Alec gave him the black-and-silver-handled dagger and Seregil used it to pry the false bottom of the box free. Underneath he found a folded letter still bearing a waxy spot where the seal had been broken. Even though it had no salutation or signature, he immediately recognized the familiar, slanted script; it was from the same spy who’d sent the other messages to Reltheus, and written in the same code. Skimming it, Seregil made out “Ten more to the cause. Think the wolf bitch is watching. Taking steps.”

“If it is Reltheus who hired the Cat, then I bet this is what he was looking for,” mused Alec.

“Or something like it. It’s certainly proof enough that Laneus and his crew know about the other cabal. This ‘wolf bitch’ is almost certainly Beka. And ‘steps taken’ might refer to preparations for the assassination attempt. This isn’t good.”

“We have to warn her!”

“Yes, although if this was intercepted before it was seen by Reltheus and the others, there may not have been any order sent back yet.”

“But if we give this to him—”

Seregil grinned. “Oh, we’ll give him something, all right.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Forge a replacement, of course.” Going to the basket on the desk, he took a piece of scraped parchment and began making the edges ragged and smudging it with soot from the hearth. When that was done, he mimicked the writing style of the sender and the code. His note read: Ten more to the cause. Wolf bitch suspects nothing.

“There, that should do it.” Seregil gathered the other papers. “When the time is right we’ll send these off to the Cat’s employer and see where they turn up. I’ll give this original to Thero.”

“What are we going to do about Malthus?”

“I think we’ll send an invitation for him to join us for dinner and a jaunt to the theater tomorrow night. Perhaps Thero would enjoy another evening out, as well.”

Chapter 22 - Change of Plans

SEREGIL and Alec were dressing for dinner with Malthus the following night while Thero, whom they’d finally worn down, strolled in the garden, when Runcer appeared at their chamber door with a sealed letter from Lady Ysmay.

Alec broke the seal and read the contents. “Oh no!” he gasped.

“What is it?” asked Seregil, looking up in the act of pulling on a boot.

“It’s Kylith. She’s—she’s dead.”

Seregil stared at him a moment, dumbstruck, then let the boot fall and reached for the letter. “Illior’s Light! Does it say how?”

“Died in her sleep in her bedchamber this afternoon.” Alec shook his head sadly. “She didn’t look sick at dinner last night.”