“Not if I were to become someone new, Melder Bien.” Fadey paused for a breath, as though considering how to continue. “Now, studying his mannerisms from the shadows, that took some doing. With Ashwood’s keen eye always watching, I had to learn with great care how the Fox shifted his tone to how he scratched his cock.”

I couldn’t draw in enough air to fill my lungs. Only short, haggard breaths. He’d stalked, studied, then slaughtered the real Captain Baldur.

“Bone crafters are a lesser magic, but can be rather brilliant when given the chance,” Fadey said. “With Baldur’s true bones after his death, it wasn’t so difficult for Stav Uther to rebuild his likeness on me. Body and face. Painful, but rather impressive.”

“Stupid boy.” Ingir shook her head and aligned the rune chips in front of her.

Fadey nodded. “Uther was a Stav Guard who was found dead right before you arrived. He was quite talented with his craft.”

“Until the boy got greedy.” Ingir frowned.

“Pity.” Fadey rubbed his chin. “Once he began feeling like the allowance he was paid was not enough, he began his baseless threats. Talk like he would tell the king of our betrayal. Such a waste of good craft, but he had to be removed.”

I could not stop shaking. “But Fadey’s body was…it was found. He was tortured.”

“Baldur’s body.” Fadey waved a hand around his face. “I thought I just explained what a talented bone crafter can do. Painful process, but a few pieces of my old features made up poor Baldur’s new, tortured face.”

“The king buried him right outside of my wing,” Queen Ingir said. “He thought I despised Fadey, so it was meant as a slight. Little did that fool know.”

I had felt the darkness of her quarters in the mirror land and beyond it. Baldur’s body was in unrest, no mistake. It billowed pitch-black shadows from his angry soul.

“I was never truly convinced the melder child was dead. I tended to believe the rumors that she’d been smuggled from the raids.” Fadey’s eyes darkened. “For seasons, I worked with zealots, Unfettered Folk, even a few greedy ravagers to hunt down any rumor of a melder. I desperately desired freedom, and you were my way out. Replace me with a younger melder, and Damir would hardly mourn my unfortunate demise.”

I blew out a rough breath. “Then why are you still here?”

Fadey smiled, but there was nothing bright to it. “After seasons of never sensing a single drop of his power, I believed the Wanderer’s bones to be lost to myths and lore. Then the blood crafter we assigned to your little village sent word of silver scars in a simple servant girl.”

Gods. Fadey was the man behind Vella’s betrayal; the missives she’d written were to him.

“What did it matter if I was here?”