As the others exchanged puzzled looks, the wizard touched the message sphere gently. To Alec’s surprise, there was no voice, at least not one that he could hear, as was usual with Thero’s message spells. But clearly Thero could hear something, for his face went very still as he replied softly, “I understand.” The little light sped away with its new message.

“What’s going on?” hissed Seregil.

The wizard gave the sign for Watcher business, then pulled a button from his coat and handed it to Seregil. “Keep this with you. I’ll find you.” With that, he mounted his horse and rode away down the side alley.

“Bilairy’s Balls!” Seregil muttered, staring after him in disbelief.

“What do we do?” asked Alec.

“What we’ve always done.” Seregil carefully tucked Thero’s button away in his belt pouch. “Our job.”

Thero rode in stunned silence as the import of Klia’s message sank in. The queen was dead, the war was won, and Klia would be back in the city, accompanying the fallen queen’s body and bearing the great sword to Elani, in perhaps a week’s time. He was to break the news to Prince Korathan. Immediately.

Sorrow, joy, and relief warred in his heart. He didn’t know how to feel.

At the Palace he drew a few questioning looks given the lateness of the hour and his uncommon clothing, but a page took him at once to the royal residence.

Thero found Korathan alone in the darkened garden. He wore no robes or coat, but sat in his shirtsleeves, with one elbow on the stone table and his head resting on his hand, pale hair loose around his face. A wine bottle and cup stood before him on the table.

Before Thero could even bow, he said softly, “Phoria is dead, isn’t she?”

“You’ve had word?”

But the prince shook his head. “We shared a womb, and a lifetime. I’m told it’s common with twins—to know.” He sat back in his chair and looked at Thero. “The war is lost?”

“No, Highness, it’s won. I’ve had word from Klia herself.

Queen Phoria drove the Plenimarans to their border, then fell on the brink of victory. Princess Klia finished the task.”

“Thank Sakor for that, at least! Is there any suggestion that Phoria’s death was connected to your cabals?”

“None that I know of yet, Highness.”

“Then let it rest. Reltheus and the others have been convicted of conspiracy against the realm and banished.” He sighed. “I suppose we should have a drink. Sit with me, please.”

Impatient as he was to return to Seregil and the others, Thero could not refuse, and not just because of their difference in rank. It was a bittersweet victory for Korathan.

The prince filled his own cup, then pushed the bottle across to Thero. “To Phoria. Astellus carry her softly.”