as he cocked his head. “I’m going to make a few guesses here, and you’ll tell me if I’m off the mark. Burzo didn’t know how long he was under Rhusana’s control. He didn’t know he was under her control, period. He also didn’t know what he wanted Fie’s hair for, only that he wanted to take it.” His gaze swept across all their faces. “Save your breath. I can tell I’m three for three.”
“This is why I hate spies,” Draga muttered into her hands. She turned to the rest of the tent, eyes lingering on Fie. “Before we go any further, you all need to understand that whatever you hear does not leave this tent. The Black Swans don’t deal in gossip; they deal in the kind of secrets that hold nations together. If you can’t keep those secrets, leave.”
“Unless you’re her.” Khoda nodded at Fie. “You definitely need her.”
Draga looked sore tempted to knock him out again. “Let’s get on with it. What do you know about Rhusana?”
“Not as much as I’d like,” Khoda answered, eyes on Fie and her Crane witch-tooth. For some, the truth was a knot to unwind; for others, a thorn to ease out. Fie hadn’t drawn truth from someone like Khoda before: what ought to have been stone-solid was instead slippery as an eel and thrice as hard to pin down. That made it all the harder to believe she was getting the whole truth.
“What does that mean?” Fie prodded.
“We haven’t been able to get anyone embedded close enough to her to provide hard information. If we could, the king would still be alive.”
Fie heard Jasimir suck in a breath behind her.
“The Black Swans believe in keeping the nation stable and whole,” Khoda continued, “and in preserving the rightful order. Only Phoenixes are trained to rule the kingdom, and the kingdom will only accept Ambra’s blood for a ruler. By birth and by competence, Rhusana is unfit for the throne, and we will do everything we can to keep her off it.”
Draga resumed pacing, arms folded. “At least we agree there.”
“Why were you following Fie?” Tavin asked, stony.
Khoda shrugged. His truth shifted and slid about, impossible for Fie to force to direct words. “I was already at Trikovoi, and we thought Rhusana might strike at her to distract the prince. Clearly we were right.”
“What do you know of the queen’s powers?” Jasimir asked, rubbing his chin.
“We know nothing,” Khoda answered. “We think she’s a witch. According to Swan records, her father was a Vulture, but the Swan rituals should have guaranteed she’d be born a Swan. A similar ritual should have guaranteed she’d lose her Birthright when she married into the Phoenix caste. We suspect she learned how to thwart those rituals from her mother. And if she was born a witch, with a dual Birthright like Prince Tavin”—it was Tavin’s turn to make a noise, albeit one of disgust at the word prince—“then she’d have a Swan’s ability to manipulate people and a Vulture’s command over skin.”
“So you get the skin-ghasts,” Fie concluded. They’d known for nigh two moons that the ghasts were Rhusana’s work, yet there was something dreadful in knowing how. “And no one notices her because you already have all three Swan witches. Not the most outlandish theory.”
Khoda nodded. “By our count, there should be seventy-eight Vulture witches at all times, one for each of their dead gods. According to our sources, only seventy-seven are accounted for.”
“Is it even possible?” Jasimir asked. “The dead gods founded their own castes. Can they be reborn into a different one?”
The Black Swan’s glance flicked for the briefest moment to Fie before darting away again. He said evenly, “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Fie caught her breath. It didn’t have to mean aught; maybe he’d just looked her way to gauge her focus on the tooth.
Still, Little Witness’s words echoed back to her: You are not what you were.
Whatever Khoda knew about that, she could pry out of him later, without Draga and the lordlings for an audience.
“Doesn’t matter how she got her powers, just that she’ll keep using them,” Fie said. “So where does she foul up? What are her weaknesses?”
Khoda gave an impatient sigh. “Again, we don’t have anyone close to her, so it’s hard to say. From what we’ve observed … she jumps to easy answers, and she’s prone to underestimating people she thinks beneath her. King Surimir never would have handed you Phoenix teeth.”
“Do you think she murdered my