Falk stood once more by the statue in New Cabora Square, guards surrounding him, soldiers forming a white line all around the square. Both guards and soldiers were heavily armed, not just with pikes, shields, swords, and clubs, but also with less-visible and yet far more deadly enchanted weapons: flamesweeps, breathstoppers, the euphemistically named meloncrushers. The guards and soldiers had enough power at their disposal to slay every person in the Square in seconds-and the Commoners knew it. Falk smiled. Hell, he could have killed most of them singlehandedly.
MageLords ruled by divine right and with divinely bestowed power. The Commoners’ place was to serve. If they served well, they might be rewarded. If they rebelled… well, the ruins of City Hall, the Courthouse, and the Grand Theater were testament to what would happen.
But though Falk was perfectly willing and able to continue using force to keep the Commons in line, he didn’t want to have to. He wanted this unrest quieted, so he could focus on finding Brenna and finally… finally… bringing his great Plan to fruition.
And, thanks to Mother Northwind, he thought he had found a way.
He was not the one making a speech today in the center of the Square. He stood on the lower level of the statue’s great pedestal. Above him, looking out over the crowd, stood Davydd Verdsmitt.
“He will do whatever you ask of him,” Mother Northwind had assured him, and indeed, Verdsmitt had agreed at once to come to the Square and make the speech he was about to deliver, one that had been written by Falk and then “improved” by Verdsmitt. Falk’s mouth twitched. Whatever else Mother Northwind had done to the man’s mind, it hadn’t stopped him from thinking like a writer.
He glanced at one particular guard who, rather than watching the crowd, was watching Falk. If Verdsmitt’s speech was not exactly what Falk had asked for, Falk would signal that guard, and the speech-and Verdsmitt-would both be cut short.
But Verdsmitt did not stray from the text. “Fellow New Caborans!” he shouted. “You know me. You know who I am. You know my skill with a pen. And you know I have sometimes turned that skill against the rule of the MageLords.”
A murmur swept through the crowd. They’d known, all right, Falk thought, but they’re uneasy that he’s admitting it in front of me.
Well, they’re about to feel a great deal uneasier.
“I come before you today to tell you… I was wrong to do so.”
The murmur swelled to something louder. “Davydd, no!” someone shouted. Falk hoped the guards had noted whoever it was; he might be worth talking to privately later.
Verdsmitt held up his hand. “I was wrong, because I did not realize where it could lead,” he shouted. “Look around you. We cannot defy the MageLords. They alone have magic, and that magic gives them the power-and the right-to rule those of us to whom it is denied. It is the natural order of things, and we cannot change it. Nor should we attempt to do so.”
The murmur in the crowd had a nasty edge to it, and the guards were fingering their weapons. Falk frowned. Had he misjudged…?
But Verdsmitt’s speech wasn’t finished. “We cannot change it, but we can improve on it,” he said. “I have had consultations with Lord Falk since I was arrested-as I most definitely deserved to be!” (Here he gave one of the wry grins that made him so appealing on stage.) “We have reached an understanding. Prince Karl must still be returned: there is no question about that. But once he is returned, and as long as there are no more acts of open rebellion, sabotage, or defiance, Lord Falk has agreed to an extraordinary meeting of the MageLord Council and representatives of the Commoners, to find ways that Commoners can exercise more self-rule… within the limits set by the King, of course. And I remind you that Prince Karl has long been a friend to the Commons, and will surely do everything he can to address our grievances.
“Therefore, friends, especially my friends within the Common Cause, I call on you to put thoughts of rebellion behind you, for the greater good of all. To prove his good faith, Lord Falk has agreed to magically rebuild the Courthouse within the week. If there are no more incidents, he will rebuild the Grand Theater the week after that.” Another grin. “Where, I remind you, there is supposed to be a remount of my mystery The Light in the Sky in a month’s time, so, if you love me…
Astonishingly, that evoked a few chuckles.
“Finally, City Hall will be rebuilt as soon as Prince Karl is returned,” Verdsmitt continued. “It is a fair offer, a magnanimous offer, and one that proffers hope for a new era of better relations between Commoners and MageLords.” That wry smile once more. “As someone once wrote, ‘Mount Perfection cannot be scaled, but you have a fine view of its peak from Mount Good-Enough.’ ”
The smile and the well-known line-from Up and Down and ’Round the Town, one of Verdsmitt’s popular comedies-both perfectly delivered, elicited outright laughter, and Falk saw the guards relax a little.
“One week of quiet,” Verdsmitt said. “One week, and our beautiful Courthouse will be restored. The curfew will be lifted, the number of guards patrolling our streets reduced. One week. Two weeks, and the Theater returns. As soon as Prince Karl is released, City Hall. And then… the Unity Convention.
“We all hope for a better life for our families and children. I offer you a way to make that hope reality. Please don’t steal it away from all the frightened fathers and mothers and children, grandfathers and grandmothers, by launching more attacks on the MageLords, attacks that are as doomed to failure as the attack on the MageFurnace. And to those who are holding the Prince, I say, you are holding our future captive, as well. Free him, and free us all.
“Let us all join together in hope, let us all hope together for change, let us together change our ways to ways of peace, and together, we will all give hope and peace a chance.
“Thank you.” And Verdsmitt bowed, a deep actor’s bow.
The applause started slowly at first, then swelled, then grew to a great roar of approval. Falk saw tears on the Commoner faces below him, people holding up their children to see Verdsmitt as he waved and bowed again, and was surprised to feel… well, jealous, he supposed, jealous that Verdsmitt could rouse that kind of emotion, that kind of adulation, even while announcing what was essentially a surrender of everything the Common Cause claimed to stand for.
Verdsmitt has his own magic, Falk thought. The magic of words. In some ways, it may be stronger than mine.
But then, just as a reminder to himself, he deliberately looked past the feet of the bowing Verdsmitt at the ruins of City Hall. And in a great many other ways, he thought, it is not.
Their return trek to the Palace was considerably different than their approach to the Square had been. The guards had to stay close around Falk and Verdsmitt, but it seemed to be mostly because so many people wanted to see Verdsmitt, even reaching out hands they had to know would be slapped away, trying to touch him or get him to touch them.
“That was well done,” Falk said to Verdsmitt when they had finally left the press of the crowd behind and were approaching the gate. “It was everything I had hoped for, and it may indeed return peace to the streets.” He studied the playwright. Mother Northwind insisted the man did not know he was the Patron, and neither did the rebels of the Common Cause, that he always issued orders indirectly, or through a Mage link and that Tagaza disguised their identities. Too bad, Falk thought, or I could have just made him order the release of Karl and had him give me the names of all the Cause’s leaders, without any of this “Unity Convention” nonsense. But if he doesn’t know he is the Patron… what does he think he just accomplished? “Do you really think the members of the Common Cause will listen to you?”
“I think there is a good chance of it, my lord,” Verdsmitt said modestly. “If I have made them understand how wrong they are-how wrong I was-to raise voices and hands against good King Kravon and Your Lordship, then they most certainly will. And if they do not, my lord, I beg you to be magnanimous and not let one or two minor harassments by overzealous Commoners derail your promise to rebuild and to hold the Unity Convention. After a major attack, of course, you must take firm action, as I’m sure every reasonable person will agree, but if little real harm is done… if you condemn it but refuse to allow it to derail your plans for rapprochement, it would go a long way toward improving Your Lordship’s standing in the eyes of New Cabora’s Commoner citizens.”
Falk nodded thoughtfully. “I believe you are right, Verdsmitt. Of course, I will have to weigh carefully the seriousness of any such attack, but if it is minor… well, as you say, I can afford to be magnanimous in pursuit of the greater good.” He clapped Verdsmitt on the back. “And may I say, Davydd,” he said, using the playwright’s first name for the first time, “how wonderful it is that you have come to understand how foolish all of this Common Cause business has been.” Not that you had any choice in the matter.
“Thank you, my lord.” Verdsmitt bowed his head as though to hide how touched he was by the praise.
SkyMage, Falk thought with admiration, Mother Northwind outdid herself.
His pleasure faded, however, as he contemplated the reason she had been unable to make Verdsmitt even more useful: Tagaza. Even now, he knew, Mother Northwind was with the First Mage, trying to put him back together so he could re-create the spell that would find Brenna… and then face his just punishment, Falk snarled silently.
“My lord, a word,” said a voice from his other side, and Falk turned to see Captain Fedric. “My lord, a Commoner approached us in secret as the crowd dispersed, with an urgent request to speak to you.” Fedric lowered his voice. “He says he knows where Prince Karl is
… said that if Verdsmitt is giving up, then so is he.”
Falk glanced at Verdsmitt, who gave no sign of hearing anything that had been said, eyes focused on the gates inside the archway of stone that marked the opening through the Lesser Barrier. In calmer times, those gates stood open, though guarded. Since Karl’s disappearance, they had been kept magically sealed, opened grudgingly only to those with urgent business in the Palace.
Like barn doors shut after the cows have escaped, Falk thought cynically, which he thought he was entitled to, since it was, after all, his belated and useless command that had shut them. Still, some things you did just for appearances.
He looked back at the captain. “Where is this man now?”
“In the guardhouse of the gate,” Fedric replied. “Awaiting your wishes.”
“Take him to the Palace,” Falk commanded. “But don’t take him down to the dungeon-no need to terrify him back into silence. Take him to one of the small conference rooms… the Blue Lounge, I think. Provide him with refreshment. A full flagon of really good wine. And when I am unfortunately delayed, offer him a second flagon, and tell him I will be along shortly… just as soon as my pressing schedule allows.”
Fedric smiled. “Yes, my lord,” and peeled off toward the guardhouse.
The gate swung open, and Falk and Verdsmitt, accompanied by a remaining quartet of bodyguards, started across the cobblestoned bridge. “In your most recent play, Davydd,” Falk said conversationally, “you had a line-a rhyming couplet, no less… let me see if I can remember it… ah, yes. ‘How people cheered when that cursed arch and gate/were thrown to ruin, nine hundred years too late.’ ”
Verdsmitt winced. “Don’t remind me, my lord. I wish that play had never left my pen.”
“Well,” Falk said judiciously, “I’m no critic, but I thought it had its moments. Perhaps it just needs rewriting. I could offer you my thoughts…”
“My lord,” said Verdsmitt. “I wish you would. It pains me to think how until now I have stumbled through the dark thickets of verbiage without your shining insight to light my way.”
Just for a moment, Falk thought Verdsmitt was mocking him. But the playwright’s face remained so sincere he dismissed the notion as ludicrous. Still, perhaps Mother Northwind had gone a little overboard in turning Verdsmitt loyal. Falk would have to remember that. Sometimes those who only said yes were far more dangerous to a ruler. .. Would-be ruler, Falk thought, you’re not there yet, but still, he cherished the thought… than those who dared to tell him no.
Once across the bridge, Falk took a deep breath of the balmy air, thick with the smell of green growing things, and began shedding his coat. “Well, again, Davydd, excellent work today. Now that you are at liberty to move around, I hope you’ll take time to enjoy the Palace grounds. The ornamental gardens are really quite beautiful.”
“Thank you, my lord, I have been hoping to do so.” Verdsmitt bowed low, then turned and angled away, pulling off his own coat as he did so. One of the servants, who had scurried up as they had stepped off of the bridge, took it and strode off toward the Palace as Verdsmitt disappeared around a flowering bush.
Falk walked slowly on toward the Palace himself. He would wait two or three hours before questioning the informant who had approached the captain, plenty of time to let the wine work on him. It was one of the softer interrogation techniques, but sometimes remarkably effective. Even if the man were dissembling, he would be more likely to betray himself with a flagon of wine… “really good wine,” as he’d told the captain, which would be understood to mean the wine that they heavily fortified just for these occasions, the taste of the extra alcohol magically removed.
In the meantime, there was Mother Northwind’s progress with Tagaza to check on.
But on his way to Tagaza’s quarters, he was met by Brich, who for once- And a nice change it makes, too, Falk thought-looked pleased by the news he carried. “Yes, Brich?”
Brich smiled. “My lord, a message came in this morning from a Mounted Ranger on the east side of the lake. He has spotted Brenna, Anton, and the airship being pulled south by dogsleds. The Mountie is shadowing them from the shoreline.”
I have her again! Falk thought, and it felt like a huge weight had been taken off his shoulders. “I would issue orders to immediately dispatch a sizable contingent of soldiers to seize them as soon as an opportunity presents itself, but I suspect they would be redundant,” Falk said.
Brich’s smile widened. “The orders were issued the moment the message came in… in your name, of course.”
“Excellent.” Falk trusted Brich-about the only person he could say that of, now that Tagaza had betrayed him-and had made it clear to his secretary that he could, within reason, issue orders on Falk’s behalf if time were of the essence. “They will seize them tonight, and have them back here…?”
“Within two days.”
“Excellent,” Falk repeated. “Well done, Brich.”
“Thank you, sir.” Brich looked almost as pleased by the praise as Verdsmitt had. And Mother Northwind, Falk thought rather smugly, didn’t have a thing to do with it.
With Brenna having been found by ordinary means, it was no longer urgent that Tagaza be healthy enough to try his Heir-finding spell again-but when Brich intercepted him, Falk had been on his way to see how the First Mage was coming along under Mother Northwind’s ministrations, and now he let inertia carry him the rest of the way. ..
… to be met, outside Tagaza’s quarters, by a grim-faced Mother Northwind, just closing the door behind her.
“Ah, Mother Northwind. How goes it?”
“I’m sorry, Lord Falk,” she said. “I did my best, but… he died ten minutes ago.”
With Brenna found, he felt little but relief at the news; and feeling a little impish, knowing it would shock her, he simply shrugged and said, “Oh, well. These things happen.”
This was so obviously not at all the response she had expected that she actually seemed speechless for a moment, much to his delight. For once, knowing Brenna and Anton had been found, he was a step ahead of her.
She’ll find out when they’re brought here and not a moment sooner, he thought. A valuable reminder that, useful though she is, the Plan we are both working for is mine, and I can achieve it even without her help.
“Although I’m very sorry to hear it, of course,” he continued. “What happened?”
“His own spell happened,” Mother Northwind said, her dark eyes narrowed as she searched his face. “It was interrupted just as he was gathering the energy he needed… and that energy had to go somewhere. He tried to throw it off into the steam, but he was being hurled backward and scalded at the same moment, and lost control. Some of the energy burned through him. His brain was so badly damaged I could not heal it. And even as I tried, the last thread holding him to life snapped. I chased after it, trying to keep his heart beating, keep him breathing, but every Healer has limits, even I, and… he slipped away.” She sighed. “It may have been for the best. Even if he had lived, I do not think he would have been more than a… lump. His mind, I think, was destroyed at the moment of the accident. Even his memories were lost.” She spread her hands. “I have failed you this time, Lord Falk.”
“Through no fault of your own, Mother Northwind,” Falk said. He smiled, thinking of Verdsmitt. “And you have succeeded spectacularly for me so many other times. Now, go and rest. You have done all you can for me for now.”
“Thank you, Lord Falk,” Mother Northwind said. “I do feel fatigued.” She made her slow way down the hall, and Falk watched her go, feeling like a little boy who had just put something over on his mother.
His own mother was long dead and hadn’t wasted a lot of affection on him when she was alive, and he would never mistake the “Mother” in Mother Northwind as anything more than an honorific the Commoners applied, but still, the feeling was the same.
His smile widened as she turned the corner and went out of sight, and he thought about the informant waiting in the Blue Lounge. If the man really did know where Karl was-and Falk had high hopes-then Falk would know two things Mother Northwind did not, and presenting her with the fait accompli of both Karl and Brenna back where they belonged, under his thumb and in the Palace, would send an even more forceful message to her not to underestimate him.
It was still too early to go to the Blue Lounge, so Falk directed his steps instead toward his office, where the damnable paperwork had no doubt climbed to alarming new heights during the course of the day. He stepped aside with a smile-much to their surprise-for the servants hurrying to Tagaza’s room to take charge of the body. There would have to be a state funeral, of course, but it would fortunately fall to the Prime Adviser, Lord Athol, to arrange it and to give the eulogy. I’ll get Verdsmitt to write it for him, Falk thought. There won’t be a dry eye in the Great Hall.
His smile faded as he thought of the one thing Tagaza’s death did cast uncertainty on: the spell that would break the rules governing the succession of the Keys and transfer them to him in the moment of the simultaneous deaths of King and Heir. But then, after recent events, he would not have trusted Tagaza to perform the spell even if he had lived. The other mage who had learned the spell was a staunch member of the Unbound, and almost as skilled as Tagaza.
He’ll suffice, Falk thought.
And the time was drawing oh-so-near.
There was one other thing to think about, though. Falk made his way through the magically sealed door and guard station (“Marigold.” “Cornflower.”) to his office, nodding to Brich, text-stamping away once more.
The Outsider boy, Anton, Falk thought, sitting at his desk. There’s where Mother Northwind can help once more. Make him as loyal to me as Verdsmitt, and he will teach me how to operate his airship. Send him back over the Barrier with someone I can trust… he can be my ambassador to the Outside, assure them we only want peace, that when the Barrier falls there will be no cause for alarm…
… and then the Outsiders will be all the more unprepared as we annex all the villages along the Barrier and prepare to move inexorably into the rest of the world.
Yes, Falk thought. That is what I’ll do.
Satisfied, he pulled the nearest stack of paper toward him and reached for his pen.
Mother Northwind was thinking furiously as she walked away from Falk, but though she racked her brain, mentally reviewing everything she thought she knew about the current state of play, she could think of no reason why Lord Falk should have reacted with such equanimity to the news of Tagaza’s death. These things happen? What kind of way was that to respond to the death of your oldest friend… not to mention the architect and planned-for-executor of a major component of your two-decade-old plan to seize the Kingdom and destroy the Great Barrier?
Mother Northwind had been prepared for consternation, fury, accusations of incompetence… anything, really, except for this calm, almost jovial acceptance.
She reviewed what she knew. Prince Karl was safely ensconced at Goodwife Beth’s. Brenna and Anton by now had been retrieved by the dog teams sent north from Foam River. They would soon be delivered to a rocky bay, safe from prying eyes, on Foam River’s outskirts, and from there taken to join Karl.
The only thing… the only thing… she could think of that might have made Falk so accepting of Tagaza’s death was the speech Verdsmitt had been expected to deliver. He must have done himself proud, Mother Northwind thought. People forget he can act as well as he can write. And it must have been difficult for him to portray himself as suddenly rejecting the claims and ideology of the Common Cause.
Well, she thought, the Common Cause had always been a sideshow for him, really. Verdsmitt’s true driving purpose had always been revenge on his ex-lover, King Kravon… not surprising, since when she had touched him on the night she enlisted him, she had ensured that time would do nothing to dim the bright, shining pain caused by Kravon’s betrayal, or Verdsmitt’s burning desire to retaliate.
That must be it, she thought. Verdsmitt’s speech had gone so well that even Tagaza’s death could not shake Falk’s renewed confidence. Perhaps he had already resigned himself to not being able to use Tagaza to find Brenna, assuming he would eventually find her through nonmagical means.
She paused for a moment as she climbed the stairs one floor to the level of her apartment. She did feel fatigued; she hadn’t been lying about that. Healing a man was tiring, but killing one was exhausting. ..
… especially when you first had to systematically search for and destroy his memories so that no other Healer could reach inside and find some fading evidence of his complete innocence. Not that it hadn’t been interesting to rummage in Tagaza’s mind, especially those parts that had to do with the Great Barrier. Tagaza really did believe that magic would fail on its own in a few years if the Barriers were not brought down. More, though he had never told Falk-and now never would, Mother Northwind thought with relish-he believed that Falk’s dreams of conquest were futile, since the farther Falk’s forces got from the lode of magic on which Evrenfels was built, the weaker their magic would become, until it didn’t work at all.
He was never really on Falk’s side, either, Mother Northwind thought. Three of us working to bring down the Barriers, and none of us for the same reason.
And if I fail, and Falk succeeds, little good will it do him if Tagaza was right. He will never be able to expand his kingdom, and when the weapons Commoners have created in the Outside that I saw in Anton’s mind are brought to bear, I doubt he will even hold Evrenfels.
She did not expect to fail. But she took some comfort in the thought that, even if she did, the MageLords would still be destroyed.
Breath coming a little easier, she finished climbing the stairs and headed to her room for what she felt was a welldeserved rest.
Two hours later, Falk finally went down to the Blue Lounge. The two Royal guards at the door saluted and held it open for him.
The man seated at the head of the long table of dark wood beneath the blue walls had not only drunk all of the wine provided him, he was well into a second flagon. He stood up when the door opened, but Falk noted with satisfaction that he put out a hand to steady himself.
Falk studied the man without saying anything for a moment. For his part, the man stood with his head cast down, that one steadying hand still on the table. He was breathing unusually hard, as though he had just been running instead of seated in a comfortable chair enjoying cheese and bread and lamb-stuffed pastries. He was also one of the most nondescript men Falk had ever seen, round and somehow soft around the edges, as though only half-formed.
“I am Lord Falk, Minister of Public Safety to His Majesty King Kravon, Keeper of the Keys and the Kingdom,” Falk said at last. “I hope you found the wine and food to your liking.”
“Yes, my lord. Thank you, my lord,” said the man.
Falk sat down at the far end of the long table from the Commoner. “And your name is…?”
“They call me Jopps, my lord,” he said, his face glistening with perspiration, though the room was cool.
“Not your real name?” Falk said.
Jopps said nothing.
Falk shrugged. “No matter. Very well, Jopps. You told my Captain of the guard that you know where Prince Karl is.”
“I do,” Jopps said. “My lord. But I want some guarantees before I tell you.”
Lord Falk’s eyebrows rose. “I am not in the habit of negotiating with those who hold information it is their duty as loyal subjects of King Kravon to share,” he said.
Jopps shook his head. “Don’t care. No guarantees, you get nothing from me. My lord.”
Mother Northwind could get it from you, Falk thought, and immediately rejected the thought. It was too easy to rely on her for gathering intelligence-and that was dangerous. For one thing, she was old, and he wouldn’t have her skills to draw on forever. For another, relying too much on her would mean his own not-inconsiderable skills at acquiring information could wither. And for a third, he preferred to keep some secrets for himself.
“What guarantees?” Falk said.
“My parents, my lord,” Jopps said hoarsely. “They lost their home, and the shop, when you destroyed the Courthouse. They need a place to live. They need money.” He licked his lips. “And Healers. They’re sick, Mom especially. You promise to look after them properly, like they… like they were Mageborn… and I’ll tell you where Prince Karl is.”
Falk studied him. “You want nothing for yourself?”
“No, my lord,” Jopps said. “Nothing.”
How unusual, Falk thought. And refreshingly straightforward. He shrugged mentally. Well, why not? It would cost next to nothing. And if the man’s information turned out to be bogus… well, it would give him a lever to use to pry the truth out of him. “Agreed. Where is the Prince?”
Jopps took a deep, shaky breath. He looks, Falk thought, like he’s going to be sick. But though it might have been close, Jopps did not spew the contents of his stomach across the shiny surface of the table. Instead he said, “Goodwife Beth’s, my lord.”
Falk cocked his head. “Goodwife Beth,” he said carefully, letting a little sharpened steel show in his voice, “is a character in a Verdsmitt play.”
“Also the name of a woman… very tough woman… high in the Cause,” Jopps said. All of a sudden words came rushing out of him, a different kind of spew as though, now that he had begun to talk, he might not be able to stop. “I don’t know where she came from originally. She puts on this whole ‘Goodwife Beth’ act but underneath she’s hard as nails. Slice your throat in a second if she thought you deserved it. She’s got this farmhouse, well, that’s what it looks like from the outside, out in a little valley west of New Cabora-closest town is a place called Quillhill. I can show you the exact spot. Thing is, it’s not really a farmhouse… or I guess it is, but it’s set into the hill… and there’s more house inside the hill than you see on the outside. Got a secret exit up on the hilltop. Got to know that if you’re going to go after the Prince. They’ll try to take him out that way. I can show you where that is, too.”
He stopped, suddenly; either he was out of breath or a second thought had finally chased down his runaway first one.
“Very complete,” Falk said. “Perhaps you could show us on a map. ..?”
Jopps nodded.
“And how do you know this, Jopps?” Falk said softly. “Why should I believe you?”
“Been in the Cause a long time,” Jopps muttered, not meeting Falk’s eyes. “Verdsmitt’s doing. Heard him speak once, secret meeting
… convinced me we had to fight back, had to try to make things better for Commoners, that King Kravon doesn’t care about us, people freezing to death in the streets of the city every winter… it’s obscene.
“Anyway, I joined up. Did odd jobs, nothing major. Then I met this girl called Jenna. Beautiful, young… I think I was half in love with her. We all were.” He swallowed hard and dashed his hand across his eyes, quickly, as if chasing away a fly.
“We got word from the Patron. Something special planned. Biggest thing the Cause had ever done. The Patron needed a volunteer… needed a young woman… and Jenna stepped forward. She must have known she’d never get away with it, even if it worked… but she volunteered anyway.”
“Volunteered for what?” Falk asked.
Jopps looked up for the first time. “To kill the Prince,” he snarled. “She hid in the bubble under the water where he liked to swim, waited for him. But something went wrong. The Prince wasn’t hurt, and Jenna…” He shook his head, then went on with a voice grown suddenly hoarse.
“And it didn’t do a damn bit of good. All it did was bring the guards into the streets, rounding up people. Made things worse, not better. Jenna died for nothing. The Common Cause… the Patron.. . killed her for nothing.” His voice was rising now. “I think the Patron knew it wouldn’t work! I think the Patron threw away Jenna’s life for nothing, just to cause a little trouble… and the only trouble she caused was for us!
“And then Verdsmitt got himself arrested. That was on the Patron’s orders, too.” That got Falk’s attention. Verdsmitt had wanted to be arrested? “Patron wanted him in the Palace, for some reason. I don’t know why. Me and Denson, we were sent in through the Barrier…”
“How?” Falk demanded, leaning forward.
Jopps shrugged. “I don’t know. Little stick of a thing, colder than an icicle. It cut an opening in the Barrier, like a knife cutting a wax-paper windowpane. Then you had a few seconds to get through before it closed up. Would only work twice, we were told; once in, once out, then it would just be a stick again.
“Well, we got in with our folding boat, came over to this side of the river. Then…” He took another deep breath. “My lord, we put some… things. Here and there around the outside of the Palace. Stones, sticks, they didn’t look like much, but they had that chill, you know, that magic thing.”
“You’ll show me exactly where these things are?” Falk snapped.
Jopps nodded rapidly. “Of course, my lord.”
Enchanted objects for eavesdropping… or murder, Falk thought. Tagaza’s doing. And that’s why he was so willing to do the spell to find Brenna. He had other ways to disrupt the Plan, even if I got her back.
Hell, he was head of the Magecorps. The whole Palace may be full of his devices!
Well, no matter. Tagaza’s dead, he thought fiercely. Whatever those devices were intended to do, he’s not around to trigger them. We can collect them at our leisure. He made a mental note to interrogate the Magecorps mages responsible for Palace maintenance. “Carry on.”
“Then we hid and watched to see what happened when Verdsmitt was taken. We thought he was going to do something spectacular, thought he was going to escape and come running out to us, something…
“But it was Jenna all over again. Nothing happened, except we didn’t have Verdsmitt anymore.” He sounded bitter. “So we rowed back across the lake. Got through the Barrier all right, were packing up to head into the city… and out of nowhere, here comes the rutting Prince. He ran right through the Barrier. I could have sworn it had already closed, but… there he was!”
He shook his head. “We didn’t want him. Could have killed him, but we didn’t want to do that without orders from higher up. I figured we were just delaying the inevitable. The Patron had already tried to kill him once, after all. But next thing you know we’re dragging the Prince’s sorry ass out to Goodwife Beth’s.”
“So why did you decide to come to me?” Falk said.
“I heard about what happened to the Courthouse, what happened to Mom and Dad,” Jopps said. “I came back to help them, didn’t come back to betray anybody. But then I saw everything that had happened just because the bloody Patron decided to try to kill the Prince and then keep him when he jumped into our hands, and I thought, ‘This ain’t worth it.’ We’re supposed to be about making things better for the Commons, and instead we’ve done nothing but make them worse.
“And then Davydd Verdsmitt himself, today, telling us to give up. ..” Jopps swiped his hand across his nose. “If he’s done with the Cause, then I am, too. That’s the simple truth. And so is what I’ve been telling you about the Prince. You go where I show you, you’ll find him, my lord.”
“We’ll find your friends, too,” Falk said.
“They ain’t my friends. Not anymore.”
Falk considered. “All right, Jopps,” he said, “I’m going to trust you. But you’re coming with us on the raid. If things aren’t exactly as you told us… if you’ve set us up for some kind of ambush… you’ll wish you were never born-” he turned his voice ice cold, “-and so will your parents in the few short, miserable days they have left to them.”
Jopps paled, but he nodded once. “I told you the truth,” he said. “You go there, you’ll find him.”
Falk smiled. “Well, then, let’s go there, shall we?”