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I nod as Numair sits up straight in his own bunk. His feet dangle low enough to hide me from view. As Valdus climbs to his feet, his broad back adds another layer of protection from any prying gaze.

I’m so tired of hiding, but what else can I do? It might be the only way to get Inara and Damen out of the palace’s dungeons.

“Don’t let ‘em see your eyes,” Numair says just in time for the captain to appear in our compartment.

I turn to the window as Valdus passes the collection of tags to the young man with ruffled hair from too little sleep and too many responsibilities. Even in the distorted reflection he looks much more handsome than a ruthless guard of my father’s armies should be.

“What’s your business in The Shadow City?” he asks.

“Looking for work.”

The captain spends a long time checking the tags. Longer than it seems necessary.

“Seems your ragtag group has stirred up some trouble,” he says.

My heart stills in my chest, and not even Valdus’s noncommittal shrug eases my worry. I can feel the captain’s gaze burning on my skin, appraising me as if I was nothing but another mess he hadn’t signed up for when he was sent here from The Shadow City.

“Is everything all right there?” he asks, nodding my way.

“Couldn’t be better with the grace of Our Sun and Light,” Valdus grumbles.

“I’m not talking to you, but the scrawny one there.”

A tremble settles in my hands, and I grip the fabric of my trousers to hide it.

“You, at the back. I’m talking to you.”

I can see Valdus angle his body to reach for his revolver if the guard decides to take his questioning further. I can sense the tension rising, but I can’t get a word past my lips when my tongue feels like sandpaper.

“I just woke up,” I croak with a prayer that the guard won’t notice my shaking voice. “Still nauseous from the jumble of cars on the rails, that’s all.”

No one answers. I’m not sure, the captain believes a single word, but I have nothing else to offer.

The guard steps around Valdus and closer to me. “You should learn to look up when talking to those better than you.”

Anger bursts inside of me, as if it was a bubble stretched too thin.

“Better than me?” I murmur.

Before anyone can take their next breath, I look up.

38

Valdus reaches for his revolver. I reach for my sword. And it seems Numair is the only one sane among us. He jumps down from his bunk mere moments before my gaze could meet the guard’s. Shaking his head, lifting his hands up, he shields me enough so the captain wouldn’t see the burning green of my eyes.

“I’m sorry, captain. My brother here is an invalid. He was born with only one eye.” Numair dares to glance at me. “And ahh…some trouble in the head, it seems,” he adds. His pointed look tells me to zip it. “But Caleb is blood, and no matter how deep a hole he digs for himself, it’s up to us to look after him.”

The captain finally turns his observant gaze on Numair, as if trying to see for himself how far this lie will go. “Numair of The Broken Sands. I thought the name rang a bell. I remember now. It was my father who cut that hand of yours for stealing.” The captain points at Numair’s metal prosthetic. “Don’t tell me it will be me who’ll have to cut out your tongue for lying.”

“I wouldn’t dare to lie. Not to the captain of the armies of Our Sun and Light.”

“Everyone knows the treacherous dreg with the name of Erik.” The guard smiles. “He had only one son.”

Numair shrugs and motions to the tags. “Same mother, different fathers, but still blood.”

The captain turns the tags in his hands, his eyes running over the names stamped on them.

“What’s this about?” Numair asks, leaning to a side, covering my features even further. “Why all this fuss over simple travelers?”