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“Numair got a whiff of gossip,” Valdus says and looks at the bottom of his glass as if it holds all the secrets of the world. “The guards have been talking about an execution of two rebels the day after tomorrow.”

A shiver runs up my arms. I tried to shut away the thought of Damen and Inara in my father’s dungeons for as long as I could, but I can’t hold it at bay any longer. My father wants to execute them. Kill them for something I’ve done.

“If something goes wrong— “

I lift my finger, interrupting him. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

“This desert is ever-changing, and sands might shift from under our feet. When that happens, the guards will take us apart.” His voice is a deep rumble, worry drawing his brows into a frown. “Promise me that no matter what happens, you’ll keep yourself safe.”

“What is this about? What else did Numair tell you?”

Valdus closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Just promise me, whatever happens, you’ll fight for your life. Please.”

“I always will. As I will for a better desert,” I say and have to stop to swallow down the lump forming in my throat. “But I won’t leave you behind if that’s what you’re trying to say.”

Valdus presses his lips, smooths my hair with his hands, but stops anything I might add with an urgent kiss.

I nod absently as Elin asks me a question. I wish I could run my fingers through Valdus’s. I wish he would ease the dread tugging on my skin, but he and Numair left before the sun climbed up the horizon. It’s only Elin and me in the kitchen as she tells me the secrets The Shadow City harbors in its narrow streets.

On any other day, I would have killed for an opportunity to hear all the stories that live in this city, but not today. With only a few hours left until the night wraps the city in its bitter embrace, these fleeting minutes bring the moment we have to leave closer, and the heel of my boot taps incessantly on the stones below. I have to repeat the words in my head as a mantra. Everything will go fine tonight. Perfectly fine.

I’ve never been to the dungeons. It’s a fact I’ve been careful to omit. Now, that it’s mere hours away before we go into the palace, I can’t shake the doubts.

What if I can’t find an entrance to the dungeons free of the guards? What if I can’t find Inara’s and Damen’s cells?

“Do I talk too much?” Elin asks when she notices my absent gaze.

Anything I planned to say gets pushed aside as Izod and Priya enter the kitchen, followed soon after by Valdus and Numair. Valdus takes a seat next to me, but we only exchange a few glances during a meal that I have trouble stomaching.

It’s only when Elin has to light the candles to chase away the shadows creeping through the windows that Valdus clears his throat. “Anyone who has any second thoughts can say so now and walk away.”

A squeak of a chair is the only answer as Izod moves closer to the table.

“Right,” Valdus says.

He ponders for a moment, takes a deep breath, and with a sharp tug, tears his tags from his neck. Numair follows. They all do, and a small pile of stamped metal lies in the middle of the table. I reach for my neck where the silver flower necklace has been my only piece of jewelry for the past months.

“You didn’t have your own tags, so I’ve met with a man I know and”—Numair offers me a pouch with a simple chain poking from within—“I’ve had these made.”

Engraved letters on the polished metal of the tags curve into something I have never expected to see.

Neylan of The House of Our Sun and Light

The Shadow City

The Rebel Princess

“Don’t show them around too much after we come back from the palace,” Numair adds.

I nod, unable to utter a thank you. I have to pry my fingers from the tags as I drop them on the pile. I’d rather drop the silver flower that’s scratching my skin there, but that gift is my burden to carry, if only to remember the man who died for it, to remember what this empire does to its citizens.

“Neylan, you’ll lead us into the palace,” Valdus starts as Elin climbs to her feet.

She’s the only one to keep her tags as she’ll stay behind to wait for our return. She picks up the rest as Valdus goes over the plan we’ve already heard. As she hangs them on the nails stuck in a board, her fingers send the rest swinging with a tremble. Names of a dozen men who left on a mission to never return glare at me. Her brother and cousin might be leaving theirs forever, too.

Stop it. I chide myself. We’ll succeed. We’ll pull Inara and Damen from my father’s clutches. They’ve never left their tags on this wall, but we’ll bring them back.

“Everyone’s ready?” Valdus asks.