“Would she be able to carry both you and a man during flight?”
“I doubt it—”
“It wouldn’t be far—”
“I don’t think—”
“It would be the surest method of slipping you safely inside the wedding. From there, it would be simple to lure the man away using your illusion-work.”
“I’m not comfortable asking her,” I say, with more strength in my voice. “Too many of my family members have already been murdered by the Alliance. I don’t want to risk another.”
“Surely she would be more than willing to help the cause, considering the tragedies that have befallen your...family.”
Of course Hawk wouldn’t object. But that’s what I’m afraid of.
“Her willingness is beside the point. I don’t want her involved,” I say.
Villiam clears his throat. “Chimal, my daughter has all of the weapons of Gomorrah at her disposal. Surely there’s another way of executing this without endangering anyone beyond those in this cart and those who already serve the Festival.”
Only now do Chimal’s words dawn on me. I’d been so concerned with Hawk’s involvement that I hadn’t paid attention to my own. He wants me to be the one to lure the leader away from the wedding? I don’t perform well under pressure. I could be killed and jeopardize all of Gomorrah in the process. Is my father truly at ease with that?
“What are our other options?” I ask, fear obvious in my tone.
“You sneaking into the wedding from ground-level,” Chimal says.
“I hardly look like an Up-Mountainer.” Chimal, with such Yucatoan features, looks more Up-Mountainer than me.
“You would need to disguise yourself the whole time, with illusion-work.”
Chimal has no idea what level of concentration that requires. I can maintain my moth illusion for a few minutes, at best, but something more complex than that? Something to disguise me and then later lure the leader of the Alliance away from his guards? My routine in the Freak Show is ten minutes long, but it requires a different skill set, as the illusion is always moving. Fixed illusions are more challenging, like holding a weight with an outstretched arm.
“Are we even certain who the leader is?” I ask.
“We have a few theories,” Villiam says. “We suspect it’s an archduke of Sapris. He has the money, the name and the connections. But it could also be the crown prince of Leonita, the future heir of the city. Or a lesser-born merchant from Frice, who commands an empire of wealth.”
“Do you intend for me to kidnap all of these men?” I ask.
“No. We’re placing our bets on the archduke. His name is Dalimil. He’ll be your target. If he turns out not to be the leader, he will still provide valuable information. There’s no doubt that all of those men are high-ranking members of the Alliance.”
“You’re gambling an awful lot on this theory of yours,” I say.
“Yes,” he says seriously, “we all are.”
“Villiam, would I be able to speak to you alone for a moment?” Chimal asks. The way he looks everywhere but at me, I don’t anticipate he means to compliment me in my absence.
“Of course,” Villiam says. “Sorina can wait outside.”
I climb out of the cart with a swift, indignant leap. I’ve been kicked out of their club. When I lean closer to the fabric of the cart to eavesdrop, I hear nothing. It must be charmed to be soundproof.
Does Chimal think I’m being uncooperative? I’m not thrilled by the idea of kidnapping anyone, regardless of what they may or may not have done. Do I need to make a decision now? Gomorrah is swiftly approaching Gentoa and, after that, Sapris, where the wedding will take place. A quick decision is needed, but I don’t feel ready to decide. I wish I could speak with Luca first. I haven’t told him everything Villiam has shared with me, but I have a feeling he already knows. With all the prettyworkers he’s spoken to, he probably knows more about Gomorrah than I do, even though he’s only lived here for a year.
After a few more minutes of waiting, Villiam steps outside to join me. I help him onto the ground, and he balances himself with his crutch. We remain still as Gomorrah drifts around us.
“I will get straight to the point,” he says, resigned. “Chimal doesn’t trust you. He doesn’t think your heart is in this. I have worked with Chimal for over seven years, and if he doesn’t sense complete and utter loyalty, he won’t work with you.”
“Of course my heart is in this. The Alliance may have murdered two members of my family. What more does he want from me? Should I kneel? I don’t need to agree with him to know we are on the same side.” I curl my hands into fists. I’m completely and utterly loyal to Gomorrah, but not to him. We only met a few minutes ago; he hasn’t earned my trust yet.
“He wants you to speak to Hawk.”
“He seems unwilling to compromise.” The salty winds from the nearby coast blow my hair against my face, and I hold it back and wrap my cloak tighter around myself to keep warm.
“As do you.”
“Surrendering is not the same as compromise.”
“Chimal is the man planning the details of this mission. He won’t include you in his plans if he doesn’t trust you. He’s the captain of the guard—he is essential to this. He’s been essential to Gomorrah for years.”
I hear the words he has left unspoken. That I’m inessential to the protection of the Festival. The thought of this stings more than a little.
“Then I will help the effort in some other way,” I say at last.
“There are no other illusion-workers in Gomorrah.”
“I thought you said the Downhill was our arsenal, and I thought I was a future proprietor. Not Gomorrah’s finest weapon.”
“Your skills are necessary. Do you think I would ask this of you if they weren’t? I’ve already had the argument with Chimal that you’re having with me now.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you brought me here for this? I thought I was getting a tour.”
“I didn’t know he wanted to use Hawk until just now. He’s only mentioned you in passing before this.”
“I don’t want Chimal to use anyone. Not me and certainly not anyone else in my family.” I turn to leave. I have other things to do today, like finding Jiafu to return the extra coins and meeting with Luca to interview another suspect. I don’t want to stay here long enough for Chimal and Villiam to convince me. Not before I have time to think everything over, and maybe talk to Luca.
If Chimal is so essential, he can push Villiam home.
“You have a day to think about this,” my father says from behind me. “If you want, we can all talk to Hawk together.”
I ignore his comment as I walk away. No one is talking to Hawk; I don’t want her to know we even had this conversation. If I decide to help them, that’s one thing, but I won’t allow them to put any more of my family in harm’s way—not even for justice.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The overcast sky obscures the few stars visible through Gomorrah’s smoke, so the only light in the Downhill comes from the green-fire torches, flickering from the heavy coastal winds. Several of the torches have blown out. Everything is green and dark and hushed, and, despite becoming accustomed to the Downhill after visiting it so much with Luca, I’m acutely aware of how little I know about these neighborhoods of Gomorrah, which are not nearly as nice as Chimal’s. The person who lives in the tent beside me could be a killer. Or a shadow-worker could be skulking about between caravans, waiting for an opportunity to grasp my shadow in the green light, like I’m a rabbit walking into a snare. Villiam said that I would have nothing to worry about, as the future proprietor, but I don’t believe him. I don’t feel like a proprietor. I feel very much like a girl, far too young to make the decisions ahead of me.
Jiafu isn’t in his caravan, even though it’s only five o’clock and he rarely rises before eight. I wait for him, my right hand in my pocket, gripping a concealed knife. My illusion-work prevents me from being noticed, but, today, even being invisible doesn’t seem like enough to keep me calm.