“Sorry,” Aaro said with an accent lilting and lazy as if he were Rielhan. He was better at it than the last time she’d heard him fake it. He wore all black just like he had at Tousieux: a collared shirt, matching trousers and waistcoat, and an unbuttoned long topcoat. “Wasn’t watching where I was going.” He tried to flatten his curls with a hand as if overly conscious of its messiness—a laughable display of bashfulness.

Had he just wanted Malou to know that he was there? How had he known she’d be here? Perhaps Gavriel had let him know, which meant he was probably here as well. At least she could be relieved at that. “

“Are you hurt?” Malou asked Elodie.

Elodie shook her head. “I’m not hurt. There’s no need for any apologies.”

“That’s a relief to hear.”

“What’re you waiting for?” Dorian growled. He looked like his fists were aching with the desire to punch Aaro for even having touched his sister, but he knew it’d cause an unnecessary scene when we were trying to do anything but that. “Leave before I make you.”

A corner of Aaro’s mouth quirked upward while one of his eyebrows lifted. “Wow,” he drawled, his gaze lingering on Malou. Perhaps he’d come to create a distraction much like Dorian had, but this wouldn’t be enough. “That’s so very generous. Thanks a million.”

When he turned to leave, Janna grabbed a fistful of his jacket. “You stole from her, didn’t you?” she said so everyone around them could hear, and people began calling for the Gendarme and clearing a circle around them. “What’d you steal? Turn out your pockets, thief.”

Aaro snickered. “I stole nothing, you patsy.” Was he trying to make her mad?

“He really didn’t steal anything, Janna,” Elodie said, grabbing Janna’s arm. “Please let him go.”

“Oh, sweet Elodie,” Janna cooed. She started to pat Aaro down, but his smirk didn’t break. “Your heart is too soft. Anyone who calls us patsy is someone who’d steal from us with the most wholesome look on their face and the most innocent-seeming of intentions.”

“Sounds like you’ve had experience,” Aaro said. “Adorable for a patsy to speak of intentions, though, as if you don’t steal from us while making promises of abundance and prosperity.” He went to grab her wrist, but his arm was suddenly forced behind his back and he was made to drop to a knee by two Gendarme who’d joined them from the edge of the circle. He didn’t look alarmed, though, and so all Malou did was pull Elodie away from him. At least these Gendarme didn’t have mechanical dogs as well.

“Careful.” Aaro grunted with a breathless chuckle. His eyes met hers again, and this time, they told her to go. “I’m fragile.”

Malou swallowed, backing to the edge of the circle with Elodie as the Gendarme forced Aaro face-first onto the marble floor. Elodie tensed as if readying to intervene, so Malou held the girl closer. She’d drag her kicking and screaming onto that train if that was required.

Then a soldier with slicked-back dark auburn hair emerged from outside of the circle—tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing the gray leather armor of the Sea Legions. What were the Sea Legions doing here? No—the more appropriate question was why she had thought they wouldn’t be here. They were here for the same reason as the Gendarme: the Libertines.

“Fragile is fine with me,” the man said, tone flat, as he peeled off his gloves to reach into his pocket for a pouch of tobacco. He looked maybe a year or two older than Dorian. The gold bands around the cuffs of his jacket glinted. He wasn’t just any Legionnaire but a high-ranking one. He glanced at Janna, then looked down at Aaro. “I wouldn’t mind breaking you. Name?”

“Laure,” Malou whispered, her breath quickening. She almost didn’t want to ask but not knowing would be worse than the truth. “Who is he? Is Janna connected to him?”

“I’m no one,” Aaro answered, and the Legionnaire pressed his boot to the middle of his back as he retrieved some tobacco paper and a filter from his other pocket. “Are you arresting me, you fucking gunsel? Haven’t done anything wrong but just get it over with.”

Laure said into her ear exactly what Malou feared, “That’s Captain Cesare Nunziata of the Revernais Crowned Navy Special Operations Command. He oversees Team 8—the team his sister Commander Fiorenza Nunziata leads. I’m unsure of his connection with Janna.”

That didn’t matter for much. If Senator de Klijn knew who Adeyemi was, didn’t that mean he knew who her captain was? That meant that not only was it likely that the captain knew about Malou because of de Klijn’s interest in her mother, but also if the senator knew Captain Nunziata, he knew about the senator’s daughter as well. If there’d been any chance they could’ve escaped from this, Malou had missed it.

“He stole from a patrician,” Janna said and, with one languid finger, pointed to Elodie. Then added the last thing Malou would’ve wanted her to say, “The younger Valois.”

As Malou pulled Elodie closer, Dorian stepped in front of them. “As if we care?” he said. Condescension rolled off him, and his eyes were as hard as her mother’s had ever been. For once, she was thankful he’d learned to be like this. “Even if he did, doesn’t it seem like he could use it more than us? We’re going to miss our train. May we leave, Nunziata?”

With a bored look, the captain raised a hand, a clear command to stay. “Haven’t done anything wrong? I’ll be the judge of that, don’t you think?” The captain pressed down on Aaro’s back, crushing him to the floor as he gestured to the Gendarme to search his pockets.

Aaro gave a pained grunt that he chased with a chuckle. Was it possible he’d wanted to get caught? Unless he’d neglected the skills he had when they were younger, Malou knew he could’ve slipped out of the Gendarme’s grasp earlier. If the Libertines had known the Sea Legions would be here for them, wouldn’t they have wanted to use that tactic against them? That’d make this a distraction.

“These yours then?” With tobacco paper between two of his fingers, Captain Nunziata gestured at the Gendarme brandishing a handful of polymer reals. From the looks of it, the Gendarme had found a few 𐌓50 and 𐌓100 banknotes in one of his pockets. One of the Gendarme handed him what they must’ve thought was Aaro’s silver.

“Why else would they be in my pocket?” Aaro said, smirking as Janna squatted next to his head and moved a curl from his forehead. What was this a distraction for, though? He’d drawn attention to them, not away.

“He stole these from you?” the captain asked Elodie. His gaze was pinned on the girl, and she stiffened in Malou’s arms. He beckoned her over with the tiniest flick of his fingers before he went back to rolling his cigarette. He glanced at Janna. “You said he stole them from her, right?” He carefully licked the edge of the paper.

Janna muttered something to Aaro, but he just flashed her a wide grin. She stood, delicately held her elbows, and confirmed with a self-satisfied smile, “Indeed, I saw him, Captain.”

When Elodie went to step forward, Dorian put his arm out to keep her from moving any closer to Janna and the captain. “Janna, you were behind me. You saw nothing. On the other hand, I saw it all. He bumped into her, and she stumbled a little. Nothing else happened.” He checked his watch. “So if you’ll pardon us now, we should be leaving.”

“During an active investigation of theft?” Captain Nunziata asked. Finally, he fit his cigarette between his lips. Another Legionnaire came running to his side with a lighter. Malou recognized her just as she’d recognized the others who’d been at Brosch’s that night, and she pulled Elodie behind her on instinct. “Young Valois, I’m not sure you have such authority.”

“And you do not have any authority to search him without probable cause,” Dorian said. “You know that already, do you not? Yet here you are, breaking the law anyway, which is quite reportable. Now, don’t you think you should let us go, Captain?”

Aaro choked out a laugh. “This is just grand.”

Captain Nunziata’s eyebrows rose, and his uninterested expression melted into something else. Amused. Dangerous. He took a long draw from his cigarette first, then pressed his weight on Aaro even more. “What would you have me do differently? I have a witness right here who says she saw him steal from your sister.”

Elodie ducked under Malou and Dorian’s arms too quick to be stopped. “You should’ve asked if the money was mine,” she said, her hands balled into fists at her side, “before you deemed it appropriate to assault him. And certainly before you searched him without a warrant, Captain.”

“So I’m assuming we can catch our train now?” Dorian asked, putting a protective arm around Elodie.

“Not until after she answers her own question. I value the truth very much, after all, so we must hear it.” Captain Nunziata tilted his cigarette toward Elodie and his gaze darted toward the Legionnaire who’d lit it for him. Solinas was what they’d called her at Brosch House. Their expert criminal hacker. She’d been quiet and had mostly trailed behind the others as they’d searched for what they’d killed Professor Brosch to obtain.

Diminutive stature, brown eyes, chestnut brown hair in a severe bun, golden beige skin, ordinary-looking, too serious, and obviously too eager to please with the way she stalked toward Elodie. Solinas didn’t look nearly as fit to hold her own as the others had been, and something like thrill surged through Malou.

“The money isn’t mine,” Elodie said quickly, but it didn’t stop Solinas from marching up to her. Neither did Dorian trying to shield the girl. Solinas grabbed a fistful of Elodie’s fur overcoat and yanked her away from him. A tiny whimper escaped Elodie’s mouth. “I said the money isn’t mine!”

Solinas’s hand rose—her lip curled, her nose scrunched—and that was a mistake. As if Malou would let anyone hurt Elodie, let alone slap her like some misbehaving child. Magic sparked on Malou’s fingertips as she decided what she’d do. She shoved Elodie behind her carefully, imagining a soft buffer preventing her from falling into the crowd. Because Solinas was slow compared to Malou’s ancestor, it was easy enough to catch the Legionnaire’s hand mid-slap while magic tingled in her muscles.

Right before she pummeled her fist into Solinas’s face, she released her hold of the magic. Skin ripped. Bone cracked. A sharp pain in her hand. Blood splattered everywhere. The Legionnaire didn’t stumble backward; she crumbled to the ground just like Juhnke and Adeyemi. She was still conscious, though, and she stared at Malou with fury raging on her bloodied face. This was the look Elder Kahina had meant, wasn’t it?

The Gendarme reached for their rapiers, and although Malou knew she should be finding an escape, a craving curled in her gut—dark and violent—itching in her fingertips and burning up her arms and legs. Her eyes met with Solinas’s and she couldn’t pull her eyes away because she was analyzing all the ways she could make the Legionnaire pay for what she helped do to Professor Brosch.

A gunshot thundered overhead and echoed through the concourse’s vaulted ceiling, tearing Malou's attention from Solinas for a moment. Was this the Libertines’ plan? Screams and cries for help erupted from all around. Whatever perimeter Captain Nunziata’s presence had cleared disappeared as people sought safety in every direction. Half of them wore all-black and donned animal masks.

Solinas was being helped to her feet, and she looked like she could barely stand on her own. It wouldn’t take much to finish her. It was what Elder Kahina would do—would tell her to do—but Dorian caught Malou by the waist.

“Stick to the plan,” he growled and forced their way through the crowd toward the trains with Elodie under his other arm. One look at his face and she knew what he was going to say before he said it. He was right on both counts. “It’d be better if I stay. Take her and go.”

Elodie tried to protest, but Malou picked her up and let the mob carry them toward their escape. They had been closer to the train than Janna or the captain had been, so they shouldn’t be able to stop them. Solinas was in no shape to follow, and Malou had a feeling her punch had done more damage than what'd been visible. There was only one problem.

Under her breath, she asked Laure, “Have you seen Professor Haddou or Gavriel? Do you know if they made it on the train?”

“You’d know if Gavriel hadn’t,” Laure answered, and it’d have to be good enough for now.

The train’s warning buzz rang against the sound of the panic that’d enveloped the concourse. They had only a minute—less now—to board, but in front of every entrance to the train stood two Gendarme who weren’t letting anyone pass without scanning their silver first. They seemed in no rush to get to everyone desperately shoving their silvers in their direction.

Malou debated whether she could do something with magic. Imagine the scanners malfunctioning? But that might make the Gendarme stop letting anyone on at all. Perhaps with all the pandemonium and Elodie in her arms, she could imagine them both invisible then sneak on without anyone noticing. Even if the security cameras caught it, it was unlikely anyone would think magic was a possible explanation. It’d also mean there’d be no evidence of them having boarded the train at all.

An arm wrapped around her shoulders and ferried her forward. Malou had half a mind to throw it off, but it was a woman with a messy red pixie cut. She was about the same age as Malou and maybe half a hand shorter than her.

“I’m here to help,” she said, raising her hand at the Gendarme until they noticed her and nodded her forward ahead of the others. At the very least, this woman could get her on the train. “Please trust me.”

When they’d elbowed their way to the entrance, Malou set Elodie down and the three offered their silvers together. The frenzy had made the process too hurried, and their information was rewarded barely a glance before they were ushered inside. The relief trickling down her spine told Malou that Gavriel had made it on board as well.

“This way,” the woman said, taking long strides down the dark wood-paneled hallway toward first class. She wore a rather plain outfit in gray—dress pants with a short frock coat—but self-assurance hung on her shoulders. She slowed when she passed each new compartment to check the label. “I should have something reserved up here… Number 25.”

“Laure,” Malou whispered, “who’s this new redhead?”

“Working on it. Didn’t catch much of her face.”

When they reached the compartment the woman was looking for, she slid open the door then sat in the far corner by one of the wide faux windows on a tufted chair upholstered in a muted slate and gold silk damask. A narrow table sat beneath the windows between the two chairs, while similarly upholstered seating lined the opposite wall. The wood paneling inside was a lighter wood than the hall.

Malou held the door open for Elodie to slip inside first. She took the chair opposite the woman while Malou sat by the door just as the train crept forward on its tracks. Hopefully, Laure had a good view of her face now. Malou’s heel bounced.

“Teo?” Elodie asked, her eyes widening as she leaned across the table. Malou’s mind went back to the letter Dorian had lying on his coffee table. “Wait—did Dorian ask you to come and help him with Janna?”

“Her name is Teodora Nunziata,” Laure interrupted. The train began to rapidly pick up speed.

“Yes, something like that,” Teo said and smiled brightly. Like this, she was much more beautiful than Janna, if only she wasn’t a Nunziata. “He asked me to help you, but I came because I wanted to come. I care about you, Elodie, and you shouldn’t have to be committed if you’re not ready.”

“She’s a Lieutenant Commander in Team 8,” Laure continued, “and serves directly beneath her older sister, Commander Fiorenza Nunziata, and her older brother, Captain Cesare Nunziata.”

Malou was standing and grabbing the new Nunziata by the shirt at the same moment. Her fist throbbed with a dull pain. “You’re here to help us? How am I supposed to believe that after what just happened with your brother? Not to mention what your sister did on my campus.”

“Malou.” Elodie had stood, and she gave Malou’s arm a soft tug. “Teo is with Dorian…”

Teo held up her hands in surrender. “I didn’t know my brother was going to be at the station, and I’m sorry about Tousieux, but I’ve been on leave. I wasn’t there. I promise. I gave my word to Dorian that I would help you get to Travorno.” She turned to Elodie. “I’m here to help you. Please believe me.”

Elodie gave another tug, and Malou forced herself to release the woman, who fell back into her seat with a thud. Malou sat again, though she was ready to do worse than grab Teo’s shirt at a second’s notice. As far as she was concerned, they’d only traded one trouble for another, and this Legionnaire seemed like the riskier companion right now.

“Why weren’t you at Valois Manor for Elodie’s engagement?” Malou asked.

“Mother doesn’t approve,” Elodie answered for Teo. “Although the Nunziata family is well-respected, she wants Dorian to commit to someone from a patrician family. Like she’s making me…”

“Can we start over, maybe?” Teo asked. She reached a hand to Malou. “I’m Teodora Nunziata. A lot of people call me Dora, but Dorian has taken to calling me Teo and I like that a lot more. You’re welcome to use it, too. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Malou, right? Dorian said you’re his favorite cousin.”

Malou ignored Teo’s hand. She wasn’t going to lock wrists with a stranger. “Malou Lamaire. I can’t say the same yet, but I can at least thank you for getting us on board. Did the Gendarme recognize you?”

Teo’s green eyes lit with girlish delight that almost immediately dissolved into apprehension. Her expressiveness made her seem easy to read. She took her hand back. “You’re welcome. Least I could do. I’m glad I could help at all. I thought I might not be able to after that move you pulled, but the Gendarme checking tickets probably couldn’t see from where they were.”

“You’ll have to accept my apology for making your job difficult.”

“If only you’ll accept mine for not stepping in as soon as that thief stumbled into Elodie.”

“He wasn’t a thief,” Malou corrected.

“Then perhaps consider that this isn’t a job for me.”

A figure caught the corner of Malou’s eye coming down the hall wearing a familiar black wool turtleneck and trench coat. She stood and slid the door open to face Gavriel. Although he visibly relaxed seeing her, his expression was grim. Where was Professor Haddou? He answered her unasked question when he stopped in front of her, his shoulders dropping as he shook his head.

Malou stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind her. She leaned close and whispered, “What happened?”

He grimaced. “I shouldn’t have worn black, that’s what.” He kept his voice low as well. They both knew it was likely there were security cameras in the hallways, so there was only so much they could say. “Not wearing a mask didn’t seem to matter. Professor Haddou stayed back so I could slip on board.” He lifted her hand to inspect her swelling knuckles, and she hissed. “What happened here?”

Malou snapped her hand back. She needed to heal this to the best of her abilities before someone noticed else and it’d be too late. “Another time. Come closer for a moment.”

Gavriel chuckled, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “You could’ve just said you wanted a hug. By the way, who’s the redhead in there with Elodie?”

She wasn’t going to complain because it worked to hide her hand from any view. “Likes to be called Teo. Full name Teodora Nunziata. Yes, she’s related to Commander Nunziata. She says she’s on leave and that Dorian asked her to help us to Travorno.”

Malou closed her eyes while she urged prickling magic into her hand to ease the pain. Probably stupid of her to have kept using it. How was she even supposed to heal this? Had she broken a bone, or had she fractured one? Could even be a sprain. The best she could do was imagine that her injured fist felt like her uninjured one until—an ache shot up her arm, then the throbbing in her hand eased in its wake.

“Do you believe her?” Gavriel asked.

She flexed her fingers. There was no pain, and so it’d have to do. “I believe Dorian asked her to help us, and I do think she wants to help Elodie. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t also want to help herself in the process.”

Was it such a stretch to assume that Teo knew as much as the other Legionnaires knew? That meant Teo could help Elodie but deliver Malou to Senator de Klijn, which would only put the Teir back within his reach.