“Thank you, my betrothed,” Gael said. Her voice dipped into that register that made it hard to think.
She took the tray and closed the door without giving me a chance to reply. I raised my hand to knock again . . . but thought better of it. She probably wouldn’t answer anyway.
When I turned, I saw Rory eating like only adolescents could, but Bolt eyed me with an understated smirk. “Never pick a fight you know you’re going to lose.”
I shook my head, trying to clear the image of the way the silk had clung to Gael’s form. “How am I supposed to know when I’m picking a fight?”
“Ha,” Rory said. “With you it’s not hard. You open your mouth and say something.”
I sat and poured myself a glass of wine to go with the meal. “We’re going to wait for a few hours,” I said. “If nothing happens by then, we’re going hunting.”
Rory and Bolt donned opposing expressions, one gleeful, the other resigned.
Chapter 52
“It might help if you shared exactly what you intend to do,” Bolt said.
“I need to see the king.”
It was pitch black. I heard a whisper of sound as Rory dropped to his belly next to the door. “There’s no light on the far side,” he said. “But I can’t tell if there are guards or not, and I don’t have any oil to keep the lock quiet.”
“I’ll take care of any guards,” Bolt said.
I heard the soft clink of Rory’s picks, and Bolt drew a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. “That you want to do this in the middle of the night says you suspect something important enough to merit imprisonment. Pellin’s not here to bargain for your release, and even if he was, he might choose not to.”
“The king’s illness comes under my authority,” I said.
Bolt whispered a curse. “Why do you think that?”
“The solas powder. The light isn’t strange or exotic the way I’d expect it to be for court. It gives off the same color as the powder Myle gave us in Bunard. It’s artificial sunlight. Boclar is using it to keep his vault from opening.”
Bolt sighed. “That would explain why he’s here and not with his army.”
“Why would he go into the forest?” Rory asked.
“That’s pretty high on the list of questions I intend to ask him,” I said.
“Fair enough,” Bolt said. “But why now? You could just wait until he sends for us.”
I didn’t answer, choosing instead to let Bolt come to his own conclusion.
His hand found my upper arm without any fumbling, and I envied him his gift. Tomorrow, I’d have bruises there. “What are you planning, Willet?”
“Right now, I want to speak with the king. I might need the use of both arms tomorrow,” I added.
He let go at the same time a soft click came from Rory’s direction. He opened the door to empty darkness beyond. “They didn’t guard the door,” Rory said. “That’s bad.”
Bolt grunted his agreement. “They’re probably giving us the opportunity to hang ourselves.”
“Can you get us to the king?” I asked Bolt.
“Maybe. I know where the royal quarters used to be, but if they’ve been moved or if the king has elected not to use them for some reason, we’re going to be reduced to wandering around Boclar’s citadel. I’ll let you imagine what will happen to us when we’re caught.”
“Let’s focus on the next step,” I said.
“We’ll need to retrace our way back to the audience chamber,” Bolt said. “Boclar’s apartments are east of it.”
Rory stirred beside me. “I’d like to know why they’re keeping this wing of the citadel so dark.”
Before I could answer, the metallic ping of flint striking steel prefaced a flare of light bursting in front of me.
Pain lanced through my eyes and I screamed. Bolt crashed into my shoulder, sending me sprawling, and I heard the whine of steel as he drew.
“I can’t see!” Rory screamed.
“Put down your weapons,” a voice commanded, “or Lord Dura dies. I have half a dozen men with crossbows trained on his heart. You can’t take them all before one of them fires. At this range they can’t miss.”
Bolt’s shove had put me thirty feet away and left me in a heap. I blinked, trying to see, but my eyes were filled with the green afterimage of solas fire. I stood and bowed toward the voice. “Good evening, Your Highness,” I said lightly. “I assumed my message had been misplaced, so I elected to come see you.
“If I wished to see you, Lord Dura, I would have told you.”
“You did tell me,” I said. “You locked our door but left it unguarded.”
She laughed, but there was no sound of humor in it. “You misinterpreted my father’s trust for license. You may see him in the morning.”
I lifted my hands. “Forgive me. Customs are a bit different up north.” I blinked a few times in quick succession and thought I could make out dark blobs that might have been people. “You and your father need me tonight, Your Highness. What happens if the powder runs out?”
To her credit, she played her hand until the end. “I don’t think the apothecaries are in any danger of running short of anguicaine powder, Lord Dura.”
I didn’t answer her in kind. Erendella might use any excuse to deny me. “That’s not the powder I’m referring to, Your Highness.”
“I could have you shot and tell my father you were mistaken for thieves,” she said after a moment.
Silence fell in the room, and I felt rather than heard Bolt and Rory tense. Smudges of light intruded on my vision. How well could Bolt and Rory see?
“Is the solas powder burning for him now?” I asked.
“No,” she said softly. “We have to husband what we have. There’s not enough to last each night.”
“There’s nothing I can do while he raves,” I said.
