Chapter 26

A nyka stared in disbelief at Wyett. "Greybone is in the cells here? You're sure?"

He nodded. "Yes, my lady. Word came from Mucklow, who overheard some of the stablehands talking. Seems plausible. We know Queen Sparrow has returned."

Hawke, sitting on the couch, grunted. "You believe Mucklow?"

"Yes, I do." Mucklow was her stablemaster and a good man. She trusted him. If he said he'd heard the tracker she'd hired was now imprisoned in the Willow Hall holding cells, she had no reason to doubt him. He would not want to incur her wrath. "There's no way Greybone brought Lady Cynzia back with him if he returned as Sparrow's prisoner."

Wyett shook his head. "It's not likely, your highness. However, just because he was captured doesn't mean he might not still have some value."

"Perhaps." She let her mind wander. Could Greybone have found Lady Cynzia and hidden her away somewhere safe? To be collected when he was able to get free? Anything was possible, wasn't it? She might not have thought so just a few days ago, but as her Minister of Magic was currently housing an undead spirit inside him, she'd begun to entertain all sorts of thoughts. "I will go see him, find out the truth for myself. You and Trog will accompany me. Hawke, I have something else I need you to do."

Hawke's eyes narrowed, but he kept quiet.

"As you wish," Wyett said. "When would you like to go?"

"An hour or so. Nightfall. When it's quieter, we'll be less likely to be interrupted or overheard. Until then, you're dismissed."

"Thank you, my lady." With a bow, he departed.

She turned to Hawke, taking a seat at the opposite end of the couch from him. They were essentially alone, other than Trog standing near the door. Ishmyel had gone to check on Nazyr and see if there was any change. "Have you found out anything about the prince and aunt?"

He shrugged. "The aunt is rarely without her friend, a woman named Posey who's been hired by Queen Sparrow as a secretary. And neither the son nor the aunt are ever without their guards, unless they're in the royal apartment, which is guarded round the clock."

Anyka frowned. "Any ideas on how to get one of them alone?"

"The son often trains with his guard. If I was going to take him, I'd do it then, when he was tired from practicing and his guard distracted. As for the aunt…"

"The aunt is a better choice. Weaker, older, less likely to fight back. She was like a mother to Sparrow, from what I've been able to gather. That bond will mean Sparrow will do anything to get her back."

Hawke nodded. "I agree. Where is Sparrow's actual mother?"

"I have no idea. The mortal realm, I presume. I don't know and I don't care. We must act now. I am tired of all these games. Find a way to take the aunt."

"When I do, I'll have to take her back to Malveaux. It's the only way to keep the Summerton guards from coming after her."

"Obviously." Sometimes, she felt like she had to do all the thinking.

"You realize that will cause war." He held his hands up. "Which I am not against, as you know, but without Lady Cynzia's grimoire, I don't know if we will be victorious. The Radiant have strong magic."

"We have strong magic, too."

"Even with Nazyr in his current state, my lady?" Hawke frowned. "Or do you believe Grylan powerful enough to take over his position?"

"I…I don't know." She fell back against the chair, frustrated, angry, and utterly done with all of it. After a moment, she met his gaze again. "What I do know is that I am tired of all of this. I want Lady Cynzia's grimoire back and I want it now. It belongs to Malveaux. Lady Cynzia is Grym. If anyone has started a war, it's Queen Sparrow. She took what does not belong to her. I have every right to demand that book be returned to me."

"May I respectfully suggest that you make that demand? Just tell her outright that it's Malveaux's property and not returning it will be considered an act of war. She's all about peace between our nations. Show her hypocrisy to the realm. See what she does then."

Anyka put a finger to her lips. "You mean confront her directly?"

"To her face," Hawke said. "Somewhere public. Like the dining hall. Do it in front of an audience, so it's public. She won't want to be seen as a warmonger to her people. Not after everything she's promised them."

"I must think."

Before she could, Ishmyel returned. He frowned as soon as he saw her. "Why are you cross with me? My dear niece, with all respect, I would like to know."

Anyka's brows bent in confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not cross with you."

"I passed you in the hall on my way to Nazyr's and you ignored me. I greeted you and you said nothing."

She wondered if her uncle had been at the brandy again. "I have been here, in my quarters, since dinner."

The face he made said he didn't believe her. "I am not senile. I know what I saw." He snorted air through his nostrils. "I swear it, Anyka, these games you play grow wearisome."

She didn't think he'd ever spoken to her quite like this before. Being here, sharing space with the Radiant, was putting them all under stress. "And I swear on the throne that I have not left these rooms."

The anger left his face, and he ran his hand over his head. "I don't understand it. I swear it, I saw you in the hall. I know I have more years than you, but my eyesight is sharp, and my mind is still with me."

"I don't know what to tell you, uncle. But I do have other news. Sparrow and her lot have returned from Hythe, and they brought Greybone back with them as a prisoner."

Ishmyel took a seat in the chair nearest her. "What? How?"

"I don't know. Mucklow overheard some stablehands talking and sent word. I'm going shortly to the holding cells where Greybone is being kept. I want to know what happened and if he was able to find Lady Cynzia, or at least get information about her." Not to mention deal with him.

"Do you want me to go with you?"

She didn't, but perhaps it would be good for him. "You may come. Hawke, you might as well accompany us. In fact, let's go. I'm tired of not knowing what happened." She got to her feet and called down the hall. "Wyett?"

He appeared quickly. "My lady?"

"We're going to the holding cells. All of us. You know the way?"

"I do."

"Lead on then."

Wyett gestured to the daggers at her waist. "Weapons must be left at the entrance, or the Willow Hall guards won't let us in. Do you think we should leave them here?"

"We'll take them with us. If they make us leave them, so be it."

From the portal to the first floor, Wyett took them through the maze of the palace's corridors, another set of steps down, then another, and finally, they approached a thick wooden door with a barred opening, guarded by one of Willow Hall's own.

He came to attention at Anyka's arrival. He bowed briefly and, to her mind, insufficiently.

"I wish to speak to the prisoner you're holding." She knew what would happen next. He'd deny her entrance, refuse to open the door, call for assistance. Something of that nature. She braced for it, preparing to use her royal power to circumvent him.

He raised his hand toward a sign on the other side of the door. "No weapons allowed inside, your highness."

There was a narrow table under the sign. Anyka and her entourage shed their weapons, filling the table with an assortment of blades.

"Very good." The guard reached for the key at his belt. "Just a moment, your highness."

She watched in disbelief as he unlocked the door, opened it, and stepped aside. She had genuinely expected a fuss. She strode into the holding cells. Only a few sconces lit the long hall. The corridor was divided into sections on both sides, each one fronted with bars but made private with a solid stone wall in between.

The place was damp and dreary and altogether unsettling. She walked forward, checking in each cell, trying to shake a strange feeling that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. "Greybone?"

A hand appeared from between the bars at the very end. She walked toward him, then turned and looked in the cell opposite his. There was no one there. That did nothing to diminish the sensation that she was being watched. Some protective magic, no doubt.

"Have you come to get me out?" he asked, stepping back. Out of reach.

She turned to face him. "I have come to find out what happened." She stared at him behind the bars, his jocular attitude gone as he slumped on the wide shelf that served as both bench and bed.

Greybone heaved out a sigh and stared right back. "You didn't tell me Gabriel Nightborne was the queen's personal guard or that she employed a skilled wizard or even that the queen and her party were going to be in my way."

"What of it?" She gave a casual shrug. "I hired you to bring Lady Cynzia back to me. I assumed you would be able to do that regardless of the obstacles in your way."

He stood up and walked closer to the bars. "Lady Cynzia is dead . You sent me on a pointless quest. How could you think after that many years she'd still be alive?"

She inched forward. "How dare you speak to me that way?"

He snorted. "You're not my queen. I claim no kingdom. You are only my employer and you've yet to pay me the rest of what I was promised."

"Nor will I, because you didn't deliver."

His brows lifted and his rebellious smirk took on a smugness she saw no reason for. "Then I guess I'll keep what I learned to myself."

"What did you learn?"

He held out his hand. "Do you have the rest of my gold?"

"Information first."

"I'm a tracker, not an imbecile. Gold or I stay silent."

The weight of the coins tugged her chatelaine purse. She'd brought the gold on the slight chance that he'd somehow brought Lady Cynzia back and hidden her nearby. Anyka hesitated. What might Greybone know?

With a grunt of displeasure, she dug the sack of coins free and tossed them through the bars. "There. What information do you have for me?"

Greybone opened the pouch and poked around in it before he answered, the coins clinking softly against one another. "The Wyvern king gave Queen Sparrow Lady Cynzia's ashes. Her wizard promised to use them to create a spell of protection for both kingdoms. A spell of protection against you."

Ashes were a powerful tool in creating dark magic. There was no telling what might be done with Lady Cynzia's ashes, what spells might be created, what dark forces might be conjured up. "Where are the ashes? Who has them?"

He went back to the wide shelf and sat. "Get me out of here and I will procure them for you."

She shook her head. "Tell me who has them. The queen? The wizard? Nightborne?"

Greybone weighed the sack of coins in one hand. "What would you do with them? They're just ashes."

He was a fool. "If I can't have Lady Cynzia's help with her grimoire, her ashes are the next best thing."

He rolled his eyes and propped one foot up on the bed. "Ashes aren't going to help you figure out her spells."

She gripped the bars and peered through them at the insolent man lounging about like he was having a holiday. "No, but they could help me get that grimoire back. Or maybe I'll just use them to destroy Summerton once and for all."

"Is that so?" Greybone laughed. "Best of luck with that but I think her wizard is going to make sure that can never happen." He set the pouch down and gazed off dreamily. "I hear Summerton prisons are almost as nice as this place."

A slow smile spread across Anyka's face. "So the wizard has the ashes." She let go of the bars. There was no reason to kill Greybone here, no reason to create that kind of complication for herself. "And you think you're going to be in a Summerton prison?"

He nodded slowly, confidently, like it was a foregone conclusion. "Even the prisoners get a weekly ration of blackberry brandy. Did you know that?"

She scowled at him. "What I know is that having you in Summerton means I will be rid of you at the same time that I am rid of that blasted queen. War is coming and you've chosen the wrong side."