hell broke loose, didn’t it?”
Walegrin couldn’t suppress a bitter laugh. “Not quite. Came close. Seems someone
came out of the witch’s house an’ dragged .Strat back in. Stepsons thought
they’d go in to rescue him. Found the place’d been warded: Nisi warded-like
you’d remember, I guess. Old Critias lit back for the palace and found out that
Roxane’d broken out of wherever she’d been hiding and went there ’cause some
slave-apprentice of Ischade’s’d stolen a Globe of Power and stashed it there.
So, no, hell didn’t quite break out-it’s sort of holed up there in the old Peres
place.”
Kama ran her hands through her hair. Her shoulders sagged and when she turned
around again she looked straight at Walegrin. “There’s more, isn’t there.” She
didn’t make it a question.
“Yeah. There’s a boat down at the wharf with Vashanka’s arrows flying from its
mast. They say it’s Brachis at the least and maybe our new Emperor as well.
Can’t be sure because we’ve told them the town’s under plague sign: no one from
Sanctuary’s been on board; no one’s gotten off either. Whatever it is, it’s got
the whole damn palace fired up. They mean to have the town quiet if they have to
kill every known troublemaker before sunrise-and your name’s at the top of
everyone’s list. Word was that you didn’t even have to be brought in alive.”
“Crit?” she asked. “Tempus?”
Walegrin nodded after both names. “Kama, the only Stepson who might not want you
dead is inside the witch’s house with bigger problems than you’ve got. The
nabobs were in trouble anyway; Strat’s arrow didn’t make their problems but the