The door to my chambers whips open. Tug sweeps in, hand on his scabbard, every muscle tensed. He takes in Lady Calmi and me, my knife still inches from her throat, my fingers wrapped around her hair. As the guard appears behind him, Tug kicks the door shut in his face.

"You're putting the knife to good use, I see," he says. Unlike the soldier, Tug's scabbard lies on his belt at a horizontal angle. The hilt meets the blade in a small fold of metal rather than a cross. He stands steadfast, taking in the smear of blood between Calmi's eyebrows, the basket of herbs, Lady Calmi's beauty. My heart pounds, but the adrenaline rush is over. I am starting to tremble. My body is still weak with poison.

Lady Calmi and the Prince betrayed the King and his army so they could kill Lord Strik. Should I believe her? A lifetime of brutality and fear might explain Lady Calmi's decision, but what reason could the Prince have for such a treacherous endeavour?

"Lady Calmi?" Tug says. I clench my teeth. How did he know it was her, yet I missed it? Frowning, I release her hair.

"The assassin's assistant," she says to Tug, stepping back from the divan, lowering her eyes in a greeting of respect. Tug's gaze flicks to mine, trying to catch up with what is happening. "The Prince should not have hired you," Calmi continues. "It makes no difference you are a girl. You will not get near Grandfather. He has four skilled assassins guarding him at all times."

Energy drains from my body. I sink to the divan. My forehead burns. A cold sweat breaks across me.

"It's the poison," Calmi says. "The antidote needs more time to neutralise the effects. You gained mobility far quicker than expected."

Tug straightens, left hand moving for his scabbard.

"Otherwise," Calmi continues, oblivious to his reaction, "you would not have caught me by surprise." She brushes a finger over the cut between her eyebrows. "I will not underestimate you again."

Tug sweeps the scabbard to his side, pops the guard, twists the sword away from his body and draws it without a sound. The curved blade swings high in the air and comes down as he lunges towards her.

I bite my lip to stop myself from shouting. I don't want the Queen's soldier bursting into my chambers. Tug means to scare Lady Calmi, not injure her, but the strike is startlingly close.

Calmi flinches, wide eyes fixed on the silver steel, which is now a fingernail's width from her neck. Tug's grip is steady, not a shadow of a doubt in him at the skill he wields, or how close he has come to drawing blood.

"What is the name of the poison?" he demands.

"Blue Death."

"Show me the antidote."

She glances at the blade, expressing her will with nothing but a look. Tug understands as well as I do. He arcs the sword away, his movements precise, smooth, though I imagine it has been half a lifetime since he last used such a weapon.

I notice now he is close-shaved. His long hair washed and trimmed. He wears black trousers and a white shirt, wide sleeves drawn in at the wrists. It is the traditional dress for Carucan mourning, reminding me we are expected to attend the King's ceremony of departure in less than an hour.

Lady Calmi hooks out a necklace from beneath her dress. A thumb sized phial dangles on the end. She unscrews the lid and hands Tug the miniature bottle. He sniffs, dabs the liquid on his tongue. Then hands back the bottle, neither of them saying a word. But he is satisfied, because he returns the sword to its scabbard. He withdraws from the center of the room to stand before the closed bedroom door.

I wonder if he's playing his role as assassin's assistant. Calmi takes his retreat as a signal to continue talking.

"The Eteans were supposed to capture the King, not kill him," she says. "But Prince Jakut knew the risks. My grandfather is not a man of his word. And when he arrives, he will want to know what happened to the men he placed inside the Prince's escort. If he suspects Jakut had anything to do with their disappearance, he will be displeased."

Tug steps forward, not able to bite his tongue and stay out of matters for long.

"Am I to deduce that you and the Prince are such fools you have duped Lord Strik, and invited him to the Ruby Court so you may kill him?"

"Someone must try."

"Many have tried. Strik still lives."

"It is not a reason to give up."

"And who will actually murder your grandfather, if you manage to get him alone?" Tug stalks towards Calmi, muscles rippling as he makes his full height and presence felt. "You? The Prince? The Prince isn't capable, and if you were, you would have done it already."

"Grandfather is surrounded by skilled assassins. Even in his home, even when he sleeps. I've tried other ways, spent years learning all kinds of poisons—those hardest to detect. Two food tasters died. When my grandfather realized I was behind the poisonings, I was punished."

The corner of her eye twitches. I expect "punished" does not capture the trauma she was put through. She is telling us all this to gain our trust. She does not realize I am Uru Ana and have already seen the hate she bears for Lord Strik.

"A score of men as strong and able as yourself," she says to Tug, "would not be enough to stop him. Besides, Grandfather suspects everyone. It would be impossible to get close enough. And if you did, just one word from his mouth would halt you in your tracks. But the Prince is different."

"Why?" I ask, my voice husky.

She fiddles with the handle of her medicine basket. "Grandfather wants him," she says after a short pause. "He has heard of the Prince's reputation in the Ruby Court. A reputation fostered by King Alixter. Weak, frivolous, lustful, arrogant. The ideal puppet for ruling Caruca. He doesn't think Jakut is smart enough to be the enemy. And he assumes the Prince's desire for the throne is driven by greed and lust."

I shake my head, biting the inside of my cheek. Let us hope Jakut has more than a bad reputation to protect him!

"If Prince Jakut has told you nothing of this," Calmi says, "nor hired you as reinforcement, why are you here?"

Tug scratches once down the side of his clean-shaven jaw. Neither of us will answer her question. She is Strik's granddaughter. She may want him dead, but she cannot know the Prince has lost his memory. Not yet. Perhaps never.

"What has kept Lord Strik from the Red City?" I ask.

"He was cast out of Rudeash as a young man. He is kept out by a power greater than his own. Perhaps it is this power, or something similar that protects the Red City."

I glance at Tug. The tattoos replacing his brows flex. He went to Rudeash and found no one in the Rudeashan kingdom with powers similar to Lord Strik. Heard no rumours of such things. He does not believe her.

"If such a power exists," I say, "why did you speak of your grandfather's imminent arrival? The city is protected."

"I lived in his house for fourteen years. I watched him grow bolder, greedier, crueller. He has been gathering forces all across the country. His lands have grown closer and closer to the Red City. The power keeping him away weakens. I am convinced he sent me here as part of a larger plan to seize the kingdom."

"We have come from the north," Tug says, "travelled hundreds of miles across the kingdom and never seen or heard of any such armies."

"Grandfather is prudent. My friendship with Prince Jakut has given him an unexpected opportunity to advance his plans. But with or without us, he will not strike in an expected manner. The Red City will be under siege before the Queen even knows what's happening. And when he attacks, it will not be unarmed soldiers that die. But men, women, children who have no means of defending themselves."

Tug and I exchange a look.

"You think it isn't possible?" she continues. "Thirty years ago Grandfather turned Caruca against a peaceful people using only lies, fear and rumour. He manipulated King Rex to outlaw the Uru Ana, and it was the King's soldiers and the Carucans themselves who did the rest—burning Uru Ana, chasing them from their homes, arresting them.

What Grandfather really wanted was slave labor to harvest his lands and work in the crystal tundra mines. He will do the same again. He will use the ignorance of the people to take the throne. And we will all become his slaves."

I shiver. The poison has depleted me and left me in a cold sweat, but it is the memory of the peasants near Strik's castle that pushes a frosty hand through my chest, turning my insides to ice. The way they'd all stirred when Strik's presence grew near. Their minds like giant paper-houses. Empty, abandoned.

"The King had his chance to stop my grandfather," Lady Calmi says. "He did not dare stand against him. Now it is up to the Prince."

"The fields the peasants worked were not guarded," I say. "How does your grandfather stop the Uru Ana from escaping?"

"Their water supply is contaminated with mist berries. Their memories are constantly dulled and erased. They are like lost children. They can't even remember from one day to the next what has happened to them."

Her words cut the back of my throat. Lord Strik has enslaved hundreds, perhaps thousands of Uru Ana. Stolen their memories, their identities, carved out their souls and left empty vessels working his lands.

I think of all the Uru Ana babies born into slavery, knowing nothing but emptiness, black fog, hard toil, and fear. Not even understanding the concept of freedom, which was stolen from them at birth.

Tears well in my eyes. I wipe them quickly, haul myself up, and stagger to the balcony. My whole body trembles as I gasp at the warm air.

"How many of the royal council members are under Lord Strik's influence?" I ask, my back turned to Calmi.

"One. Of the other two I do not know."

"Wait outside," I tell her. I listen to bottles chinking as she collects her basket. The chamber door clicks shut. When she has left, I return inside.

"You should leave the Red City," I say to Tug. "Take this news back to Lyndonia."

"And what will you do?"

"I will convince Jakut he must arrest the Queen."

"So you are buying Calmi's story?"

"I saw her memories. She does not lie. She desires Strik's death more than anything. The Prince has been trying to do what his father would not. You have been prejudiced against Jakut from the very beginning."

Tug's jaw line hardens. "He is guilty or he would not have performed the Carucan cleansing."

"Guilt is not the only reason a man turns to faith." Tug looks fixedly at me. I meet his gaze with a hard stare.

"Strik acts under the supposition the Prince wants the throne and his granddaughter's hand," I say. "Now the Queen carries an heir to the throne, Prince Jakut's only course of action is to convince the council to arrest her. This way he assures the crown for himself. Lord Strik will expect it. I will convince Jakut he must gain the council's consent. While he is swaying them, I will warn Queen Usas to leave the Red City."

Tug grabs my wrist. Pain shoots through my arm. My body contorts to lessen the agony. I lose my grip on the knife. He snatches it, disarming me.

"You are barely strong enough to stand," he says, drawing up close. "And incapable of defending yourself. Calmi may want her grandfather dead, but we can't be sure she is not also under the influence of his power. If you get anywhere near Strik, he will destroy you."

"Like he destroyed you?" I hiss, pushing him in the chest, furious with him, with the world. Anger barrels through me. I'm not an idiot! If something goes wrong, and Strik arrives before I make it out of the Red City, he will finish the job he started with the bird-men. I'll be defenceless. Unable to resist the power in his voice. And death would not be the worst possible fate. What if I were dragged into the black hole of his mind and never got out again?

But I will not run away. I cannot do nothing, like all those who watched the kingdom exterminate and crush my people.

"You made me a promise," I say, pushing Tug back from where he swamps me with his great bulk. He is like a brick wall, fixed in place, penning me in. "You made me a promise."

"I did not promise to let you get yourself killed." His chest rises and falls in line with my shoulders. I try to steady my breathing. I need his agreement. I need him to tell me he will go back for Kel. I struggle for something I can say to sway him, and find nothing. Frustration seethes through me.

"Why have you come to the Ruby Court?"

"I will write to Elise," he says, ignoring my question. "A carrier pigeon will arrive faster."

"And who will take Kel to Blackfoot Forest?"

"You will. As soon as we have convinced Jakut to arrest the Queen, and got the Queen out of the Red City."

He does not believe Strik can be defeated. He does not believe Jakut is strong enough for this deadly plan. So why is he agreeing to help?

"Why are you really here, Tug?" I glare at him, but I know he won't answer. He never answers! When I break his steady gaze and look away, he speaks.

"You remind me of the man I was. A man I'd forgotten."

"And what man is that?" I say tartly.

"A man who had hope."

I should laugh in his face, call his bluff. But I cannot. His words strike a chord deep inside me.

"You want me to trust you?" I ask.

"I want you to trust me."

"Then why did you betray me to Duchess Elise?"

"Kel is safer now than if you two were roaming the country with his eyes unsettled. And when given the choice by the Prince, you chose to come here. As betrayals go, you did not come off too badly, Mirra."

Hi there! As this should have been posted Friday and it's now Monday, I've decided to post tomorrow's update today to make it up to you. Thanks for understanding. With my Teen Time Loop novel, "My Backward Life", coming out this week things have been hectic!