Turned away from Falken in the dark, Nic dressed in the least wet of her clothes, dragging on damp trousers that resisted her legs. But at least now that the Divinity scouts had cleared the Bagni Bianchi, she and Falken would be free to camp safely near the hot springs’ warmth. There was no telling whether his word was genuine, of course, but that pure, raw hatred had been doubtless. If he hated the Divinity that much, then he wouldn’t squander the chance to work with her and deal the Divinity a blow. At last, she slipped her feet into soggy boots—with a shudder, then gathered her things, and followed her ears to where Falken had already begun building a camp. Even in the dark, the to-and-fro motion of his body and the crumble of soil told her he was digging a pit. She anchored a hand on her hip. “You said your people don’t use fire.” “They don’t. I do.” She knelt in the dirt and helped him. “A rebel?” “An outcast.” With a grunt, he dug with renewed vigor. “I defied the queen’s orders. They weren’t about to let me walk away with a Gaze crystal, or anything but their disapproval.” “But you still walked away.” A quiet scoff. “The dignity of our people is worth more than a shiny rock.” The dignity of our people. His queen may have allowed him to walk away, but acting against the Divinity risked more than just his own life. If he were discovered, the Grand Divinus would hardly believe he was acting on his own. No, he’d be seen as an agent of Lumia, the light-elf queendom. An assassin. And there would be reprisals. There was no telling what the queen of Lumia was like, but would his queen and his people let him rebel and potentially bring the consequences down on them for… revenge? He’d said he wanted to slay the monsters who’d mistreated his people, but he’d also said, Their cruelty will end by my hand. She frowned. Will end. “You believe the Divinity is still keeping some of your people prisoner.” He sat back, and a pensive quiet filled the stillness as a breeze chilled past. “I’ll gather some firewood.” Without another word, he rose and headed for the trees. Nox’s black breath. His people had abandoned the rest of their fellow prisoners, had chosen life for most rather than fighting for all. It was… It was a choice she could understand, but understandable didn’t mean acceptable. Falken hadn’t accepted it, and was it for the general good of his people? Or did the Divinity have someone he cared about? Either way, he didn’t seem inclined to discuss it further. His queen had allowed him to risk his life, and potentially consequences for them all, for just the chance of success. That showed utmost faith in his capabilities… and a guilt that had allowed the risk. Perhaps a reckless guilt. Falken was capable. But what did he …