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Chewing her lip, Renelde nodded.

“I have an exit strategy,” she said. “There is a reservoir under the main parterre, and tunnels for the pipes that once carried water to the fountains. I know a way down to those tunnels from the north wing. We never had the chance to explore them, but they most likely come uphere.” She indicated a street markedrue des réservoirs. “We found a hatch on this street. I suspect it can be opened from below.”

If the reservoirs were disused, they would most likely have dried out. The thought calmed me a little.

“Fine,” I said. “The reservoir.”

Renelde showed us where the entrance to it was hidden, behind a near-invisible door in the north wing.

“Moving prisoners in the north wing should be easy. Shorter distance to cover. We can escort them quietly, in very small groups,” she said. “For the south wing . . . I think we will need a distraction.”

At this point, Ankou took over. Among the weapons he had stashed in the cemetery, there was a Scion-made flare gun. Someone would fire it over the gardens when the north wing was clear of prisoners. The flare would both draw the guards and signal to the group in the south wing to get moving. Having the best knowledge of the gardens, Renelde volunteered.

We decided who should go in which group. Since I was most sensitive to the æther, best-placed to sneak prisoners past the guards, I chose the more dangerous south wing. As it turned out, the device Ankou carried was a motion sensor—military technology, which could detect movement, even through walls, at up to thirty feet. He would use it to escort prisoners through the north wing. With a radar on each team, we had a decent chance of getting everyone out alive. Or so I told myself.

Once we had run through the plan one more time, they retreated to their sleeping bags. There was no need for them to know about my other mission. I lay down alongside Arcturus.

“Are you ready for this?”

My voice was the softest of whispers.

“To return to hell,” Arcturus said. “Yes. It is time.” He was on his side, facing me. “Areyouready for this?”

“I don’t know.” I gazed at the ceiling. “I’m afraid of walking into a trap. Kornephoros could have set us up. Any of us could die, and at this point, I have no idea if it would be my fault.”

“We have more evidence than rumor this time.” When I said nothing, he continued. “It is your nature to act, even in the face of uncertainty. I know that I have warned you against your impulsiveness, but it has served you well before.”

“I suppose Rephaim consider every risk and possibility before they dive in headfirst.”

“Immortals have the luxury of time. Our councils often seemed interminable,” he said, a little dryly. I managed a smile. “Can you complete your assignment from Domino?”

The question hung over us. I remembered Jaxon in his boudoir, smoking a cigar. Imparting wisdom.

A squandered opportunity is death to the thief.Should he feel even an ounce of pity for his victim, he will go hungry that night.He had stared out of the window.Morals, O my lovely, are for the lucky ones.

Without knowing it, Jaxon had given me his blessing to kill him that day. The assignment was an opportunity I could not squander.

“I have killed before,” I said. “More than once.”

“In self-defense,” Arcturus reminded me. “This would be an execution. And someone you know very well.”

“I don’t know Jaxon. I never knew him.”

As I spoke, memories gleamed. Shattered pieces of the past. All the good times I had shared with Jaxon, before I learned the truth. His rich chuckle. The spark I had longed to ignite in his eyes. Our first meeting, when he had revealed to me that I was clairvoyant, and all the things about myself that had once frightened me were rendered new and marvelous.

He had taught me to love what set me apart. If not for him, I might still fear myself.

Then came the ugly memories. When he had threatened me for trying to leave his service. All the times he had thwarted and belittled me. His betrayal after the scrimmage. The revelation of exactly who he was, and what he had done. He was a dangerous trickster who served no one but himself, capable of grave violence and utterly cold-blooded scheming.

“I don’t want to fail this assignment. Not when Ducos is starting to listen.” I pillowed my head on my arm. “I’ll find him.”

“If it comes to a choice between helping the prisoners and completing the assignment—”

“I’ll choose the former. This has always been about Sheol II.” My voice was little more than breath. “If that scuppers any alliance with Domino, I’ll have to make my peace with it.”

Arcturus reached into his coat and withdrew a familiar pendant on a chain. The protective relic he had given me, the one I had thrown back to him just before I was captured.

“Some protection against Jaxon.” He offered it to me. “It may also ground you. Should you find yourself returning to your dark room, hold onto it. Remember that you are no longer there.”