hefted the bag in my hand, even as I weighed options in my mind. He was right. I could go down to the marketplace, walk out through the open gates, and disappear into the city. From there, I could take a train back to the Mortan-Andvarian border, then call out to Grimley and have him fly me back over the Spire Mountains to Blauberg.
Or I could stay here and spy on the Morricones.
Despite everything I’d learned, I still had no idea what Milo planned to do with the thousands of pounds of tearstone that he’d stolen. If he was making a new weapon, like Leonidas had suggested, then I needed to find out as much about it as possible. Milo had already orchestrated the deaths of dozens of Andvarians. What kind of future queen would I be if I didn’t do everything in my power to keep him from murdering even more of my people?
Back in Blauberg, I’d joked to Topacia and Grimley that this mission was an adventure. But it was turning out to be a necessity, one that just might make the difference between Andvari falling to Morta or emerging intact from this growing conflict.
And then there was the not-so-simple matter of my own pride. I hadn’t saved myself in Blauberg, which rankled me as badly as a burr under a horse’s saddle. I hadn’t been clever enough to figure out that Conley was planning to kill me, and I hadn’t been strong enough, either physically or in my magic, to keep him and his men from getting the better of me. As much as I hated to admit it, the only reason I was still alive was because Leonidas had rescued me.
Well, now I had a chance to potentially save everyone in Andvari, and I wasn’t going to let my people, my family, or myself down. I was not going to be a bloody failure. Not again. Not like I’d been in the mine, and especially not like I’d been during the Seven Spire massacre.
“Where, exactly, is Ravensrock?”
“It’s a small city in northern Morta.” Confusion filled Leonidas’s face. “Why do you ask?”
“Lady Armina should know where her hometown is.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You can’t possibly want to stay here.”
“Why not? I’m an Andvarian spy, and you’ve paved the way for me to skulk around Myrkvior to my heart’s content. I would be remiss if I didn’t take advantage of such a golden opportunity.”
He shook his head again. “We both know it’s not safe for you to stay here. I saw your gargoyle pendant and the matching crest in your dagger. I know that you . . . work for the Ripleys.”
Leonidas stumbled over the last few words, as though my family’s name was difficult for him to say. Perhaps it was, given all the misery that Maeven and the Bastard Brigade had inflicted on my family. I wondered if Leonidas remembered how much pain he had inflicted on me when we had met as children. Probably not.
I shoved away my petty feelings about the past and focused on what was important right now. “Who else saw my pendant and dagger? Who else have you told about me?”
“No one,” he replied. “I took off your pendant and removed your dagger before I let the bone masters heal you, and I only put them back in your chambers when I was sure no one would disturb you. No one here has any reason to think you are anyone other than Lady Armina from Ravensrock.”
I eyed him, but he once again seemed sincere. “Good. Then I can pretend to be Lady Armina, nose around, and see what I can find out about Milo and the missing tearstone. You said it yourself that your brother has people watching you. Perhaps they won’t pay as much attention to me.”
“Your idea is madness—utter madness,” Leonidas snapped. “If Milo finds out who you are, he will torture and kill you. Immediately. And if my mother finds out . . .” His voice trailed off. “Well, it will be worse than anything Milo can dream up.”
Memories of the massacre flickered through my mind. He was probably right about that.
“Just . . . go home, Armina.”
His calling me Armina instead of my real name grated like sandpaper on my already raw nerves. He was ordering me about, and he didn’t even have the bloody courtesy to recognize or remember me. I knew it was a ridiculous sentiment, and that I was far safer this way, but