Tomas Grisen reared back on the harness on one of the palace horses. My cousin hissed a curse under her breath.

“Come to deliver on your promise at long last.” Tomas spoke with effort now that his jaw was still fused in some areas. His voice was strained and slurred.

Soon enough, it wouldn’t matter.

I nudged Emi. Speak for me, but do not let on the words come from me.

She stepped forward, standing in a way that allowed her to watch my gestures in the dark and still speak to Tomas.

Emi chuckled. “What is it you think you deserve from us? And, truly, why would we do anything for you?”

Tomas’s misshapen mouth worked side to side, grinding his jagged teeth. “You swore if I caused the distraction, you would fix what that whore did to me.”

There it was—his motivation. Yrsa’s note gave up her suspicion Tomas had something to do with the attack, but not why.

Emi grinned, shadows from her hood adding a formidable darkness to her features. “And you call what you did a distraction?”

Tomas kicked one leg over the horse, fists clenched in fury. “I risked my life summoning the Dark Watch.”

Emi played the part as indifferent, giving her time to follow my questioning. “And yet I did not get what I wanted.”

“It is no fault of mine if you didn’t kill the woman.”

“The melder?”

“Who else?” Tomas took a step back. Fear edged his voice.

I reached behind me and took hold of the ax handle, ready to pull it free of the sheath. Heat prickled along the scar on my neck.

With my other hand, I directed Emi. Find out how long he’s been aligned with Queen Elisabet.

“You played your role. But I must ask. Ser Grisen, have you always been a traitor to your king?” Emi tossed back her hood, revealing her features. “Aligning with Dravenmoor—”

“You?” Tomas stiffened. He looked into the trees, his face losing color. “You wrote the missive about the gates? But…you’re Draven?”

He summoned the Dark Watch but…was he not working under the demands of the Draven queen? His unease at Emi’s heritage was discomfiting and I didn’t understand it. Who else would want to involve Dravenmoor in Lyra’s slaughter save their queen?

Tomas swallowed thickly. “But you wanted her dead to take her bones and make room for your melder. Why would Draven folk keep a melder?”

I tapped the ground. Emi looked down with the slightest tilt of her head to read my hands. It wasn’t Dravens who wanted Lyra this time.

My stomach cinched. Another melder?