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“So send someone out with me.”

“We cannot spare the men. Anyone required to protect you is too valuable elsewhere.”

This rankled Wren to no end. She didn’t need protecting. Vienne was right about one thing though: anyone required to keep Wren safe from Arrik and his men would have to be a skillful person indeed, and definitely needed for more important missions than hunting. But Wren fit that bill all on her own. Several weeks of eating well and exercise had returned strength and function to her. She was fighting fit. She was born a warrior. If she were to face Arrik now, she would put up more than a good fight.

If she planned it properly, she might even beat him.

“A wealthy merchant will be visiting the next port city over that I’m familiar with,” Leif chimed in. “I overheard it this morning down by the docks.”

“Do you mean Delansh?” Bram asked, the perpetual scowl on his face deepening. “That place is full of pirates!”

“Exactly the kind of place a wealthy merchant would decide to dock his ship if he planned to deal with the rebellion, not the crown.” Leif grinned. “And as it turns out, this particular merchant has sympathies for those enslaved in Verlanti. I think, with the right words, we can turn him to our cause. That will give us a safe, reliable source of foodstuffs and grain while we’re being hunted. I think that’s worth risking our necks against a few pirates, don’t you?”

Everyone pondered this in silence for a while. It was a wildly reckless, risky plan. Wren’s father had set up an entire naval branch just to deal with pirates; that’s how dangerous they were. She’d only dealt with them herself a handful of times, and it always led to casualties. Leif’s plan was stupid and foolhardy.

It was also the only plan they had to work with.

Vienne sighed, running a hand over her face, then said, “It isn’t a good plan, but it’s the best we have. Leif, take point on this.”

“I need the Dragon Princess.”

“Absolutely not!” Bram exclaimed, outraged. “That’s just asking to be caught. You saw how she acted today, Leif. Use your bloody brain here—I know you have one somewhere. We have to keep her out of sight.”

That was out of line.

Wren took a step forward, but Leif held his hand up, gave her a sidelong glance, and smiled mischievously. A gleam she hadn’t seen in his eyes since the night of their escape, deep in the Verlanti palace dungeons, filled her with a surge of adrenaline.

“This entire plan hinges on Princess Wren,” Leif countered. “She’s visible proof that the crown doesn’t hold complete control over the Dragon Isles. What better indication is there than that to bring the merchant to our side? If we hold the Dragon Princess—”

“Then we hold the Dragon Isles,” Josenu finished for him. He looked down at the map, tapping his fingers repeatedly as he mulled over something. “It will be difficult, but I think we should be able to keep Arrik away from the city for a day. Perhaps two. But I cannot make any promises. You will have to be quick.”

“Then we do not have the time to lose,” Ever said, snapping to attention and readjusting the positions Josenu had pointed out on the map. The tall, scarred woman was in charge of the rebellion’s effort to free slaves in Verlanti. Many of them joined the rebellion afterwards as a direct, pointed attack against their former captors, and so became Ever’s most trusted compatriots.

If they were going to organize the rebellion camp into three separate bases and split their forces appropriately, Ever was the one to do it alongside Vienne.

Vienne nodded at Leif. “I leave the merchant to you, then. And take—”

“Bram,” Leif finished, rolling his eyes even as the man scowled once more. “I know.”

It became painfully clear that Wren was expected to leave the tent before anyone else, as they planned to continue their conversation.

The one they were having before you interrupted them. Just what are you planning, Auntie?

Her gaze lingered on the table, and the contents beneath the map, one final time before taking the hint and leaving.

It was therefore to Wren’s surprise that Josenu followed her out.

“We need to talk,” he murmured, lightly touching Wren’s elbow to direct her away from the camp and into the forest.

Wren was torn between viciously refusing his request and satisfying her burning curiosity to find out what was going on. She never wanted to hear Arrik’s name again if she could help it. But on the other hand…being ignorant was a weakness. Knowledge was power, even when that knowledge was unpleasant.

And she wanted to know. More than she should.

She nodded. “Then let us talk.”

5

WREN