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“You think they weren’t actually intending to kill him?” Heath’s grandfather asked incredulously. “Just to rile him up?”
“I don’t know.” Heath raised his hands helplessly. “I won’t pretend to have the answers. It certainly looked like his life was in danger.”
He cast his mind back over the event, remembering how the attackers had fled at Reka’s approach. Heath had assumed that he and Reka had arrived just in time. But if the intention was always for Percival to see the uniforms and carry the tale, killing him wouldn’t have achieved it. Was it possible that far from foiling the attack, Heath’s arrival had actually furthered the plan? Having a dragon frighten the attackers off was a much better tale than beating Percival senseless and supposedly leaving him for dead, or whatever the attackers had planned to do.
It was a horrible thought, that he might have aided the scheme. But the idea of staying away while Percival was beaten viciously was even more horrible.
Heath pulled himself from his thoughts with a sigh, to see that both of his companions looked deeply troubled.
“I can draw up a family tree for you,” Princess Jocelyn said. “One outlining all the power-wielders in both the Kyonan and Valorian branches. It won’t be difficult. There are only twenty-six of us.”
“Don’t forget Laura’s twins,” Heath reminded her with a smile.
“Of course,” said his grandmother, her face softening. “Twenty-eight. How could I forget little Jacqueline and Germain? It was a nice touch, using family names from both Kyona’s and Valoria’s royal houses.” Her smile dropped away. “But I have faith in every person who’ll be on this list, you know.”
“I’m in no hurry to accuse anyone,” Heath assured her hastily. “You know me, Grandmother. I’m not on the warpath. I’m just looking for answers.”
She nodded slowly, exchanging a glance with her husband that told Heath the two of them were in need of the opportunity to discuss his revelations privately.
“Thanks for the tea,” he said, standing. “I’ll speak with you soon.” He hesitated for a moment, his eyes resting on his grandfather with the hint of a question. “I don’t know how much Grandmother has told you about all this, but—”
“Don’t worry about me, I’m not going to rat you out,” Prince Kincaid said, waving a dismissive hand as he repositioned to sit next to his wife. He draped an arm around her shoulder. “I was the first Valorian to fall in love with magic, and although I have great respect for my nephew, I can see clear as day he’s heading down the wrong path with these restrictions. I’ve told him as much myself. I’m not going to stand in the way of you trying to get to the bottom of it all.”
Heath nodded gratefully as he took his leave. It was encouraging to know that people as wise and experienced as his grandparents were concerned by the restrictions. But in another way, it made King Matlock’s uncharacteristic harshness all the more alarming.
It was two days later that his grandmother found the opportunity to give him the family tree she’d drawn up. Her expression was unusually somber as she did so, and scanning the names, Heath could understand why. He remembered many of these individuals from his visit to Kynton with Percival the year before. They’d been a friendly bunch, welcoming the brothers with open arms, and not hesitating to claim them as family. The idea that any of them could be involved in an attack on Percival was almost as distressing as the implication that they wished to cause trouble for Valoria.
The two kingdoms hadn’t always had an easy history, but they’d been at peace for a long time now. It was awful to think of anyone wanting to breach that peace, but doubly so if it was a power-wielder.
On the other hand…Heath couldn’t help remembering the way magic was revered and celebrated in Kyona. It had been a shock to him and Percival to see the dramatic difference between the two kingdoms’ approaches. Had someone from the Kyonan power-wielders had a similar shock when they discovered how their Valorian brethren were treated? Was it possible they’d wanted to give the Valorians enough incentive to rise up and turn on their restrictive monarch? Perhaps they’d thought temporary injuries to the magically strengthened Percival a reasonable cost to pay for that end.
But no, such warped thinking surely couldn’t belong to anyone on the list in his hand. Which left him with no answers, once again.
It was with a heavy heart that Heath entered Prince Lachlan’s study in response to a summons. His shoulders slumped at the anticipated question.
“Have you discovered anything useful?” Prince Lachlan didn’t look especially hopeful.
Heath shook his head. “I don’t know where to look,” he admitted.
“Well, I’ve found something,” the prince said.
“Really?” Heath perked up.
Prince Lachlan nodded. “It’s not exactly good news, but it is something. I found the report we spoke about, regarding the deaths connected with that market.”
“And?”
The prince looked troubled. “There was a health inspection, as we predicted. And they found no sign of any major health concerns at either stall, or elsewhere in the market. Which is good news in one sense, of course,” he added.
“Good news for the market,” Heath agreed. “But it raises questions about the men’s deaths.”
The prince nodded. “There’s more. I’ve been doing some digging, and I’ve learned of three more deaths that fit the same details.”
“What details are they?” Heath asked.
“Men, relatively young, physically strong,” Prince Lachlan listed. “Either known for being unscrupulous, or known to be in need of money. Ideal candidates for mercenaries, in other words.”
Heath sat up straighter, impressed by the prince’s shrewd assessment. “Mercenaries?” He fitted the pieces together in his mind. “You think someone hired random men to dress up as royal guards and attack Percival, then poisoned them to ensure their silence?”
