“I’d like to go to a party,” Jorani said wistfully, smoothing the skirts of her silk dress. She’d been closemouthed and wide-eyed ever since they arrived at the palace.
“You can come to the next one,” Evan said. “Especially if Brody keeps complaining.”
They were met at the palace gate by a handful of the queen’s blue-coated guards, who escorted them to a small reception hall.
As soon as they were ushered through the doorway, Evan recognized several people from the meeting earlier in the day. As the queen had promised, this was an intimate, informal gathering. The queen herself was welcoming newcomers and directing them to food and drink.
“Captain Strangward,” she said graciously. “I’m glad that you and Brody were able to come and celebrate with us.” She stood on tiptoe, scanning the crowd. “I know Adrian is here somewhere, no doubt catching up with old friends. Ah. There he is. Come with me.” The queen led him toward the back of the room, to where the uplander, Shadow Dancer, waited with a tall, broad-shouldered young mage wearing an elaborately stitched coat and a scowl.
“Adrian, this is Evan Strangward, from Carthis. Lord Strangward, this is my son, Adrian sul’Han.”
But no, it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. Evan found himself looking into the icy blue-green eyes of the king of Arden’s gifted healer, Adam Freeman.
“We’ve met, Mother,” Freeman said through his teeth. He gripped his amulet. “Step away from the queen, you murderous bastard.”
Evan saw no point in denying who he was, or forcing the hand of the Queen’s Guard by refusing. He’d have to talk fast if he wanted to survive the night.
“Healer,” he said, taking two steps away from the wolf queen and keeping his hands at his sides. “I’m glad to see that you survived that unpleasantness at Ardenscourt.”
“What unpleasantness?” the queen said, looking from Evan to the healer and back again. “What’s this about Ardenscourt?”
“I survived,” Freeman said, still fixed on Evan. “And, unfortunately, you survived. But not everyone did.”
“Surely you don’t regret killing the king of Arden,” Evan said, taking a blind shot, hoping it hit home. “I can’t imagine that anyone is mourning him on this side of the border.”
“You killed King Gerard?” It was Shadow Dancer, his body rigid, his eyes wide with surprise.
“One thing confuses me, though,” Evan said. “In Ardenscourt, I knew you as Adam Freeman.”
“In Ardenscourt,” the queen said, as if she couldn’t believe her ears. She turned to the healer. “What is he talking about, Adrian?”
“I told you about Jenna,” the healer said. He pointed at Evan. “This is the man who murdered her.”
“You said that you met a girl,” the queen said, her back stiff with disapproval. “You didn’t mention that you met this girl in Ardenscourt.”
“As I told you, it’s a long story.”
A story that he hasn’t told, up to now, Evan thought. And that gave him an opportunity.
“The good news is that Jenna is very much alive,” he said. “In fact, I just saw her on the coast, near Chalk Cliffs.”
“Chalk Cliffs,” the healer repeated. Hope flickered in his eyes for a moment. “Why would she be in Chalk Cliffs, and how would she get there?”
“Apparently, Chalk Cliffs is the place to be,” Evan said. “We did not have a long conversation, because she was accompanied by a large and surly dragon. They flew off together.”
The hope in the healer’s eyes was crowded off by disbelief and hostility. He shook his head, dismissing Evan, and turned to the queen. “So. What story is this pirate telling you?”
The wolf queen folded her arms, as if to fend off lies from pirates and errant sons. “He says he came to warn us about an empress from across the Indio who may be planning to attack the Realms. He claimed that the entire east coast was at risk.”
“Interesting,” the healer said. “Just a few weeks ago, he was in Ardenscourt, negotiating with the king, and claiming to be the empress’s representative.”
The look in the wolf queen’s eyes was a familiar one—one Evan had seen on the healer too many times. He resisted the impulse to protect his throat.
Just then, Shadow Dancer gripped the healer’s arm. “Speaks to Horses,” he said. “What does this Jenna look like?”
Speaks to Horses? Evan thought. How many names can one person have? I’m a slacker next to him.
It took the healer a moment or two to tear himself away from the argument. He turned to the uplander and said, “Her hair was wavy, metallic-looking, streaked with copper, and she had golden eyes.”
Evan noticed that he used the past tense. He doesn’t believe me, he thought.
“A girl approached me in Middlesea,” Shadow said. “She wanted some leatherwork done. She said her name was Riley, but, from your description, it sounds like the same person.”
Now the healer’s full attention was on Shadow. “Riley? That was Jenna’s friend when she was little. She sometimes used that name herself.” He looked from Shadow to Evan and back to the uplander. “What kind of leatherwork?”
“She had drawn a pattern for it, but it was like nothing I’d seen before. It was a harness, but it was huge, and oddly shaped. She claimed she rode the gryphons and elyphants in the circus and needed new gear for a growing gryphon. Sparrow made it, and Riley picked it up in Fortress Rocks.”
“When was that?”
“A few weeks ago. I was on my way back from Arden.”
Evan was beginning to feel a bit superfluous, which was fine with him. The reception was apparently over, and the room had emptied out during their conversation. He began to edge away, but the queen noticed, and raised her hand to stop him.
“Captain Strangward,” she said. “We need to continue this conversation in a more private place, after I have spoken to my son, and to Shadow Dancer, and collected more information. I hope you will understand that we’ll need
