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He breaks off, breathing heavily. “I don’t know how to stop it,” he says. “I can’t even figure out who’s funding these rebels—or why. Is this an attack on Harristan? Or is this a bid for medicine? Or both?”
So many questions—and as usual, no answers. I put a finger to my lip to think. A week ago, I might have been fighting on the side of the Benefactors. After seeing the destruction they’ve caused, I don’t know if that’s the right side either.
But Corrick is right: if he can’t stop the attacks, he has no leverage—and no way to stop the violence on either side. We need to find out who the Benefactors are.
As soon as I have the thought, I realize how to do it.
“People will talk,” I say suddenly.
“Of course,” he says. “Everyone talks.”
I shake my head quickly. “No—I mean you’ve been going about this the wrong way. You’ve been interrogating people as King’s Justice.”
“Shall I have Harristan do it?” He rolls his eyes and turns away. “I’m sure that will be much less threatening.”
“No.” I catch his arm, and he turns back to look at me. “Not Harristan.”
“Then who?”
“You and me.”
His expression turns skeptical, so I rush on. “Not as prince and . . . ?and apothecary.” I take a deep breath. “As outlaws.”
“As outlaws.”
“Yes.” I pause and stare up into his blue eyes, remembering the way they looked behind a mask. “We talk to people as Weston Lark and Tessa Cade.”
