'How long ago did Vaerana put me in my bed?' Ruha demanded.
The two guards glanced nervously at each other, then Jarvis said, 'Actually, I laid you in the bed.'
Ruha raised a hand to her face. 'You removed my veil?'
Jarvis looked first confused, then embarrassed. 'The Lady Constable commanded me to-er, she said that you deserved your rest-'
'Vaerana said that?' Ruha could hardly imagine those words coming from the Lady Constable's lips.
'Yes, about three hours ago. She rushed up the stairs and right back down again.' Jarvis glanced at his com- panion, then added, 'She ordered me to see that you rested comfortably, and to tell you she would look in on you when she returned.'
'Kozah take her for an impatient she-camel!'
Jarvis scowled at that outburst. 'There's no need for calling names. She was only trying to be considerate-and that's a rare thing for Vaerana Hawklyn.'
'It would have been considerate to wake me!' Ruha retorted. 'She was taking advantage of my fatigue. How soon will she return?'
Jarvis shrugged. 'She was dressed for battle.'
Ruha cursed again, this time under her breath. 'And what of Captain Fowler? I told you to fetch me if he asked.'
'He has not asked,' Jarvis replied stiffly.
Ruha sighed in relief. If Fowler had not come for her, she could still spring her trap. 'I want one of you to come with me, so you can show Vaerana where I am hiding.'
'Hiding?'
'It is for the good ofYanseldara. That is all you need to know, Jarvis.'
Ruha started across the drawbridge without waiting for the guard to agree. Before she reached the other side, Jarvis's heavy steps were booming across the thick planks behind her.
'We're not supposed to leave our posts,' he complained.
'And Vaerana was supposed to speak with me before she left. Because she did not, we must now improvise.'
They descended the stairs and retraced the meander- ing path to Silavia's kitchen. With the door and shutters all closed, the place looked as dark and silent as the other sheds built along this section of the wall. Wonder ing how those inside could tolerate the cloying smell of vlang oil without opening the windows, Ruha slipped beneath an unruly wax myrtle. She settled into a hiding olace so deliberately uncomfortable that she would not fall asleep, then sent Jarvis back to Pearl Tower.
A long, bone-aching time later, Ruha began to debate the wisdom of going to check on Tombor's progress. She had expected it to take him quite some time to press all eight sacks of ylang blossoms, but the first gray hint of false dawn had already appeared in the eastern sky.
Household servants were beginning to trudge about their morning tasks, and it would not be long before some passing groom or maid discovered the witch lurking in the bushes.
Ruha heard the crunch of heavy boots coming down the path. She backed out from beneath the wax myrtle and saw Jarvis and Vaerana approaching. All thoughts of chiding the Lady Constable about last night's departure quickly vanished from Ruha's mind. Vaerana was limping badly, with one arm hanging slack at her side and the side of her face so swollen it looked as if she had been kicked by a horse. What remained of her tattered jerkin was black with half-dried blood, and even her boots looked as though someone had tried to cut them off her feet.
'What happened to you?'
Vaerana squatted beside Ruha. 'Ambush.' The word came out mushy and difficult to understand. 'They were waiting.'
'And I know who told them you were coming.' Ruha resisted the temptation to point out that Vaerana could have avoided the beating by awakening her last night.
'The Cult of the Dragon has a spy inside Moonstorm
House.'
A murderous glint flared in Vaerana's eyes. 'Who?'
Ruha pointed toward the kitchen, where a pair of scullery wenches were just entering the door. 'The spy will reveal himself soon enough.'
Vaerana's hand drifted toward the blood-smeared hilt of her sword. 'What's the sense in waiting? Let's get him now.'
Ruha laid a restraining hand on the Lady Constable's arm. 'Wait. He is going to lead us to the dragon's lair
That's what I was trying to tell you last night.'
Vaerana scowled. 'Then why didn't you?'
'Because I would have ruined the trap,' Ruha explained. 'The traitor was-'
The witch was interrupted by a muffled shriek from inside the kitchen. The door burst open and both scullery wenches came rushing outside. One woman held her hands over her mouth, while the other waved her arms at the door and yelled incoherently. With a sinking stom- ach, Ruha leapt up and raced toward the shed behind Vaerana and Jarvis. Vaerana pulled the crying wench out of the way and led Jarvis and Ruha into the kitchen.
The room was as dark as pitch, for all of the candles and tallow lamps had been extinguished. The cloying perfume ofylang blossoms lingered in the air, though not heavily enough to disguise a coppery, more familiar scent: blood. A few steps inside the door, the Lady Constable suddenly stopped and squatted on her haunches.
'Fetch a light.'
As Jarvis left to do his mistress's bidding, Ruha knelt close to Vaerana and ran her hands over the floor. It did not take long to find Silavia's plump, cool body lying face- down on the wooden planks. There was a soft, sticky mess where the back other head should have been.
'Who did this?' Vaerana demanded.
'A cult spy.' Ruha no longer felt any joy in her coming vindication, in large part because they were going to find another body in the kitchen and she knew who it would be. 'This is my fault. Had I not fallen asleep-'
'This is no time for blaming yourself!' Vaerana snapped. 'Just tell me about this spy.'
'There were only two people in the kitchen with Silavia: Tombor and Fowler.'
'You think Tusks did this?' Vaerana scoffed. 'And I was beginning to think you might not be such a bungler!'
Ruha bit her tongue. A sharp retort would do nothing to bring Fowler back, and even less to convince Vaerana ofTombor's betrayal. The Lady Constable would realize the truth for herself soon enough.
Jarvis returned with a lit candle, which he promptly used to find and light several tallow lamps. As the flick- ering light illuminated the room, it became apparent that Silavia had been struck down as she fled, for she had left a short trail of bloody footsteps behind her. The rest of the kitchen looked normal enough; there were no tables overturned, the room was not strewn with uten- sils, and the walls were mercifully unspattered with blood.
Ruha took Jarvis's candle and led the way toward the pantry. The oil press was not on the table where it should have been, but she quickly forgot about that as she stepped around the corner of the table and saw Fowler's stout body sprawled on the floor. The captain was lying amidst a pool of dark blood, with the handle of a long butcher knife protruding from the middle of his back. His neck was turned at an impossible angle, and his astonished gray eyes were staring straight ahead. Vaerana slipped past Ruha and crouched down beside Fowler. 'So much for your spy.'
'I did not say that Fowler was the spy.' Ruha's tone was sharper than she intended, for she was boiling over with anger and guilt. 'I was speaking of your friend, Tombor the Jolly.'
Vaerana's jaw dropped. 'You think Tombor…?'
Ruha nodded. 'He was the only one in the room.'
The Lady Constable rose, shaking her head. 'Not Tombor. He saved-'
'I know; he saved you from the cult's assassins, more than once.' Ruha paused, giving Vaerana time to draw her own conclusions. When the witch saw no sudden gleam of understanding in the Lady Constable's eyes, she said, 'The attacks weren't real. They were a trick to win your confidence.'
A look of humiliation flashed across Vaerana's face, but it vanished as abruptly as it had appeared. 'You don'tknow that.'
