“I want to help find that girl,” I said as soon as Mychael closed the archmagus’s office door behind us.

Mychael sighed. He looked about as tired as I felt. I wasn’t the only one whose day had gone down the crapper.

“I know you want to help,” he told me. “And under normal circumstances, I would welcome that help, but—”

“I’m dangerous,” I finished for him. “And unpredictable, and infected with the Saghred.”

Mychael’s lips curled into a weary smile. “I knew you were dangerous and unpredictable the moment I met you.”

That had been last week. Our first meeting had been mistaken identity, followed by misunderstanding, ending in me kicking Mychael in the balls. Not one of my glowing moments.

“What happened today just further proves my point,” Mychael was saying. “The Nightshades are here; so are the Khrynsani. The safest place for you is in this citadel. The Khrynsani want to get their hands on you. And the same people who hired Banan Ryce to collapse that stage could have also paid him to kidnap you.” His blue eyes were hard. “Neither is going to happen.”

I took a breath and told myself to calm down. Mychael didn’t respond to emotional tirades. He was the paladin; he demanded cooperation, and respected logic. I knew a way I could give him both and still get what I wanted.

“I don’t want Banan yanking me through a mirror, either,” I told him. “I also don’t need to leave the citadel to help find that girl. Lock me in the highest tower you’ve got, have Vegard sit on me, just get me something that belongs to her, something she’s worn recently, or used, like a hairbrush. Hairbrushes are great. I don’t need to do the footwork. Your men and the city watch know this island better than I do. Just let me point them in the right direction.”