She picked her way gingerly across the cluttered room. She was never entirely sure how much of the clutter was of magical use, and how much was simply junk, relegated here to be stored. That huge, draped mirror, for instance—or the suit of armor that couldn’t possibly have fit anything human, or even alive, since the helm was welded to the shoulders and the face-plate welded shut besides.

Mostly she tried not to look at much of anything. There were some stuffed animals—she thought they were animals—on shelves along the walls; shapes that didn’t bear too close an inspection if one wanted pleasant dreams.

As she neared the two women, she saw that there was movement down in the bottom of that bowl; the light eddied and changed, casting odd little shadows across Kethry’s face. When she finally reached them, she saw with a start of astonishment that there was a tiny man looking up at Kethry from the bowl, gesturing from time to time, and making the light change. Behind the man was a kind of glowing rose-colored mist, and the light appeared to be coming from that soft and lambent haze.

“It’s only an image,” Tarma said softly, as Kero found a stool and placed it beside her. “It’s Keth’s son, your uncle Jendar.”

“—so, according to the Herald, the prince had been part of this conspiracy for some time. One of the other Heralds, their Weaponsmaster, somehow got wind of the assassination attempt, and when Selenay rode out for her exercise, he took a group of young warriors with him and followed her at a discreet distance. So when the conspirators ambushed her, they got something of a surprise—first of all, none of them expected Selenay to be much of a fighter, second, they didn’t expect the rescue party. Thanel was fatally injured during the fight. He died a couple of candlemarks later.”

“That’s just as well,” Kethry replied, her posture relaxing just a bit. “Is there any sign that Thanel might have gotten any help from Rethwellan?”

“None that anyone there has come up with, and no one at Court seems very inclined to look for it here.” The bearded figure cocked his head to one side, a gesture that made him look very like his mother. “Mother, do you want me to look into it?”

“No, not really,” she replied. “I’d just as soon leave that to Valdemar. At this point it isn’t a threat to Rethwellan or the royal family, and I hope you’ll forgive me for being insular, but that’s really all I care about.”