The Tyrant's Law (Dagger and the Coin)

clearer and the knot in her belly less likely to lead to vomiting again. Fallen leaves crackled under her feet and skittered away from her toes where she kicked them.
    “We have to make contingency plans,” Isadau said, “in the event I am detained by the new magistrate.”
    “Why?” Cithrin asked.
    “Because she’s going to be detained by the new magistrate,” Yardem said.
    “She doesn’t have to be,” Cithrin said. “She can go to Carse.”
    “I won’t abandon my city,” Isadau said. “I know that I can’t help for much longer. But so long as I can, I will. If anything, it’s you who should leave. I’ve written to Komme. He agrees that losing two of his magistras is worse than losing one.”
    “I won’t leave you,” Cithrin said. “I won’t go while you’re here.”
    “Then I’m afraid Komme is going to have a very unpleasant year,” Isadau said. Jurin stepped into the garden and nodded to Isadau. The magistra rose to her feet. “Please excuse me,” she said, and followed her brother out.
    Cithrin kicked a small pile of leaves. Her mind felt like a cat in a cage, pacing, looking for a pathway out because she wanted it to be there more than from the expectation that it would be.
    “She’s doing exactly what Marcus said,” Cithrin said. “She’s fighting battles and losing wars.”
    “She knows she’s doomed. She’s made that choice. Her informants are already being caught up. I’ll be surprised if they don’t come for her by next Tenthday.”
    “God damn that woman,” Cithrin said. “That stubborn, senseless—”
    “If she can save one more child before she falls, it will have been worth it to her. And there’s no one else who can do what she’s doing. She knows the city. She knows the people. It’s the only advantage she has, and in most conditions, it would be significant.”
    “It’s going to get her killed.”
    “It is.”
    Cithrin said something obscene, then she stopped. Yardem’s ears went flat.
    “Magistra?”
    “I know people too,” she said.
Dear Geder—
I’m sorry I haven’t written to you sooner. At first it was that I was so busy with the business of the bank that even though I kept meaning to, I never seemed to find the time. And then, after it had been so long, I started feeling awkward about it having been so long. I know it sounds stupid, and I suppose it is. But there you have it. I didn’t write, and I’m sorry for it, and I’m writing you now.
And, to make matters worse, I’m writing to ask a favor. Since last we saw each other, I’ve been reassigned within the bank. I am now the voice of the Medean bank in Suddapal, which I believe technically makes me one of your subjects. And while I understand the need for security, I’ve found some of your commanders here a bit difficult to work with. They have military minds, which is all well and good for what they’re doing, but difficult for someone trying to run a business. I was wondering if you could put in a good word for me? If you could even just assure them that I’m not involved in any devious conspiracies against you, I think it would make things better all around, and not only for me.
Tell Aster I miss him, and you, and that terrible cat-piss stinking hole we lived in. Who would ever have guessed those would be the good old days?
Your friend, Cithrin bel Sarcour
    “You. Are. Mad ,” Isadau said as she sat at her desk, the draft of the letter in her hand. Her face had gone ashen.
    “It’s a better plan than yours,” Cithrin said. “I didn’t put together your network. I can say that without lying, and so I can talk around any hard questions better than you. And if Geder does this, his people will think twice before they come too near to the bank. None of those are advantages you have, and they aren’t ones you can get. These are mine. Your advantages are that more people know your role and are in a position to betray you; you’re Timzinae, and Geder’s decided to hate the Timzinae; and … well? What else? That may be all you have to bring to the table.”
    “Cithrin, you must not do this.”
    “How long is it going to be before your network collapses? Weeks? Days? I can keep some version of it running for months at least. Maybe more. I can do it better than you can. Forget about me. Forget about the bank. If your work falls in a week, who will help the people a month from now? If you leave and leave now, there will still be help for them. If you stay, you’re