Page 70 of Fire to the Stars

He crosses his arms. “Gérard’s death, right?”

“Yourdeath. This is about censoring your research.”

“We haven’t officially confirmed that.”

“Consider Ravinfort. Why slaughter that outpost specifically, if not for the fact that Lyle basically told everyone you’d found a cure?” I remind him. “We should operate under the assumption that they want you dead to prevent your knowledge from saving dragons.”

“But Ican’tsave dragons.”

“They don’t know that.”

“Maybe Hanna’s lead is a test, then. Slaying Gérard will prove I have no cure. Problem solved.”

“You’re still a witness to the slaughter of Ravinfort. They’ll want you dead for that.”

“So your recommendation is what? I die?”

“Boys. So dramatic.” I roll my eyes. “I’m telling you tostageyour death after you kill Gérard. That’ll take the target off your back.”

“I’m not trained for acting. Even if I were, I still need to breathe. They’ll know I’m faking it.”

“You don’t need to stop breathing to make it believable.” I poke his chest. “What you need is a full-scale theater production. What do you think the assassins will do if they see the Gendarmerie drape a white sheet over you? Emerge into broad daylight to examine your body, or slither back into hiding?”

“They’ll think I succumbed to my wounds and keep theirdistance. They’ll release Madame Afi, no questions asked.” His eyes widen. “But she’s a witness to her own kidnapping. They’ll kill her.”

“Very astute.” I smirk. “But we can prevent that. The assassins obviously value anonymity. Once you’re ‘dead,’ the Gendarmerie can swoop in and take prisoners, whose release can be leveraged for her safe return.”

“You think Marshal Bard would willingly let a criminal gofree?”

“Under the right conditions. Don’t forget that we also need to expose their whole operation. Marshal Bard should consider offering immunity in exchange for selling out the others. Maybe even a monetary reward. The right incentive can prompt any criminal to betray their own.”

My Dames Blanches sisters are proof of that.

“Genius,” he marvels.

“Oh? I thought I was a criminal mastermind.”

“What’s the difference?” He laughs. “We should suggest this to Marshal Bard as soon as possible. I’m sure he’d like to finalize the plan before Ascension Day.”

Optimism brightens his expression, but the danger to Madame Afi sits in my chest like a stone. I wish there were a guarantee I could save her life to make up for the ones I took, but advice is all I can offer.

A scrape sounds from an alley behind us. I whirl and draw the dagger from my coat pocket. A cat hisses and flees to the opposite alley.

Cats, not killers. My heart—spare me—would do well to learn the difference.

“Let’s go,” he says. “Before we’re caught unawares.”

He offers his hand.

I shouldn’t take it. It’s too warm, too comforting, too addicting. I have a whole extra month of guilt to endure before I accept the judgment I deserve. At the same time, I just offered a strategy. Somethinggood. Can’t I accept a little good in return?

I pocket the dagger and fit my palm—too perfectly—within his.

Kill me.

—Micah Estellio

Chapter Twenty-Four