Page 34

“I did,” Cressida answers seamlessly. She waves her hand in front of her as if the matter is of little import. “It seemed a good time to pull out all our tricks.”

Alvira scoffs. “The iskra witch is hardly that.”

“In any case, Your Majesty, we were unable to locate her,” comes the voice of someone unseen. A guard.

Alvira pauses. “You went over the river?” she asks.

“Yes, ma’am. When she did not respond to our signals, we crossed the river to find her.”

Alvira swallows discreetly, her eyes remaining trained. “Without orders to do so,” she quips. An aching silence follows, broken only by the clearing of someone’s throat, the slight jostling of the guards’ armour. “So the iskra witch is missing?”

“Yes, ma’am,” comes the answer. “We found her cabin, but that was not all, Your Majesty. It seems that she knew to expect us. We found a letter. Addressed to you.”

Ruby’s heart pounds. She watches as a guard comes into view, approaching the throne with his head bowed and his hand outstretched. In it is a folded piece of parchment, blotted with a wax seal.

Alvira takes the letter, suspicion clear on her face. She holds it up to the light, turning it over in her spindly fingers. “Very well,” she says without looking back to her audience. “Go.”

The sound of clanking steel announces the departure of the guards and in their absence the throne room becomes eerily silent. Even the sound of Alvira’s breaths echo.

Ruby watches as the Queen slits the wax seal with her fingernail, and as she does so, something falls into her lap. Something too small for Ruby to make out.

Alvira retrieves it and holds the small object at eye level, her expression clearly bemused. If only Ruby could make it out. She presses closer, squinting, trying to see–

“You might as well come out, Ruby,” Queen Alvira says dispassionately. She does not bother to look in the direction of the concealed door. “You did orchestrate the witch hunt after all, I presume?”

Bile descends into Ruby’s stomach; her spine turns rigid.

“Come out, little rat,” Alvira beckons. “No use scurrying away into the walls now. Let us see what you make of this.”

Ruby draws in a deep breath; her pulse hammers, her hands sweat. Despite it, she is determined to walk out of this hole with her chin held high.

Cressida’s eyes flash with something like fury as Ruby steps into the light of the throne room.Stupid girl,they seem to say.

In contrast, Alvira does not deign to spare Ruby a glance. “Whatever your intentions were in fetching yourself a witch,” she says, “it seems they have been lain to waste.”

Ruby speaks quickly, before she loses all nerve. “I only sought her assistance,” she says, “in locating Dawsyn Sabar and her… band.”

“Her band?” Alvira repeats, the inflections lashing the air. “Is it a rebellion she leads, or a merry crew of misfits?”

Ruby says nothing. Her years at Alvira’s knees have taught her when to stay silent.

“Well, it seems the jollybandhas gained itself an iskra witch,” the Queen continues. “Yennes is with Dawsyn Sabar as we speak.”

Ruby’s eyes widen. She stares at the parchment in Alvira’s hand, wishing it were transparent. How did Dawsyn come to find the iskra witch? How did she convince a woman so timid to follow her to the Ledge?

Whatever questions arise, they are suddenly thwarted by something more alarming; Alvira does not scowl at the parchment before her. She does not crush it between her hands at having lost another asset in this battle. No. Instead, the Queen’s eyes glint. She grips the page with something akin to mania. She smiles, and it reminds Ruby of animals. Wolves.

“You shall have to thank whatever saints you pray to, Ruby,” Alvira states. “They have indeed provided you with a way to redeem yourself.”

Cressida’s eyes spark with warning, flicking between Alvira and Ruby.Careful,she seems to say.

With energy that belies her age, the Queen alights her throne. She walks briskly past Ruby, shoving the letter and the object it encased in her hands as she sweeps by. “You have a journey ahead of you, Ruby. Alert me when your scouting party is ready.” And just before she leaves through the heavy double doors, she adds, “Oh, and if I find you meandering in the tunnels again, I’ll throw you back to the dungeons.”

The doors close behind her.

Ruby lets out a breath, her chest aching at having held it in for so long.

“What does she mean?” Cressida says lowly, her voice icy. “What is it?”