“Shadows . . .” the hissing voice said. Relam’s eyes widened in horror and he gestured for Aven to retreat quickly, back to the main corridor before they were discovered. Aven began moving silently back, eyes wide, sweat beading on his brow. Relam followed, scarcely daring to breathe.
“That’s what I’m saying! You have no chance of being caught at your little game!”
“Quiet fool! Don’t you see? Shadows! There! Where the corridor turns.”
Horrified, Relam realized that he had placed himself and Aven in one of the worst possible positions. The lantern behind them was throwing shadows against the walls at the place where the corridor turned, clearly visible to the two men conversing around the corner.
“We are discovered!” the murmuring man said frantically.
“Back to the hall!” the other voice hissed.
Relam heard footsteps racing back down the corridor. He considered pursuing them, then gave the thought up. These were dangerous men, up to no good. Instead, he continued to follow Aven back to the main corridor. As soon as they were safe in the midst of a throng of servers, Aven leaned over to speak with Relam.
“What was that all about? And who were those men?”
Relam shook his head. “I don’t know. We may be able to catch them though if we fetch Narin. They’re leaving through the banquet hall, remember.”
“We won’t be able to pick them out,” Aven protested. “We never saw them.”
“We heard them. Besides, they’re criminals by the sound of things. They should be easy to pick out.”
“No, Relam, wait, there’s something you’re forgetting,” Aven said quickly. “One of them addressed the other as ‘my lord’.”
Relam stopped abruptly and looked down at Aven. “One of them is a noble.”
“Yes. And maybe the other as well. And with the entire Assembly here, they’ll blend in pretty well.”
Relam scratched his head, trying to remember as much as he could about the conversation, if there was anything he could use to recognize the conspirators. The voices had been vaguely familiar, but distorted. When the murmuring man had raised his voice, Relam had nearly identified him but he still couldn’t quite place it.
“Relam, they were plotting to kill someone,” Aven remembered. “They’ve been trying for a year.”
“Yes,” Relam agreed, remembering. “But who . . . ?”
He looked down at Aven horrified. “A year,” he murmured. “Do you remember what happened a year ago?”
“The assassins,” Aven said immediately. “They attacked you and your family this month last year.”
“And very nearly succeeded,” Relam agreed. “But these conspirators were talking about an individual.”
“Oh,” Aven said, shoulders slumping. “You’re right. For a moment, I thought we had found him.”
“Who?” Relam asked, not quite following.
“The master of the assassins,” Aven replied, shrugging. “The one those prisoners were so afraid of.”
“Prisoners,” Relam muttered. “I should question them again, see if they know anything more. Did you hear anything else that might help us?”
“They’re after a woman,” Aven muttered. “Something about her death will cripple him.”
“Whoever her and him are,” Relam muttered.
“Your mother,” Aven said suddenly.
“What about her?”
“She’s been ill, right?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
Relam frowned, thinking. “A long while.”
“A year?”
The prince stared at Aven, openmouthed.
“No,” he muttered. “No, no, I have to get back, to warn them.”
“Warn who?”
“My father, the healers, anyone that can help. They need to know that someone has been trying to kill my mother and that they just tried again recently.”
Relam took off at a run, Aven close behind him. They hurtled up the stairwell and into the narrow corridor that led to the royal apartments. Relam hardly paused at the concealed door, bursting through it and tripping as he emerged, tumbling to the ground with Aven on top of him. As he fell, he heard a multiple rasp of steel on leather as swords were drawn. Then, his head struck a leg of one of the dining chairs, setting his ears ringing.
“Your highness!” a voice shouted.
Relam shook his head, wincing. “Yes?” he asked, slightly dazed.
“Are you all right? What’s going on? Aven, get off him lad, and help me.”
Relam felt Aven struggle to his feet, then the prince was hauled to a standing position, leaning on the guard commander, Narin. “I just dispatched guards to look for you,” he said gently. “Your father is waiting.”
“My father?”
“Yes, in your mother’s sick room.”
“Oh, right,” Relam said, remembering. “He wanted to stand vigil with me.”
Narin frowned. “I’m afraid there’s no need for that anymore, your highness,” he said gently.
“What do you mean?” Relam asked uncertainly, shaking his head again. Finally, his vision refocused and his ears stopped ringing. He looked at Narin and saw tears beading in the craggy warrior’s hard eyes.
“Narin, what’s happened?”
“I’m sorry, your highness,” the guard commander said, struggling with every word. “The queen is no more.”
The words struck Relam like a physical blow. He staggered, and had he not been supported by Narin and Aven he would have fallen backwards. He shook his head wordlessly, denying the awful news.
“No,” he muttered, over and over. “No, it can’t be.”
“Your highness?” Narin asked, leaning over and peering at him. “Are you alright?”
Relam raised his gaze to look at Narin and blinked slowly. The guard commander seemed to be drifting back and forth. Relam took a step forward, and collapsed, his legs failing him.
“Guards!” Narin shouted. “Lend a hand here!”
A terrible rage was building inside the young prince. He had failed. He was too late. But he could make up for it. He would see the queen himself, then set off to avenge her. The conspirators would not win. He had
