“But,” Cabhan’s voice was a dull, rusted sword, and he wouldn’t meet anyone’s eye, “there’s something else you should worry about. Not pleasant, like . . .” His hand strayed to One and, finding her by his side, stroked the scales on the back of her neck with a callused thumb. “Not like this.”
“There’s more, is there?” A glint in Inis’s eyes suggested she was planning the best way to murder Cabhan and his lizard. “Out with it.”
“I believe I can answer that.” A shadow fell from the opening in the wall across the floor and sent the crawlies jittering up Rags’s spine. Morien stood at their backs, blotting out the sunlight. Two the cat hissed. Something wordless passed between him and One, unspoken explanation. Rags shuddered. Cab clenched his jaw.
Morien’s eyes surveyed the little hovel and its contents, mock pity in his eyes. For a moment, everyone remained frozen in time and place, the sorcerer’s captive, disgusted audience.
“Traitors to the crown, rejoice.” Morien gestured with a red-gloved hand. “Your Queen has found a new use for you. Or rather, for one of you.”
Inis reached over to her little sister, pulling her close to cover her eyes and ears.
And Morien did what had to be done.
41
Cab
Once again, Cab was present to watch darkness descend on House Ever-Loyal.
“Was that necessary?” he asked Morien.
If he thought he was making up for what he’d done to the Ever-Loyals by expressing helpless concern for their eldest daughter, a shard newly lodged in her heart, he was fooling himself.
The little one cried. Their manservant tried and failed to comfort her.
Cab had to get out of there. Couldn’t breathe under the weight of his guilt. Told himself he’d done what everyone expected of a deserter. Hadn’t let anyone down except himself, who didn’t matter.
“Everything I do is in service of the Queen,” Morien replied. “Would you question Her Majesty’s will?”
Yes, Cab thought, but that road led only to a yet thornier mire. Morien was implying it was the Queen behind their quest, not House Ever-Learning.
“What about Lord Faolan?” If Cab had learned anything of politics while in the Queensguard, it was always to answer questions with more questions. Made for a miserable conversation, but at least one you might survive without surrendering valuable intelligence.
“I will leave to inform him of these developments,” Morien replied, looking pleased to have won their minor standoff. His expression darkened when he glanced at Cab. “Never forget that I see all. Escape from me is impossible. Whether I am here or elsewhere, I am watching—through this.”
He touched his own chest, stared at Cab’s.
After he left, while Inis Ever-Loyal recovered, Cab set about finding the wood he needed to fix what he could mend: the wall. Rags wouldn’t go with him. “These hands aren’t for hard labor or swinging clumsy chop-chop blades around,” he’d said, and Shining Talon had refused to leave the thief’s side, so that ruled his assistance out.
Cab would have been alone, except the manservant—“Name’s Bute. It seems you’ve brought harm to my doorstep twice, sir”—had insisted on coming along. Together they trundled to the heath and chopped down slim-trunked trees, stripped them of their branches. Cab tore into the work with a dedication that made his palms bleed.
Felt nothing.
My silly boy. One’s voice floated to him from the cottage, across the clearing. Her chin rested on her front feet as she surveyed his work at a respectful distance. That’s a flaw of your kind. Always building, destroying, then destroying to rebuild . . .
This has to be done, he replied.
Does it? An artful, serpentine shrug.
Cab wiped sweat off his brow with his forearm, taking stock of the materials. The pile of wood was nearly waist high. Enough to start.
Bute clamped a hand on his shoulder before Cab could head back up the hill.
“If you bring more death to this family,” he said under his breath, “I don’t care who’s on your side, what sorcerer’s working with you, or”—he gestured to One—“what that thing can do. I’ll hold you accountable. You understand me?”
“On my life,” Cab replied.
They worked through the night. By sunup, they had the basic structure of the wall back in place.
On shaky feet, Inis stepped out to join them at work. (Anything, Cab suspected, to ignore the mirror in her heart and the voice in her head until she was ready to face both.) She was handy with a hammer, and Cab stayed out of her way, letting Bute move