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He glanced at her, a quick flick of the eyes that told her he knew full well she was there, and then he turned to his two soldiers.

“Dirk, Finola.” He addressed them. “Catja.” He acknowledged the Venyatux soldier with a nod. “What happened?”

“That one called Catja a Venyatux witch.” Finola pointed to the Kassian, who had finished throwing up and was now leaning, pale and weak against the wall, eyes closed. “Said General Ru was a sorceress, and Catja was her witchy handmaiden.”

Luc’s gaze cut to her again, just for a moment, and Ava could see the banked amusement in his eyes.

Very funny.

There was no official ban on spell casters, but she had always been warned there was a social cost to spell casters revealing themselves, and in her mother’s and her case, actual danger in doing so.

Finola’s original warning to Catja was right. Accusing General Ru and her soldiers of sorcery was a sign of disrespect. It would need to be dealt with.

“Is he in trouble?” A woman spoke up from the much smaller crowd that remained. They had stepped back from the Kassian, who was still leaning, slack-mouthed, with eyes closed, against a wall, but Ava sensed they were unwilling to leave him, as if they feared something would happen to him.

“He a friend of yours?” Luc asked her.

She seemed unsure how to answer. She half-lifted a shoulder. “I know him. Wouldn’t call him a friend.” She glanced over at the man, now bent over with hands on his knees, his skin tinged with gray.

“But yet you’re staying to see he’s all right.” Luc kept his voice neutral.

“Been rumors.” The woman half-shrugged again.

“Rumors?” Luc’s attention sharpened, and so did Ava’s.

“That people who talk back to the soldiers disappear.”

“Which people?” Finola spoke up, tone indignant.

The woman flicked a look at her, shook her head. “No specifics.”

“And what do these rumors say happens to these unnamed victims?” Luc asked.

The people who up until now had stood around the woman began drifting further away, leaving her out in the open, on her own. She noticed it, and went still, shook her head.

“They don’t, exactly. They just say it’s revenge. For the Chosen camps.”

She was now completely on her own. A few people were still within earshot, but most had disappeared completely, and those who were still visible looked ready to melt away.

“Where did you hear these rumors?” Catja asked.

Like she’d done when Finola had taken over the questions from Luc, the woman looked at Catja with a quick flick of surprise, and Ava wondered what she found so surprising. Perhaps that Luc was not controlling everything, that he allowed his companions a voice.

He was right. Fernwell had not had good leaders up until now.

“People talk in the taverns. The speculation can get . . .” The woman looked at the Kassian, who had finally straightened, “more than a little wild.”

“What’s your name?”

Luc’s question didn’t seem to surprise her.

She had done what she thought was the right thing, watching over a fellow Kassian, and she had now come to the Turncoat King’s attention. She seemed resigned when she lifted her head.

“Yvette.”

“You are a courageous woman, Yvette. And I can tell you there are no Kassians being abducted and disappeared by the Rising Wave.”

She hesitated, then gave a nod. “And him?”