting her. She had no idea what to do or where to go. Grant’s father might have been a ruthless bastard, but he did teach Grant how to take care of himself. And he took care of Aiana. He needed a fixed place for her to hide, and Cape Triumph was the only one he knew.”

   “I bet it was more than the city. I bet it was you.”

   “I don’t know. But I didn’t waste that second chance. I could tell he would drift away if I didn’t tie him down. No one remembered him, so I helped him make a new life. Set him up at the store, had him take charge of teaching Aiana to protect herself. He slipped into new roles so easily that it didn’t take long to realize he could do what I do—except he could do it in secret. Everyone knows I run the agency. But they don’t know who works for me. And, well, technically, he doesn’t. I can only make him an agent-for-hire, so to speak. Sir Ronald can give him a legitimate position—and will, once we stamp out these traitors. Agent or not, Grant can be invisible right now, and that’s very, very useful to us.”

   “Useful for him too,” I mused. “He gets to be everyone—and no one. He can move without restraint or commitment. Just the way he likes it.” One of Silas’s bushy eyebrows rose again. I’d come to realize that was a signal that something had really and truly astonished him. “Except you did tie him down. You gave him something, and here he is.”

   “But he won’t stay.” Silas’s hard countenance faded, and for the first time in our brief acquaintance, he looked vulnerable.

   A loud knock heralded Grant’s arrival and ended the conversation. Silas’s gruffness returned as he opened the door. Grant entered, dirtier and sweatier than when I’d last seen him. He gave a quick nod to me and focused on Silas.

   “We rode all the way up to Hamley. Scarborough had us search around the taverns for signs of itinerant priests while he had a very long talk with a tin merchant about the town’s heretic situation.”

   Silas made a hrmph. “Something tells me they discussed more than that. I assume you got his name? We’ll get Crenshaw on it. Right now, we’ve got more pressing problems.”

   We updated Grant on what I’d learned, and he seemed even more suspicious of how I’d found a “reliable source.” But after studying the map with Silas, he confirmed the oldest boardinghouse on Water Street, adding, “Oh, yeah, it’s ugly. Horribly maintained. A lot of shifty people go through there. The other one’s not quite as old, and that owner’s pretty strict about who he lets board.”

   I listened, ignored, as they plotted strategy. Silas wanted to recruit a few soldiers to follow Sandler when he left with the delivery, arresting him only once they determined his destination and the North Joyce contact.

   Silas put a hat on. “I’m going to the fort right now. Wait for me. And let her finish that letter—she’s earned it.”

   I’d been so engrossed in their planning that I’d paused in my writing again. After Silas left, I scrawled the ending and folded the paper up. Grant leaned against the wall, lost in his own thoughts. There was an almost feverish glitter in his eyes from the excitement of the night’s developments, but his body looked as though it had been pushed past exhaustion.

   “You should get some rest before whatever happens . . . happens.”

   His dark eyes flicked to me. “It won’t be much longer. Just through dawn. Then I’ll get a couple hours of sleep before the store opens. Right now? I’ve got the drive. I can do anything.”