“Thank you,” Lia said and slipped back to the balcony. She started down the tower railing, going as quickly as she dared. It would be another long climb to reach the top and she knew she had to conserve her strength. For she had no intention of waiting another night. They would flee after the fete, ready or no.

* * *

The garden was wreathed in shadows when she arrived, panting, at the base of the tower. Her breath was ragged in her ears, and her throat was scorched for a drink. She waited a moment, catching her breath when a dark shape emerged from the trees.

Martin’s voice was thick with reproof. “I heard your steps quite plainly,” he said savagely. “That was careless.”

Lia looked at him and shook her head. “There is not much time. We must go tonight.”

“Too hasty,” Martin warned.

“That may be true, but I do not trust the girl anymore. She has changed.”

“Tell me,” Martin said in a flat voice, but she heard the slight growl in his throat.

Lia paced the footpath, motioning for him to follow. “She looks like Pareigis. The same cut of the gown. The same ornamentation.”

“Does she wear a Kystrel?”

Lia shook her head. “Not that I could see, but the Queen Dowager concealed hers in a necklace, and she had several she was wearing. She has changed the color of her hair. The style of it too. She dresses in the fashion of Dahomey. I fear that the time she has lingered here has corrupted her. Best if we get away tonight. She seemed anxious to go.”

“Why is that?” Martin asked. Again, his voice was sullen, deliberate.

“Because Dieyre arrived and said she was supposed to marry the king.”

“By Cheshu,” Martin said softly.

She looked at him. “Do you already know about this? Is this part of the knowledge you cannot reveal?”

He looked at her pointedly, his features sharp in the darkness. “Speak on. Why must we leave tonight?”

“I told her to warn Colvin we would leave tomorrow night. If she cannot be trusted, she will plan a trap for tomorrow night to catch me before I can free Colvin. I did not tell her about you. If you can get Colvin out, then I will get her out. Then they can escape.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“What of you, child. What will you do?” His voice seemed to throb with emotion.

“If they are safely hidden, then I can do what I must do. I will warn the Aldermaston of Dochte Abbey about the Blight. I have already told Colvin about the ship waiting at Vezins. I will meet you there.”

Martin was silent for a long while. “It is a sound plan, being brief. There is much that can go wrong. Much that likely will. But you are wise to plot against her before she plots against you. That is thinking like an Evnissyen.”

Lia experienced a warm surge of pride at his praise. “Why do you think Dieyre is doing this? Surely he cannot defend his lies? Demont will not come as he said he would.”

Martin watched her as they approached the hidden entrance at the wall. It opened for her and she guided Martin inside. Once the stone door sealed shut, she withdrew the Cruciger orb and it flared with light.

“When you get Colvin, you will not have much light. He had one candle last night. You must remember the path back to this door.”

“It was I who taught you the mazes beneath Muirwood, child. I think I can manage it. Lead on.”

She used the orb to point the way and quickly moved through the tunnel. “Why is Dieyre acting this way?”

“He is acting because he knows something we do not,” Martin replied. “The Queen Dowager is very subtle. Perhaps he is counting on her subverting Earl Demont. If he subverts, then the alliance can be solemnized.”

“But he is a maston,” Lia said, alarmed at Martin’s thinking.

“Even mastons succumb. Even mastons can be plagued with doubts. Turn here. I see the broken segment midway. A good marker. But a wise hunter is prepared.” He withdrew from a pouch at his waist a chunk of white stone. He marked the wall with it. “Chalk, from the cliffs,” he explained.

They continued through the passageway, winding through the hidden tunnel quickly. Lia remembered the tortuous passage, but the orb was her source of light and comfort. She could not imagine how difficult it would have been to find the way in the dark without it. Martin was wise to leave streaks of chalk to mark the way.

“Yes,” he continued sagely. “Dieyre is a crafty man who serves a crafty mistress. Be wary of his lies. The world is full of fools eagerly waiting to hear what they long to be told. A devious man will use that.”