Thero’s page, Wethis, met Prince Korathan as he was leaving his chambers to join his sister for breakfast.

“Your Highness, Lord Vicegerent,” the young man said, bowing politely and holding out a folded parchment sealed with Thero’s mark. “Lord Thero sends a message.”

Korathan dismissed the page and read the letter as he continued on down the long corridor between his rooms and his sister’s. Phoria had finished with her breakfast and gone out to the gardens outside her salon. He found her there, walking slowly along the eastern path, admiring the last of the autumn flowers. She was dressed for court; her hair was twisted into looping braids behind her head, and her blue velvet gown and cape were stiff with gold embroidery.

She waved him over and linked arms with him. “Walk with me, Kor.”

He covered her hand with his own and fell into step beside her. “I’ve had word from Thero.”

“What did your wizard have to say? Can he help?”

“Yes, but not in the way I’d hoped. He feels it would be best if he went to Aurënen to view the site of the massacre. He means to take Sir Micum Cavish of Watermead with him.”

“Another Watcher, I believe?” She plucked a yellow aster and twirled it absently between her fingers.

“Perhaps, but he’s a fine tracker, and he knows Seregil’s ways. If they managed to leave any kind of sign, Micum is the one to find it. Let Thero and Cavish attend to this for you.”

“Very well,” she replied, frowning.

Korathan was used to these sudden changes and took no offense. “They are the best suited to the task.”

“I trust your judgment, Brother. And if Klia sails into Rhíminee Harbor at the head of an Aurënfaie fleet?”

“If she did, Phoria, it would be to support you.”

“So you say.” Her frown deepened as she crushed the blossom. “You always take her side.”

He gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. “Only when you are unfairly suspicious of her.”

“She was always Mother’s favorite.”

“And yet you are the queen. She was the youngest, that’s all. Mother always cared for you.”

Phoria tossed the ruined flower away. “Be that as it may, my patience is nearing its end. And, Kor?”

“Yes?”

Her hard gaze softened to concern. “You won’t let your heart blind you, will you?”

“About Klia?”

“No…him.”

“That was a long time ago, Phoria. You know where my loyalty lies. And my heart.”

She kissed his cheek. “My good brother. You know you’re the only one I can trust completely.”

Korathan gave her an awkward, one-armed hug. “Always, dear sister. Always.”

Taking his leave, he called for his horse and rode to the Orëska House. He’d been here so often lately that no one stood on ceremony anymore. One of the house stewards escorted him directly upstairs.

The sunny workroom was deserted. The steward pulled out a chair for him, then went to a side door and knocked softly.

Thero emerged, dressed in a stained robe and apron. He was flushed, and there was ash dusting his hair and shoulders and chalk dust on his knees.

“I’ve interrupted you.”

“Not at all, Highness.” Thero rubbed at a small burn on his cheek but only managed to smear more soot there. “I attempted a few other searching spells, but they were no help.”

“Phoria is getting impatient but has agreed to let you and Micum go south.”

“Ah.” Thero walked over to the table and poured them each a cup of tea. Handing Korathan his, he sat down beside him. “Then perhaps you will not be angry with me for the steps I’ve taken. I’ve exhausted all methods. I’ve cast dozens of wizards’ eyes. I can find no sign of them between Bôkthersa and Gedre, but I may have missed them. It’s a very large area. But I can tell you now with certainty that Klia has had no word from them, either.”

“You’ve spoken with her?”

“Well, yes, actually.” Thero looked a bit embarrassed at the admission, then explained the spell he’d employed. “I apprised her of the situation. She assured me that she remains completely loyal to the queen and plans to return at once. I wanted to speak with you before I passed the information on to her Majesty.”

“Bilairy’s Balls, man, if you could do that, why did Phoria have to go to all the trouble of sending Seregil?”

“You’d have to ask her that. I did offer, the day I came back.”

“I see.” Korathan pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the start of a headache behind his eyes. “Tell me what Klia said and I’ll couch it properly for Phoria’s ears. In the meantime, I want you to go there at once. You can do it quickly, can’t you, with one of those sort of traveling spells?”

“A translocation? I’ve never managed it, but Magyana can cast them. I’ll speak with her, and we’ll go as soon as Micum arrives. But you do understand that even if we learn what direction they were taken, it’s no guarantee that we can track them?”

“Do what you can and report to me directly.”

Thero smiled and bowed. “Of course, Highness. But you’re not suggesting I reinstitute the Watchers against the queen’s express order?”

“Certainly not. But as Vicegerent, I’m entitled-no, obligated-to protect the Throne in any manner I can, and I’d not be the first to have spies of my own. Anything you might need, I will provide.”

“Thank you, Highness.” He paused a moment, then added, “I don’t believe Seregil would do anything to provoke trouble between Phoria and Klia, regardless of his feelings toward either one. It had to be an ambush.”

“I believe that, too, Thero, but this business of them being the only ones not killed worries me. If it really was slavers, why not take them all? Are you prepared to deal with them if they actually have deserted?”

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” Thero assured him, keeping to himself that his solution would be to tell them to keep on running. “Trust in them as you would me, Korathan. They would not betray your trust of their own volition. Something’s gone very wrong. If they’re anywhere to be found, Micum and I will find them.”

The prince clasped hands with him. “Go, then, with my blessing and the queen’s.”

CHAPTER 30 Watcher Business

MICUM WAVED OFF the Orëska doorkeeper who mistook him for a stranger. It had been a while, he supposed.

He took the stairs slowly, hampered by his bad leg and stick. As soon as he reached Thero’s landing, however, he straightened and concentrated on striding normally. The thick scar on the back of his thigh always stiffened during a long ride, but once he got moving he could get around well enough, so long as he didn’t have to sprint.

Thero answered his knock, already dressed for travel. The young wizard’s time in Aurënen had changed him, and for the better. The sallow complexion and thin-lipped, brittle demeanor were gone; Thero was sun-browned and looked fitter than he had in Nysander’s time. Seregil had always maintained that Thero needed to spend more time outside the Orëska House, and it appeared he’d been right.

“Magyana’s on her way,” Thero told him, hustling him to the workroom, where a small pack and several bags sat ready on a bench. “Have you eaten? I’m sure the khirnari will feed us when we arrive. He’s expecting us soon and I-”

Micum laughed. “It’s all right, Thero. I’m ready when you are, and just as anxious to be off.”

Thero paused and gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I haven’t been able to think about anything but leaving. Thank you for getting here so quickly.”

“Well, you did interrupt a good breakfast yesterday with that message light of yours,” Micum reminded him.

Thero looked blank for a moment. “Oh! I disturbed your lady.”

“In more ways than one.”

“She’s not happy to see you back to Watcher business, is she?”

“No.” And if it had been for anyone but Alec and Seregil, she would have thrown more things at him than she had, and sharper ones, too. Being the cause of her tears, and Illia’s, had hurt far worse, though.