" I wish things could be different." Kiara said, watching Tris fasten his heavy cloak. Below their window, in the courtyard, she could already hear the clamor of the army readying to leave for war.
Tris wrapped his arms around her and kissed her, lingering in the moment. She didn't need a healer's gift to recognize the tension in his shoulders. The campaign was unlikely to move smoothly. "So do I. But we both know there's no choice."
A month had passed since their wedding, just long enough for the healers to be certain that she carried the child of the king. Just a few days before, the same courtyard had been filled with cheering people as Zachar, weak and barely able to return to his duties, announced that the king and queen were expecting. All the hope and happiness that announcement should have brought were dimmed by the knowledge that it meant Tris was now free to wage war.
"You have Cerise and Malae to look after you," Tris said, stroking Kiara's hair. "Zachar's not well, but Crevan's handled things so far. Mikhail will be here to help, Carroway and Harrtuck will watch out for you. And the dogs will keep you company." He absently reached down to touch the wolfhound's head as the big dog nosed in between them, jealous for attention. "I've asked Comar Hassad to have'the ghosts watch over you as well. You'll be safe here." He forced a smile. "You both will."
"It's you I'm worried about," Kiara said, reluctantly stepping back from their embrace. "You're a king now. And a father. Don't take any foolish chances."
"Did Soterius tell you to say that? He and Mikhail have been lecturing me for days now. Ban wants to keep me so far behind the lines that I won't even be able to see Curane's manor. With luck, we'll break them quickly and it won't come to outright war."
They both knew that was unlikely. "You have a reason to come back in one piece," she said quietly.
"More than one. But I can't leave Curane in place. He's not just a threat to me, and to Margolan, but he's also a threat to the next king—or queen—as well."
"I know. But I don't have to like it."
"Neither do I." A knock at the door made him hurry to gather his cloak. He was dressed for the outside cold, with a winter-weight tunic and trews beneath his mail shirt. A breastplate with the king's coat of arms blazoned across his chest. The rest of his armor—and that of the army—waited in the long train of wagons outside the courtyard. The knock came again, more insistent this time.
"Be careful," he whispered, giving her a last kiss good bye. "I'm looking forward to a warm welcome when I get home."
Despite herself, Kiara smiled as he drew away. "Count on it. But you'd better go before Soterius breaks down the door."
Coalan, not Soterius, waited in the hallway. "The men are ready to ride." Coalan was dressed for the journey as the king's valet, and Tris noticed the new sword that hung beneath Coalan's cloak, a gift from Soterius.
Tris followed Coalan, pausing for one backward glance. Kiara waved and smiled bravely. Down in the courtyard, the army and all its retainers spilled out of the bailey and down onto the road. Four thousand men at arms and their horses, plus squires, cooks, drivers, and armorers. Wagons were filled with food for men and horses, weapons, armor, tack, clothing, bedding, and tents. Pack mules and extra horses added to the procession, plus two wagons for the half-dozen mages who had defied the Sisterhood and volunteered for the battle. Come nightfall, Tris knew, dozens of vayash moru would join them. Vyrkin, too. Pennants flew overhead and the crowd that gathered had a festival air to it.
"Everything's ready," Soterius said, coming alongside Tris. "Awaiting your signal."
Tris nodded. Coalan brought his horse and held it while Tris swung up to the saddle. "Let's ride." He glanced behind him. Kiara stood on the balcony. It's the role she's schooled for all her life. Queen of Margolan. And Goddess knows, it will take everything she's got to hold the court together while I'm gone.
Kiara watched the army stream from the palace courtyard. The long procession wound its way through the gates and down the road from the palace city until the road rose and the figures disappeared from sight. She finally turned back toward her rooms, surprised to see Cerise waiting with a woolen wrap. Tris's dogs followed her. The two wolfhounds were first to claim a spot near the fire in the sitting room. The mastiff ambled his way toward the hearth, circling before he lay down.
"It'll hardly do for you to catch a chill," Cerise said, holding the wrap for her. "It's a bit warmer here than in Isencroft, but hardly warm enough to stand outside. Make has tea for us. You look a bit peaked, dear."
Malae was waiting with tea and cakes set out on the table for the three of them. "Not much that a good cup of tea can't help, I always say."
Kiara sank down into a chair, snuggling the wrap around herself. "Was it like this for mother, when father had to go out on campaign?"
"Every time, my dear," Cerise replied.
"Except that your mother favored port over tea on such an occasion," Malae added.
"I remember father being gone for months at a time when I was a child. But mother never let on that anything was wrong. For all I knew, he was out on a hunt."
Malae reached over to pat her hand. "Viata didn't want you to worry. After you were asleep, we would often sit up the whole night with her when your father was at war. Whenever he was able to send a letter, she would read it over and over, looking for hidden clues about how things were really going. It was worse when you were old enough to go with him. She worried about you both. But she kept up a brave front. As you must, my dear."
"I know. I tried not to let Tris know how afraid I am for him."
Cerise placed her hands on Kiara's shoulders. Kiara could feel Cerise's healing magic flow through her, into the stiff muscles of her back and neck. It warmed her even more than the tea, and she shrugged off the wrap as the warmth of the nearby fireplace took the last of the chill.
"You have your own battles here," Malae said. "Your first job is to stay safe."
"That's not something mother did very well, was it," Kiara said wistfully, sipping her tea. She knew that Viata's ghost was nearby.
"She did everything in her power to make it easier for you," Cerise said, settling down beside Kiara. "And you have friends here. Tonight, Bard Carroway is giving a concert in your honor."
"Speaking of which—who changed the necklace I set out?" Malae said, picking up a piece of jewelry from where it lay on the bed next to Kiara's gown for the evening. There was a cool wind, and out of the corner of her eye, Kiara caught a glimpse of a young woman in a servant's dress.
"Seanna, is that you?" Kiara asked. Unseen hands smoothed the gown's skirt. "Tris told me you'd look after me," Kiara said although she could not see the ghost. "Did you choose the necklace?" The fire suddenly grew brighter, as if a gust of air had blown on it. "I'll take that as a yes. Thank you."
Kiara turned to the others. "Tris told me that Seanna has been lady in waiting to several generations of Margolan's queens. So I guess we'd better get used to her having an opinion."
There was a knock at the door. The wolfhounds jumped to their feet as Malae answered the door to find Crevan waiting. "May I come in?" Crevan regarded the dog watchfully. The mastiff made no noise, but he padded toward Crevan, head down.
"Of course," Kiara replied, laying aside her tea. "I was expecting Zachar."
"Unfortunately, the pace of these last few days has been too much for Zachar. He's had a setback. Almost had to carry him back to bed." Crevan shook his head. "I'm afraid he's not well at all, but we'll carry on. You have guests for dinner tonight—Bard Carroway, Lady Eadoin, and her niece, Lady Alysandra. Mikhail will join us at some point. Captain Harrtuck asked me to let you know he's hand-picked your guards, and that he'll be among them at every opportunity." Crevan smiled. "I'm afraid your duties as queen are just beginning, Your Majesty."
Every night, Carroway's band of musicians played through dinner. In the two weeks since Tris left with the army, they had not repeated a set, and Kiara was as impressed at the musicians' ability as she was intrigued at the obvious camaraderie among them. Kiara watched, entranced, as Macaria played her flute. She remembered Carroway's high praise for the girl, and thought it was colored by his obvious and unrequited interest in her. But as Macaria played a lilting folk tune, Kiara felt the stirrings of magic in the air. The room's temperature dropped; Macaria's music was drawing the ghosts of Shekerishet. Those spirits who could made themselves visible. Among them, Kiara glimpsed Seanna, smiling and swaying to the music.
"It's wonderful how music lifts the mood, don't you think?" Make said.
"It certainly is." Kiara had just enough magic of her own to sense the power in Macaria's music. As beautiful as it was, more than just the song was affecting the crowd's emotions. Macaria's playing seemed to lift her mood. At first, she had thought it due to the girl's expert playing. Now, she was sure it was magic. Car-roway knows the power of her playing. Bless him. It's no accident he's been sending her to play for me in the evenings. When Macaria finished, Carroway motioned for her to join them.
"Your playing is beautiful," Kiara said as Macaria took her seat.
"Thank you, m'lady."
"There's magic in it, isn't there? Mood magic."
"The magic's always been there. My grandmother gave me a pennywhistle when I was a little girl. I was the youngest of ten, so no one noticed if I strayed off into the- woods for hours at a time, playing. I don't remember when I realized that the music brought the ghosts near. It charms the animals too, although to a lesser degree. I discovered that the day I saw a wolf! I didn't know what to do and I was scared, so I kept on playing. I played a quiet song and he just sat down and looked at me until I was finished."
"So the magic influences the mood of your listeners?"
"I can't actually control someone's mood— and it wouldn't be right to do it even if I could. But I can enhance a good mood, and encourage a better mood if someone's in a bad one." She grinned. "It works best if the listeners don't think about it. Once you know, you can choose not to be affected. Most people never realize it. They just know they really liked the music, and they're more generous with the coins in my hat to show it!"
Carroway laughed. "Can you believe someone with her gift was playing in the street? I brought her to the queen as soon as I found her."
"Carroway was my patron. I'll always be grateful for that." Kiara noticed that Carroway looked away at Macaria's words, and a shadow seemed to cross his expression. Something else is going on there. Something keeping them apart. But what?
"You're not eating, my dear." Lady Eadoin looked pointedly at the food Kiara had pushed from one side of her plate to another.
Kiara sighed. "I haven't been feeling well."
"That's to be expected. It will pass." She reached into the small, elaborately beaded bag at her belt and withdrew a velvet pouch. "A gift, if it pleases my queen."
Kiara opened the pouch. A polished agate disk was bound in a shield knot to a thin leather strap.
"An amulet, my lady, for safe childbirth," Eadoin said. "The child you bear will draw notice in this realm and the next. A king's heir—and the heir of power to a Summoner. You must be careful. The agate is a warding against a difficult birth. Knotted so, it's a charm against the attention of dark spirits." Cerise gently took the necklace from her' and tied the charm around her neck.
"Your mother told me that she believed it was the amulet she wore that made it possible for her to deliver you safely," Eadoin said. "I would be a poor friend to her memory not to look after you."
"Thank you. From both of us."
"I've heard it said that a bowl of salted water, laid at the foot and head of the bed, will protect the babe from spirits," Alle said.
"I've already put that in place."
"Poor Carroway!" Alle laughed. "He'll think he's dining with a gaggle of midwives!"
Carroway grinned. "You've no idea how many times I've been called to play for one of the court ladies in labor. But I've always been glad for the curtain between us when I hear their cries!"
Make yawned and glanced at Kiara. "If it please the queen, I'd like to head back to the room and lay out clothing for tomorrow. This late feasting is not for an old lady like me."
Kiara herself was in no hurry to return. Carroway, Macaria, Eadoin and Alle were lively company, and it helped to take her mind off Tris's absence. Her sleep had been fitful the night before, her dreams disquieting. She was content to let the others banter. Although dinner had been one of Bian's specialties, Kiara found that she was nauseous all of the time, despite Cerise's best attempts.
"Carroway's not the only one to get called when a lady's birthing," Alle said. "Had more than a few travelers give birth at the inn while I was working there. The food they'd call for! Tea and cakes, pickles and sausage, candied fruit and rum—all at once. Never could figure out whether they actually ate it or whether calling for me to fetch it gave them something to take their mind off their labor."
Dressed as she was for court, it was difficult to imagine Alle as Soterius first met her, spying for the Margolan rebels as a serving wench in a tavern near the Principality border. Alle was as vivacious as her Aunt Eadoin, with the same blonde hair and infectious laugh. Kiara was not surprised to glimpse a locket on a chain around Alle's neck engraved with the crest from Soterius's shield.
Carroway glimpsed the locket as well and gave Alle a wicked grin. "Perhaps all that experience will come in handy once Ban returns from the war and that locket becomes a ring."
"Perhaps. Or maybe some other tavern wench will put a knife to his throat and steal his heart like I did!"
Kiara laughed. It felt good, a welcome change. The days leading up to the army's departure had felt leaden. Tris had been consumed with the planning for war. The generals considered the pregnancy to be one more item completed from their checklist. Now Tris and the army were gone, and might not return until after the birth. "Many a king's gone to put down a rebellion and returned no worse for the wear," Eadoin said with an encouraging smile. "Don't borrow grief."
"I've heard it said that sweet music is heard even before birth," Carroway said. "So we're sworn, Halik, Macaria, and I, to perform for you every day while Tris is gone." He grinned. "With your permission, I've assigned Macaria as your personal bard. And I took care of the scheduling matter you mentioned earlier."
"Oh?" Cerise asked.
Kiara sighed. "I asked Carroway to see if I could have private time in the salle before dawn. Mikhail is the only one here who knows the Eastmark fighting style. He's offered to train with me—as long as I'm able. In Isencroft, women train in the salle until they go into labor, and they swear their labor is shorter for it. I thought it might take my mind off things."
"Will the good ladies of the Margolan court be scandalized?"
"Not one of them gets up before dawn, I promise you." Alle laughed. "And if it pleases you, I'll also stay at court. I would be happy to make introductions. It would be an honor."
Kiara glanced at Carroway, who was suspiciously interested in the reflection of candlelight on his goblet. "And you didn't have a hand in it at all," she said, raising an eyebrow.
Carroway sighed theatrically. "Guilty as charged, m'lady."
Kiara laughed. "I would be very pleased. Thank you."
Carroway beamed, and Kiara intercepted a triumphant look between Eadoin and the bard. Just then, there was a knock at the door to the small salon where they were dining. A servant went to answer. Kiara and the others turned to see Mikhail framed in the doorway, a grim expression on his face. He bowed to Kiara and gave a nod in recognition to the others.
"What's the matter, Mikhail?" Kiara asked, rising.
Mikhail looked from Kiara to Carroway. "Zachar is dead."
Carroway's eyes grew wide. "But he was well enough just two days ago!" he exclaimed. "I saw him."
"We all did. Yesterday he complained of a headache, and when Crevan went to look in on him tonight, Zachar was dead, still in his nightclothes. It's possible at Zachar's age there could have been bleeding in his head."
"So Crevan becomes the seneschal?"
"And at least for now, I'll take Crevan's place. Between us, we'll keep the palace functioning. Zachar will be missed. He was an important link for the court to Bricen's memory, and he would have been a great help to Kiara."
Mikhail's announcement brought the evening to an end. Kiara bid farewell to Carroway and Eadoin, heading back to her rooms with Cerise, Macaria, and Alle. She was surprised when Mikhail joined them.
"Something more you haven't said?" Kiara asked as Mikhail walked beside her.
"Only that I dislike the timing of Zachar's death. With Tris gone, there's no Summoner to call Zachar's ghost."
"Do you doubt Crevan's account?"
Mikhail didn't answer immediately. "I think Crevan's recount is true to what he found. That doesn't make it the whole truth."
Cerise knocked at the locked door to the Queen's suite, but Malae did not answer. Cerise knocked louder, and put her face near the door. "Malae—wake up. You've got the door locked. Let us in!" On the other side of the door, they could hear the shuffling of Tris's dogs.
When no answer came, Kiara withdrew the key from a pouch on her belt. Mikhail and the others stepped aside to let her through. The door swung open. Cerise gasped and ran ahead. Malae lay slumped in a chair beside the fire. Seanna's ghost was beside Malae, and the faint sound of her sobs broke the silence.
Mikhail gave the guards orders to secure the hallway. Kiara knelt beside Malae. Cerise's face was wet with tears. "She's dead," the healer said. Kiara reached out for Malae, but Cerise grabbed her wrist. "Don't touch her."
"Why?" Kiara asked, feeling her throat tighten. Losing Malae was like losing her mother all over again, and she longed for one last contact.
"She's been poisoned."
"Look here." Alle stood beside the table in the center of the room. A plate of tea cakes on a silver plate lay next to the teapot. Several of the cakes were gone.
"Those are kesthrie cakes," Kiara said, her eyes widening. "They're an Isencroft special-
"Malae asked the kitchen for them just yesterday," Cerise replied, standing. "She always had a weakness for them. Although I think she may have made the request sound as if it came from the queen, if I know Malae."
Kiara met Mikhail's eyes. "So if the cakes were to be for me..."
"So was the poison," Mikhail finished. "Were the cakes here when you left the room?"
Both Kiara and Cerise shook their heads. "So someone brought them while you were at dinner." Alle said. "What about the guards? Did they see anyone enter the room?"
Mikhail frowned. "The guards were with Kiara. Even the ghosts were with us when Macaria played." Kiara could see anger in his blue eyes. "I'm sorry."
Kiara wiped away tears with her sleeve. "Zachar—now this. Malae's so far from home. I don't dare send her body back. It'll cause an incident. But Isencroft burns its dead, instead of burying them as Margolan does. Mikhail, how can I send her properly to the Lady without getting the court in an uproar?"
"Make was old enough that it won't be remarkable for her heart to stop. As for the burial, you're correct. A funeral pyre won't be well received, given how fond Jared was of burning his enemies. But in a way, Zachar may have done us one last service."
"How?"
"Crevan's already making plans for a funeral befitting Zachar's long service to King Bricen and now to Tris. The court's attention will be on those events. Tell me, how does Isencroft bid farewell to those who die in battle far from home?"
"We make a bonfire with some of their personal belongings, so that the sparks will fly to the Lady."
Mikhail exchanged glances with Macaria. "Go fetch Carroway. We'll need his help." He returned his attention to Kiara. "We'll attract less attention if we bury Malae, as the Mar-golense do. I'll see to it that she rests with honor befitting her station. Part of the farewell for Zachar will include a public procession to the crypts. There'll be bonfires to light the way." He laid a hand on Kiara's arm. "You'll be required to attend the ceremony, but only at the beginning. Once the procession leaves, we'll light another bonfire for Malae. No one will notice."
"That's more than I hoped for." She paused. "It just doesn't seem right, sending her off so quietly. She's been with me since I was born."
Cerise placed her arm around Kiara's shoulder. "Malae would approve of a quiet good bye. This was her last gift to you, saving your life."
Macaria returned with Carroway, both of them out of breath from running up the stairs. Carroway's eyes widened as he took in the scene, glancing from Malae's body to the plate of cakes and then to Kiara. "Sweet Mother and Childe," Carroway whispered. "Kiara, I'm so sorry.
Alle stepped closer. "We don't dare let the court know. This must be our secret."
Mikhail took Kiara's hands in his. He met her eyes solemnly. "Until we know who did this, you must be very careful. Whoever did this knows the palace, and the king's dogs, well enough to slip in without a scene. We don't know if the poisoner worked alone. But when he or she discovers that the attempt failed, there's sure to be another."
Carroway was already moving around the room with Alle's help, gathering up any food and drink, even the flagons of wine and the kettle near the fire. "Just in case," he said, "I think we'd best get rid of everything. Alle and I can bring up fresh supplies from the kitchen. The staff knows me well enough that having me raid the pantry won't cause a stir." He made a pile of the discarded items near the door.
"For tonight, let's put Malae in her bed," Cerise said in a practical voice that shored up Kiara's wavering control. "Tomorrow morning, we'll pretend we've only just found her. Everyone saw her come up early, so they won't think anything of it if Malae was sleeping when we returned."
Kiara watched through her tears as Mikhail gently lifted Malae's frail body, carrying her to the next room. Cerise sang an Isencroft mourning song as she tucked Malae beneath the covers, and Kiara wept against Carroway's shoulder. The wolfhounds howled and the mastiff stirred from its usual place near the fire and trotted over beside Kiara, nuzzling her hand." Alle, Macaria, and I will stay in the room with Kiara," Cerise announced. "We have the dogs and the guards. There's nothing more to be done tonight."
Mikhail and Carroway bid them good night and left, taking the suspect food and drink with them. Cerise wrapped her arms around Kiara and let her sob wordlessly. Alle, at a loss for what to say, laid a hand on Kiara's shoulder. When Kiara's tears subsided, Cerise smiled sadly and dabbed at Kiara's eyes with a kerchief. "So here we are again," the healer said, giving Kiara a motherly kiss on her forehead. "Just like when Viata went to the Lady."
Kiara felt as if her heart might burst. "You and Malae have always been my second mothers. I don't know what I'll do without her."
Alle brought Kiara a nightshirt and a shawl. "Perhaps sleep will help," she said kindly. "I'll sit up near the door." She tugged back a fold of her full skirt, revealing a cleverly hidden dagger. "It was best at the tavern to keep a blade handy in case the drunks didn't take no for an answer. I never got out of the habit."
Exhausted, Kiara didn't complain when Cerise pulled back her covers and tucked the blankets in around her, hungering for the old comforts she had known since childhood. At the foot and head of the bed, as promised, were two shallow bowls of water. Cerise pushed back the hair from Kiara's forehead as if for a small child. "I can help you sleep, if you'd like."
"Please. My body's too tired to move, but with everything that's happened, my mind is racing."
Cerise placed a hand over Kiara's forehead, and Kiara felt the healer's magic relax her body, making it possible for her to fall asleep faster than she ever imagined.
Kiara's dreams were dark. She was alone on a bleak plain, a shadowed place lit by a waning moon. The night was unnaturally silent. No wind rustled the bare trees, and no creatures scurried in the darkness.
Kiara flattened herself behind a rock ledge. Something was searching for her, for the warm presence she carried within. Kiara could sense a darkness, invisible yet almost near enough to touch. It was.not searching for her. It searched for the child she carried, a Summoner's child.
There was nowhere to run, no safe place to hide. Instinctively, Kiara curled into a ball, wrapping her arms around her knees, shielding the child in her belly as the danger moved closer. In the distance, she heard the baying of dogs. Darkness enveloped her. It hurled itself against her mind, as the Obsidian King had once tried to break through her shielding. The amulet at her throat burst into light, and Kiara felt the shadow pull back.
In the distance, Kiara heard the sound of a distant flute playing wild notes that sounded like the coming of a storm. Fog began to swirl around her on the Plains of Spirit, and in the fog, she saw faces and forms. The ghosts swirled around her, drawing on the energy of the amulet's glow, driven by the music. The ghosts became more solid, and although Kiara had none of Tris's summoning magic, she could feel the energy that crackled like lightning around her. The ghosts' mood matched the ferocity of the music, but Kiara sensed no threat from them. Instead, they formed a protective barrier between Kiara and the shadow, even as the darkness threatened to overwhelm them.
She threw all of her energy into her shield-ings, knowing that they could not hold out forever, and on the barren plain she could hear the echo of her own screams—
"Kiara!"
Kiara thrashed awake, her heart pounding, wet with sweat. It took a moment to realize that Cerise and Alle stood over her. The three dogs stood at the foot of her bed, their hackles raised, teeth bared. Across the room, near the fireplace, Macaria lowered her flute, wide-eyed and frightened.
"What happened?"
"Seanna woke us," Alle said. "She kept ripping the covers off me until I woke up. She did the same to Cerise. She knew something was wrong." Seanna's ghost was faintly visible at the foot of Kiara's bed, next to the water bowl. Suddenly, the bowl began to rock, sloshing its contents. Alle looked at the ghost, puzzled. "What?"
Alle's eyes narrowed, and she dipped a finger into the bowl and sniffed it cautiously.
"'Whoever brought the cakes for Malae left another surprise. Someone's replaced the salt water with plain water. Useless." She looked to Kiara. "What happened?"
Kiara recounted the attack, and looked up at Macaria. "It was your playing I heard, wasn't it? To draw the ghosts."
Macaria nodded. "I didn't know what was happening, but I could feel bad magic. Car-roway told me that the ghosts of Shekerishet would protect you. I thought if I called them, they'd know what to do."
Kiara smiled gratefully. "They did. Thank you."
Cerise dropped to her knees and stretched her hand under Kiara's bed. She sat up, holding a folded parchment in her hands.
"Give me your dagger," Cerise said to Alle, who handed over her weapon. Cerise laid the parchment on the floor. It was folded in a complex pattern and tied with red twine, sealed with a wax sigil that shifted as they looked at it. Murmuring under her breath, Cerise took the dagger in both hands and stabbed through the center of the parchment with her full strength. The point of the dagger sliced through the packet and a scream tore from the parchment itself, which curled up as if licked by unseen flames. The door to the corridor burst open and the guards entered.
"My Lady, are you all right?"
Kiara drew a deep breath and nodded. Cerise and Alle moved to hide the dagger and parchment from the guards' view. "Just bad dreams," Kiara said. "Thank you."
No one spoke until the door closed behind the guards.
"What the hells was that?" Alle asked. Cerise gingerly hooked what remained of the parchment with the dagger's tip and carefully carried it to the fireplace. As it curled and burned in the flames, they could hear the sound of distant voices in an unknown language.
"Blood magic." Cerise cleansed the blade of the dagger in the flames before returning it to Alle. "Someone broke the warding of the bowls, and placed that charm beneath your bed. Tell me again what you saw."
Kiara repressed a shiver. "I was on a dark plain, like a moor or a bog. There was something searching for me—for us," she said, her hand going to her belly. "It didn't want me. It was looking for the baby, for its spirit."
"The old women of the mountain villages tell tales about dimonns. When a child dies in its crib they say the dimonns have taken its soul. Has Tris ever told you what he sees on the Plains of Spirit?"
"Most of the time, he sees the souls of the dead. Sometimes, he's glimpsed the Lady. But a few times, he's seen something else that left him shaken, things he wouldn't talk about."
"Healers tread close to the Plains of Spirit, although we don't see it as a Summoner does. But we can sense the life force, and we know when it wanes. I woke just before the dogs began to bark. Dogs can see spirits and sense evil. You were quivering all over, your eyes were wide open but not seeing, and then your whole body stiffened. I could feel something draining your life force, like a damper on a candle. I said a charm against darkness, and you woke up."
"What now? I'm no safer asleep than I am awake. How long can I fight something I can't even see?"
Cerise took Kiara's hand. "Tomorrow, we'll call for one of the Sisters to cleanse your rooms. The blood magic charm opened a gateway to the Plains of Spirit. We need to close it. Then, we'll set new charms and wardings. One of us will stay in the room at all times to make sure nothing is disturbed."
Now that the terror had drained away, Kiara felt completely spent. Cerise drew up a chair beside Kiara's bed and took a blanket from the chest. Alle returned to her post by the door, and the dogs left the fire to lie near Kiara's bed. Macaria refused to leave, and took up another chair near the fire. Still numb with grief over Malae's death and exhausted from her struggle with the dimonn, Kiara slept.
"Why have they taken Bian?" In the minstrels' practice room, Macaria paced compulsively, running her hands through her short, dark hair. "How could anyone suspect Bian?"
Carroway shook his head. The guards had taken Bian from the kitchen on Crevan's orders. Rumors about bad food causing Malae's death quickly turned to dark suspicions, and Carroway barely hid his annoyance at Crevan's botched response.
"Bad food comes from the kitchen, and Bian runs the kitchen," Halik replied, his tone making it clear that he, too, considered Bian innocent.
Paiva, a third-year fosterling and the newest addition to Carroway's inner circle burst through the door. "They've shut her up in the guard house. It's too cold in there for an old woman. She'll freeze before she gets the chance to plead her case."
Carroway turned toward the fire, rubbing his hand across his forehead.
"Zachar. Malae. Bian. What if it's not a coincidence? The king leaves the palace—the only Summoner who could question the spirits and know for certain how they died—and within a few weeks, three of the most trusted retainers either die or are sent away."
"You said Zachar had a brain bleed," Macaria said.
"Maybe he did. But we weren't looking for poison before Malae died. We assumed the poisoned cakes were for Kiara, but anyone who's watched knows Kiara hasn't eaten much at all this last month."
"She's spent most of the time throwing up in the garderobe, that's the truth," Paiva declared.
"It was Malae who asked for the cakes. What if Malae was the target?" Carroway said, his eyes wide. "How better to get rid of Bian, who's been our eyes and ears? Crevan's on the edge of losing his mind with the preparations for Zachar's funeral. The king is gone to war, the new queen is vulnerable, we've got a half-competent vice seneschal in charge, and three of our inner circle are either dead or under suspicion. If they can peel away the queen's friends, then the queen will be exposed. We'd better find out quickly who's behind this. Kiara's not the only one in danger. So are we."