It made sense. “Why do you wait until I go to bed? Why not just ask me to leave it open?”

“A locked door gives you a sense of security—helps you sleep. Besides, I’ve seen you fight. If someone ambushed you while you’re awake, you’d do fine until I could get in.”

His compliment about my fighting skills offset his assumption that I felt secure with a locked door. I’ve spent enough time with Janco to know better. A pang of loneliness touched my chest. He would love all my nighttime excursions.

Nic returned to his post. I left the door unlocked, changed into my nightclothes and slid into bed. My whirling thoughts kept sleep at bay. A partner would help. The only other person I trusted was Kade.

His reply to my letter had been carefully worded, but his unhappiness and concern over my decision had been clear. He offered to join me in Fulgor, but I responded with an optimistic assurance that I would visit him before the storm season began.

When the moon waned, I continued my practice sessions. Each night I added a few more steps until I managed to break into the Councilor’s Hall. Fisk’s lock picks and Captain Marrok’s patient instructions paid off as I crept through the kitchen door. With the utmost care, I ascended the stairway and peeked down the hall to the Councilor’s office. Sure enough, a guard stood by her office door.

Hiding under the stairs, I waited. Eventually, another guard crossed the lobby and marched up the steps, relieving the one by the door. I counted footsteps as he climbed to the top level. The thud of boots on stairs grew louder as someone came down. This guard checked the kitchen door. I almost fainted in panic until I remembered I had relocked the door.

He looped around the lobby before joining another next to the main entrance. At least four guards were on duty at night. There could be more assigned to watch Tama’s and Gressa’s suites, but as long as only one remained next to their offices, I should be able to handle him. Should being the key word.

The next three nights, I repeated my nighttime observations, tracking the patterns of the guards. My practice excursions had spanned a total of twelve nights. I had lived in Fulgor for twenty days already—half the hot season. I decided not to waste any more time. The night of the new moon would be ideal to put my plans into action.

As I expected, the moonless night covered the streets with a thick darkness. Loading my pack with my blowgun, darts and various supplies, I headed to the Councilor’s Hall. Once inside, I dipped the darts into a sleeping potion and attached them to a holder strapped around my upper arm. I smiled, thinking of Fisk. He had suggested I buy all the extras.

Swinging my pack over my shoulders, I waited for the guard change. A few minutes after the rotation finished, I crept up the steps. The lobby’s shadows concealed me from the two men by the main doors.

Crouched on the top step, I reached into my pocket, grasping the glass rat inside. Keeping the bag’s opening tight around my arm, I crushed it. A muffled huff sounded. I froze, waiting for an alarm. A cold wet nose pressed against my hand and fur brushed my fingers. I bit my tongue to keep from yelling.

When nothing happened, I pulled the rat out and placed him on the floor.

Run around the man’s feet twice, then return to me, I instructed in my mind. He scurried to obey.

The guard recoiled, cursed and drew his sword, following the creature. When he came within range of my blowpipe, I shot him with a dart.

“What the…?” He sagged to his knees and collapsed on the floor.

Again I waited as long as possible. Did the guard’s cry reach his colleague? The sound of my heart dominated all my other senses. With no time to waste, I hurried down the hall, popped the lock to Tama’s office and slipped inside. I lit a candle and searched her desk, file cabinets and piles of folders, looking for anything unusual. Scanning budget reports, security reports and inventories, I found no evidence of Tama’s plans.

I abandoned her office and relocked the door. Crossing to Gressa’s door, I paused to listen for footsteps. Thirty minutes remained until the guard change and I planned to be gone in twenty.

Gressa’s office contained the same dull accounting of money and resources. I found the stack of messenger orders. She had gone through them and marked approved or denied. I imagined she stamped the denials with vicious glee, but I wondered if the rejected orders would be presented to me, as well.

With time almost up, I pulled a file of receipts from her desk drawer. Flipping through invoices for glass supplies, sand and equipment, I scanned typical bills for running a glass factory. Except the quantity seemed rather large for four kilns. Perhaps she stockpiled the material at a different location in town or built another glass shop. I searched the sand invoice for an address. The delivery location was in Hubal. I memorized the street name and number before stuffing the file back into the drawer.

I straightened the piles and fixed her chair before leaving. Slipping down the stairs, I reached the kitchen without being seen. But on the other side of the swinging door, I startled a guard.

“Hey!” he yelled, reaching for his sword.

So much for my clean getaway. I ducked my head and rushed him, ramming my shoulder into his solar plexus. He stumbled back with a whoosh. I kept moving forward, but he tackled me to the ground. With his arms around my waist, he leaned all his weight on my back and legs. His gasps to regain his breath sounded in my ear.

My arms were free, but I couldn’t pull away. Pinned, I halted for a heartbeat in panic until I remembered my darts. He called for help as I reached and tore one off, then blindly jabbed. Once asleep, he relaxed. I wiggled out from under him just as the door crashed open. Two guards paused to assess the situation. I didn’t wait. Bolting through the door, I raced out into the night.