“This is my boat now. Go away!”

Cade would recognize that voice anywhere. He almost dropped his cask to run to her, to grab her and make his escape.

“Harley?”

Cade ignored Luke, glancing at the governesses. Was Lorine among them? How could he tell, with their veils? The veils. One was longer than the others, like those worn in Mill City.

“Harley.” This time Luke’s voice was sharp, and he tugged on Cade’s arm. “We must not keep the minister waiting.”

Cade stared at Luke, trying to make sure he understood Arhys was there. Luke stared back just as hard and gave him a subtle shake of his head, and mouthed, Later.

Cade reluctantly followed behind Luke. He glanced over his shoulder once more and saw a dripping Arhys show Lorine her boat. He also saw in the shadows beyond, the gleam of Enforcers alongside red-coated Inspectors. Perhaps Luke was right to draw him away, that this was not the time to make an unconsidered, foolish move, but would he be able to find Arhys again at some later time? Would they even be able to gain access to the palace again?

One thing at a time, Harlowe, he told himself. There were enough immediate problems to contend with, like meeting Webster Silk, that he didn’t need to invite more trouble.

It turned out that Webster Silk’s chambers were not too far from where the children played in the fountain. The room Mr. Jones brought them to was less an office than an opulent drawing room, a place for gentlemen of means to relax and sip brandy, or, perhaps, try some of Stanton Mayforte’s wine. A palace guard was posted outside the door, and another within. Also within waited three men, one of whom was Dr. Ezra Stirling Silk, wearing his characteristic dark specs. Cade tried to shift the cask to obscure his face. Dr. Silk would undoubtedly recognize him, even disguised as he was.

“Your visitor, Minister,” the secretary said. “Mr. Stanton Mayforte.”

“Thank you, Jones,” said the youngest looking of the trio. With a start, Cade realized this was Webster Silk, and he saw the resemblance to Dr. Silk. This couldn’t be right. Webster was supposed to be the father, but he looked much younger than Ezra. Cade knew Webster had lived an unnatural number of years, but looking so youthful, as well?

Mr. Jones bowed and withdrew from the room, closing the door behind him. Silence settled among the men.

Until Dr. Silk asked Luke, “So where is the third member of your party?”

“Tending the horses,” Luke replied.

Cade twitched. Why would Dr. Silk care about a lowly servant boy?

The third man in the room, a portly gentleman, said, “Luke, dear fellow, you aren’t trying to protect her, are you?”

Cade felt the blood drain from his head. They knew Luke. They knew Tam was a “her.”

Trap.

“She’d have been suspicious if I asked her to come in,” Luke said. “We’d been playing she’s ill all along.”

“You didn’t want to give our scheme away,” said the portly man. “Very commendable.”

“You can put the cask down, Mr. Harlowe,” Dr. Silk said.

Cade did not move, glimpsed the advance of the guard from the corner of his eye. Sensed another who must have lain hidden coming up behind him.

“You are under arrest, Mr. Harlowe, for traitorous actions against the empire and fomenting unrest.”

Cade took a breath, did not reply. He heaved the cask at the first guard and spun to meet the second with a fist to the man’s jaw. Both guards went down, just like that. He tensed to spring out the door. He would run, grab Arhys, go to Karigan.

“Well done, Mr. Harlowe,” the portly man exclaimed. “But far, far too late.”

Cade whipped around just in time to see the fire flash from the muzzle of a gun. White hot pain bore through the tissue of his shoulder and shattered bone, as the impact threw him to the floor.

STARLING AND SILK

Cade could not recall hitting the floor, but there he lay, writhing in agony as though a molten spike had been pounded into his shoulder and left there to burn. The slightest movement turned his vision white.

“Cade?” It was Luke kneeling beside him. “I’m sorry, lad, I’m so sorry.”

“Now none of that, Luke,” said the portly man. He held his pistol at his side, the muzzle still issuing smoke.

“I did not expect a mess in my office, Mr. Starling.” Through the pain, Cade recognized Webster Silk’s voice. “There are other ways he could have been subdued.”

“I’m very sorry, Minister,” said Mr. Starling. “I am too fond of my firearms.”

A glance revealed to Cade that the room was now filled with booted feet. The gunshot must have drawn additional guards. The wine cask had rolled away, and the man he’d knocked over with it had either recovered or been removed. He touched his shoulder, and his fingers came away bloody.

“You set us up,” he said to Luke between gritted teeth.

“I had no choice.” Luke bowed his head.

“There are always choices.” Mr. Starling stepped forward and hovered over the two of them. “Mr. Harlowe, you and I are going to spend some time together getting to know one another. You see, we have many questions about your role in the uprising in Mill City, among other things, and my job is to extract the answers to those questions from you.”

Inquisitor, Cade thought, losing hope even as blood leaked out of him.

“And don’t worry about your wound over much,” Mr. Starling said. “You are in Gossham, and we have very good menders who will heal you. I do so like beginning my work with a fresh canvas.” His smile was anticipatory, grotesque.