I spin around. He’s by the front door, pale and bloody and shaking. He’s been here the whole time.
He knew I’d come.
Of course he did, because he knows better than anyone that I have nowhere else to go.
I look to the kitchen—the long table has been shoved up against the back door. I’d have to drag it away to get out.
I’m trapped.
“Ragne took a paralysis spell that wasn’t meant for her.” Emeric looks like the witch-ash hit him about as hard as it hit me, but he still beat me here. Grief and fury have carried him farther than the dust of gods and monsters.
“You left that part out,MeisterConrad,” Joniza says. She’s leaning on the dividing wall by the kitchen, winding a braid around her finger, eyes narrowed.
Gisele looks from Ragne to me, then to Emeric. “Take the spell off her.”
“It’ll wear off on its own momentarily,” he admits. “Which is why I’m ending this now, beforeshe”—he flicks a finger at me—“gets an angry bear to help her run off again.”
I don’t even have a name to him anymore.
“Give it up,” he tells me. “I’ll take you back to the outpost, and you’ll be held until a fully ordained prefect can try your case.”
“No.” I back toward the wall, shaking my head. I can’t rot in a jail cell until the full moon. “I didn’t do anything—I don’t havetime—”
“Wait.” Joniza holds up a hand, steel in her voice. “I agreed to hear you out, and to hear Vanja out. So get to it, boy. What makes you think she had anything to do with your man’s murder?”
Emeric’s face fractures for a moment; then it’s like a north wind blows, and a detached chill settles over him. “Hubert was a threat to her. She asked repeatedly if he’d be willing to overlook her crimes, and was never satisfied with my answer.”
“If ‘not being satisfied by a man’ was grounds for a murder charge, you’d have a lot more suspects,” Joniza shoots back. “What else?”
Ragne twitches in my arms.
“Hubert was stabbed with his own knife and l-left in the Yssar.” Emeric’s voice cracks but he soldiers on. “He was found with a red penny in his mouth. Last week, Yannec Kraus’s body washed up—”
“Yannec’s dead?” Joniza pushes off from the wall, looking ill. Gisele covers her mouth.
“Stabbed with his own knife, a red penny in his mouth. He washed up in the Stichenstegs,exactlylike Hubert.” He points to me. “Andyouadmitted you were there when he died.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Joniza asks, and the look in her eyes makes me want to crawl under the table.
“There—there wasn’t a good time,” I stumble, knowing how absurd it sounds, but saints and martyrs, between the margrave and poison andnachtmärenand curses it’s true, it’s true—
Joniza just lets out a disbelieving scoff.
I’m losing her. Every inch I’ve dragged myself out of this pit, I’m losing.
“He’d been eating poppy!” My voice rises. “He was going into withdrawal and tried to cut the ruby off my face. Ragne scared him away from me, and he tripped and landed on his knife! I didn’t want him dead!”
Emeric isn’t giving an inch. “But you wanted his ledger.”
“Yannec was fencing my hauls, I wanted to find his buyer—”
“You just threw him in the river?” Gisele asks unevenly. “Like trash?”
“Gisele,please—” My back collides with the wall. I still try to retreat, pushing myself along it just to get away, even though I know there’s no way out.
“I’m guessing you didn’t want to keep paying his cut,” Emeric continues, cold and mechanical. “Maybe he got too greedy, maybe he was blackmailing you. Or were the Wolfhünden closing in?”
“No, Itoldyou—”
