"Like what?" I snapped. "Where we are? They know that. How many of us there are? It's not hard to guess, considering they've seen our houses. When we move, how we move?"
"Where we move," Drozel countered. "We have so many vulnerable places. The market, as an example. Our library, schools, or even the docks!"
At the side, Rymar leaned over his knees and began to scrub at his face. "She wouldn't see any of that from a cell, Drozel."
"And I don't want the riots," Jerlis reminded him. "Yes, Drozel told me all about the reaction when you passed the market. A mob? Really? What do you think our citizens will do if a Mole is left in a cell for weeks on end? Months even! Who knows how long it would take before the damned thing could learn our language!" He shook his head. "No. The last thing we need is for someone to not be arrested because she's taking up needed space. Worse, for another prisoner to be harmed when the mob tries to break in and kill her."
"So what?" I asked, lifting my eyes to his. "What exactly should we do then? Do you really want to let a chance this good go to waste? Because if I kill her, that's exactly what will happen. There is no way to get the information out of her head after I break her neck."
"So have them watch her," Drozel suggested.
That made all of us look over at him. "What?" I snapped.
Drozel gave me a smug look. "You think she's so helpless? Then move her into your house. There's three of you."
"We'd have to set a sentry every night!" I shot back. "No."
"Thought she was weak and non-threatening?" he taunted.
Clenching my jaw, I pulled in a hard breath. "That's not the same as harmless."
"Ah, and now we get to the part you were trying to avoid, hm?"
Rymar flailed both hands at Drozel. "Because you already laid it out!"
"Enough!" the Mayor snapped. Then he lifted a hand to rub at the bridge of his striped nose. "The three of you are going to give me a headache."
"Killing her is a mistake," I told him again.
"So I gather," Jerlis assured me. "Keeping her in a city building is a worse one, as far as I care. That means you have two options, Zasen. You can either keep her at your own home as a refugee, or you can build a containment facility for her somewhere else." He ducked his head and gave me a pointed look. "Far-from-town kind of somewhere else."
"Where she'd be eaten by predators," I grumbled.
Rymar groaned loudly. "C'mon, Jerlis. You know Zasen's right about this. There's no way he'd risk anyone here in Lorsa. All we need is a room with a lock, a bed, and a toilet. There has to be something."
"There's one at your place," Drozel taunted.
"That we're all using!" I sneered. "And unless you think I'm going to keep her chained up, she could easily walk out the door - or did you not think about that?"
"With the three of you keeping an eye on her?" Drozel taunted.
Jerlis just lifted a hand, halting our bickering. "He's right, Zasen. Never mind that your house is at the edge of town. She wouldn't see where, how, or even when our people move around. She wouldn't get her eyes on any of the city facilities."
"So I'm supposed to make my home into her prison?"
"As a refugee," the Mayor reminded me. "Just know that if she wanders on her own, there's a good chance someone will kill her, and I will not press charges for it."
"For murder?" Rymar snapped.
"Is it murder if we're at war?" Jerlis countered. "No, she's a Mole. If you three think she has such valuable information, then keep her safe. Otherwise, the problem will solve itself, hm?" Then he flicked his hand at the group of us. "Now get the hell out of my office and stop making my life harder."
I just looked at Drozel. "I'll remember this."
"And maybe even learn from it," he replied. "I'd think that with a sister like Jeera, you'd be the one to understand why I don't trust that pale bitch."
"Because the orin isn't anything like Jeera," I reminded him. "If she was, I would've killed her already."
"And instead, you get to test your theory. Win-win, right?" Drozel smiled, stood, and marched out of the room. "I still expect overtime for the trip, Zasen!"
I snarled under my breath, but Rymar shoved a hand into my back and propelled me forward. Together, the pair of us made our way out of the City Hall without a word. Mostly because the words I wanted to use were all going to be loud. But once we made it outside, we both turned for the clinic.
"Kanik's gonna love this," Rymar said around a chuckle.
"About as much as I do," I pointed out. "Fuck! What the hell was Drozel thinking!"
"That he hates Moles." Rymar gently reached up to rub my shoulder. "It's okay, we'll figure it out. If she's classified as a refugee, then that means she's not a prisoner, which should make turning her easier."
"And controlling her less so," I countered. "It also means she's about to be living with us."
"Then kill her," Rymar said.
I was starting to think that might be the best idea. My gut said she wasn't a threat, but I knew better. I'd studied the wars of history and had read too many examples of infiltrators who seemed harmless enough. Still, the things in her head?
"No," I decided. "If she'll talk, then that girl is worth her weight in gold."
"And if she won't?"
I scoffed at that. "Then I'll break her neck out of sheer frustration. Or you will."
