There was a knock at the door. “Food for the sick,” Yula called from outside, their code for entry.
“Come in,” Khoda answered.
The door swung open only wide enough to allow Ebrim and Yula to slide in, both bearing large clay pots and a few rough bowls. Once the door shut, they both bowed deep. “Your Highness.”
“Please—I think we’re past that now,” Jasimir said, slightly strained. “Besides, you’re risking so much for me. I owe you a tremendous debt.”
The Sparrows straightened, but both Ebrim and Yula looked everywhere but at the prince, uneasy. Ebrim set his pot on the floor and revealed a fluffy, steaming heap of rice. “You’ve raised quite the hell in one day. The queen’s saying the Phoenix priests used the wrong oil, that it gave everyone fever visions. All the priests are being interrogated, and word is she thinkstheysabotaged the ceremony. She’s pushing the coronation back two weeks, to the first of Swan Moon.”
“There was half a riot in the guest quarters,” added Yula, unveilingher own pot of a stew heavy with chicken and lentils. Fie’s stomach growled. “The nobles are furious they’re being asked to stick around that long. Some say it’s disrespectful, waiting until after Phoenix Moon.” She passed a bowl to Jasimir first, then Khoda, then Fie. “We’ve placed someone to intercept any messages sent to ‘Lady Sakar,’ but we can also give you an empty chamber to keep up appearances. His Highness may be more comfortable in the guest quarters as well.”
Jasimir ducked his head. “I’ll be fine either way. Fie and I have slept on much worse on the road.” He frowned. “Not to imply that this is bad, of course. Just—you don’t need to go to any trouble for me.”
“What His Highness means is ‘Yes, thank you,’” Khoda drawled. “Weren’t you the one just lecturing me about resources?”
Ebrim and Yula traded looks. “Let us know what you decide,” Ebrim said delicately. “And there’s something that’s come to my attention. No one’s come forward themselves, but I’m hearing rumors of other servants having, oh,encounterswith the queen. Strange ones. She wasn’t what I’d call beloved among us, but this is new.”
“What kind of new?” Fie asked warily.
Ebrim ran a finger along the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezing shut. “Mind you, it’s all hearsay. But the story always starts with three or more servants on a job. One, just the one, gets called off by an attendant of the queen. They don’t return for at least an hour, maybe more, and when they do… they can’t remember a damned thing about where they’ve been.”
“Not a scratch on them,” Yula added. “Same clothes, no sickness like they’ve been drugged, nothing to say what they’ve done. The last thing they all remember is the queen’s attendant leading them away.”
Khoda set down his bowl, face sour. Then he got up with a grumble of “Of course she has one” and wrote below Rhusana’sASSETS:Owl witch.
“Seems like an awful lot of trouble to keep her secrets,” Fie said around a mouthful of stew. “Why not just kill them?”
Yula covered a small gasp with a sleeve.
“What?” Fie blinked at her. “She murdered a whole score of Crows just to take my teeth.”
Ebrim eyed her like she was a feral cat. “The queen could pick off a half dozen Sparrows, certainly, but there’d be too many gaps in the schedules, too many worried families looking for them. Someone would notice.”
Fie let the unspoken question hang over them all:And no one noticed twenty Crows dead in the road?
That was the pinch of it, though. They’d notice. But so long as the plague beacons were answered, they’d look the other way. And since the Crows would starve without viatik, those beacons would keep being answered.
Khoda turned back to the rest of the room. “I take it no one’s named names, for fear of the queen.” The Sparrows nodded. He started pacing in a circle, scowling. “I’ll check with my other informants, but if she’s only targeting Sparrows, then you two will be my best sources. And I’ll need everything, as soon as possible. If she’s going to this much work to keep something quiet, especially at a time like this…”
“It’s ugly,” Fie finished.
Jasimir nodded. “Maybe ugly enough to sink her.”
“The night kitchen shift has also been hit with a rush order for more savory finger foods,” Yula said. “And the wine-master was given orders to have more casks of dry white wine ready by noon. Lights are on in the calligraphy scribes’ offices, too.”
“Invitations,” Jasimir said. “Light refreshments and white wine? She’s throwing an afternoon revel.”
Khoda looked at Fie. “Well?”
“You don’t have to do this.” Jasimir put a cautious hand on her shoulder. “We can find another way.”
Fie thought of Pa and Wretch and all her Crows, all the Crows across Sabor, waiting for the queen’s knife to fall to their throats. She’d made an oath; she’d bought them a king. She meant to keep it.
“Aye,” Fie whispered. “I’ll do it.”
Khoda only nodded shortly. Then he lifted the chalk to Tavin’s name and wrote, underWEAKNESSES,Lady Sakar.
In her dream, she knelt before a throne, silk knotted too tight round her head. It took but a thought to light it, and in the glassblack panes she saw her own reflection crowned in golden fire.
