Silently, Roxa stepped out of the shadows and faced the figure that stood in the wide fountain court.

At her appearance, the newcomer flitted into a familiar stance, her hand dropping to a hidden hilt.

“Mariah?” Roxa uttered disbelievingly. A pause. “Of course she would send you.”

Her ex relaxed a little, but didn’t remove her hand. “Roxa.” It was not a question, but a statement, in a tone that brooked no quarrel. “Are we alone?”

“There’s no one else here—no one conscious at least.”

Mariah smirked at her. “That was quick work.”

Roxa shrugged. “Did you see how long I had to put up with his company? I could hardly stand another minute.”

“And what of the girl?”

“She’ll be back soon.”

“Didn’t quite seem your type.”

Roxa snorted. “Can you believe it? Honestly, that was insulting. Like having a platter of raw meat dangled in front of my face and being expected to perform indiscriminate salivation.”

Mariah laughed, a bright sound in the soft-setting twilight.

“It’s been while since we last talked,” Roxa said cautiously, after a moment.

“Just over a handful of moons,” Mariah shrugged. “But a lot has changed, it’s true.”

They were both silent.

“Come on, follow me,” Roxa broke it first. “This is no place to tarry.”

Mariah nodded slowly and Roxa turned and led the way, deeper into the hedge maze. The last faint glimmers of dusk were rapidly giving way to the full darkness of night as they padded softly through the short, wet grass.

“How have you been?” The question sounded awkward enough that Roxa stifled a wince almost as soon as she asked it.

“Busy,” said Mariah shortly. “Drago is dangerous, unsteady ground for us right now.” She shot Roxa a hard look. “You’ve pulled me away at a crucial time, you know.”

“It’s good to see you too,” Roxa snapped, and instantly regretted it.

“This is no game, Roxa,” retorted Mariah. “Stop playing. Drawing me out this way is dangerous for both of us. Why did you risk my cover?”

Roxa tried not to flinch. “My mother must have briefed you.”

“On your assignment here? Yes.”

Roxa turned to look at her. This was going worse than she’d hoped. “Well, I’ve found an asset for her.”

Mariah snorted. “And you needed me to come out here to tell me that? The Countess will not be pleased.”

“Trust me,” Roxa muttered. “When she realizes who I’m going to give her, she’ll change her tune.”

Mariah frowned. “You haven’t answered my first question. You could have put all this in a letter. Instead you requested a grayed up cutter from Countess Mora’s fleet to stand by offshore, in case you needed a naval extraction. Did you do that just to get your mother to send an operative to check on you?”

Roxa hesitated.

Mariah glared at her. “That’s serious, Roxa.”

“I wasn’t being frivolous about that,” Roxa protested. “My risk here is escalating beyond what I can handle by myself.”

She shot Roxa a piercing look. “Interesting. You’re not usually so quick to cry for help, at least for yourself.”

Roxa looked away, shaking her head in frustration. “Do you think I’m making this up?”

“You’re not telling me the whole story.” She gestured impatiently behind them. “And pulling that public farce to draw me out? Don’t you realize how much is at stake with our negotiations in Drago? How great our need is?”

“Look, Mariah.” Roxa sighed. “The truth is, I need to make a deal, and I don’t have the time for a lengthy back-and-forth with my mother via encrypted correspondence, trying to convince her to listen to me.”

“Make a deal?” Mariah stared at her. “With me?”

“Yes. I’ve made a powerful enemy here—”

“Oh, I know all about that.” Mariah waved dismissively. “You’re in some foolish tiff with that Prefect. Congratulations, Roxa. Well done. Is that what you want? My help to neutralize your schoolgirl nemesis?”

Roxa gritted her teeth. “She’s made attempts on my life, Mariah, and nearly succeeded. Does that not matter to you one wit?”

“Of course it matters,” Mariah snapped. “But do you think you’re the only one having to foil assassination attempts? Things are really bad right now for all of us, and you’re out here trying to make transactions?” Her mouth quirked bitterly. “Classic selfishness, Roxa.”

Roxa flinched. “At least you’re not alone in Drago, surrounded by a whole staff. I’m having to figure this all out by myself.”

Mariah threw up her hands. “Fine. So, you want my help with your quarrel. And in return, you’ll actually recruit an asset like you were supposed to?”

“Yes, but not just some clerk, Mariah.”

“Who, then?”

Roxa took a deep breath. “Aralia Cordivar.”

Mariah stared at her. “You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“You have leverage over her?”

Roxa nodded as confidently as she could, trying to convey unbreachable certainty.

“Tell me.” There was an edge of hunger in Mariah’s voice. “Tell me what makes you so sure that you can turn an Imperiati savant, the mastermind of the entire alchemical Special Research division?”

“She’s using her security clearance to comb Imperiat prison records, in secret, looking for specific names,” said Roxa quietly. “Jyllish names. Why, I don’t yet know, but once I do, I'll have proof of treason, enough that exposing it would mean her position, if not her life.”

Mariah gave a tight nod. “Impressive,” she acknowledged grudgingly. “But you’ll need more than that to control her.”

“I’ll have it soon, and I’ll give her to you,” said Roxa firmly, “but first I need your help with Penelope Caul.”

Mariah eyed her. “You say this Prefect girl has tried to kill you?”

Roxa nodded. “I’ve fought off multiple ambushes. A day or two ago I had to kneecap some of her goons. She’s out for blood.”

“You know I have to tell the Countess about this, right?”

Roxa drew herself up. “Go right ahead, but don’t wait for her permission.”

Mariah’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t think to command me, Roxa. I’m here to bring you to heel, and I’m authorized to wield your mother’s name and power to do so.”

Roxa met her gray steel with green fire. “Penelope Caul is more of a threat than either of you know. If you dare tell my mother anything that downplays that and she decides to countermand you, I’ll simply call off this whole operation, pack my bags for Dropwater Pass, and deny you Aralia Cordivar. So have a care with what you put in your reports.”

Mariah hissed in frustration. “War is coming, Roxa. Are you a sworn blade of the Duchy or are you not? We do our duty, we don’t negotiate favors.”

Roxa folded her arms. “Start surveillance on Penelope tonight. I want to know her dining habits, her favored routes between classes, her nasty vices, how loud she snores—everything.”

Mariah’s lip curled. She started to say something cutting, and then swallowed it just as quickly. “Very well.”

“Where are you staying, and under what name?”

Only a slight hesitation. “I’ve a room at the Red Diamond. Madison Strake.”

“Expect to hear from me in no more than a few days,” warned Roxa. “I’ll expect tangible progress.”

Mariah rolled her eyes and turned to leave.

“Pleasure to see you, too,” shot Roxa at her departing back.

Then, more quietly, “Damn it.”