“It’s done,” a voice behind Bikker said, startling him. “The crown has left Castle Hill. Good.” Bikker did not turn to see who was speaking. His employer had been quite clear from the start that he did not wish his face to be seen. “Not as neatly as I’d hoped. But plenty of people saw the guardian demon before it was slain—that was to my liking. It will further humiliate Tarness.”

“If you like, I can ride tonight for Helstrow. There I can inform the king that the Burgrave of Ness has been harboring demons,” Bikker mused. He didn’t relish the prospect—he was not well-loved in the royal fortress just now. But it would further their aims, and it would get him far from Ness before things went to perdition.

“Not just now. We’ll hold that charge back as insurance. No, Ladymas is almost upon us. When Tarness appears in public without the crown, he’ll be unable to explain himself. If we’re lucky, the people will riot on their own, without further provocation. By manipulating their anger, we can inspire them to true revolt. The city will collapse under civil strife, and the king will have no choice but to intervene.”

Bikker frowned. He stared up at the cornucopia as he asked, “That’s the part I haven’t fully grasped. The Burgrave will look a fool if he appears without his crown, true enough. But he’s a man of formidable intellectual resources. Surely he’ll find some excuse and the people will believe it. They love him, after all.”

“They love him. They will not love what they see on Ladymas.” The voice seemed to find this highly amusing. “Trust me, Bikker. I’ve had years to plot this out. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

“I’m sure,” Bikker said. He wondered if he should tell his employer about Croy. But no. If the cabal thought Croy was a threat, they would take steps to slay the knight errant as a concerted front. Bikker didn’t want that. He wanted Croy all to himself. So he held his tongue.

“Now. You know what you must do next? What your role is now?”

“Aye, I’ll secure the crown. Get it to Hazoth’s villa where it can be hidden.”

“Exactly. Get the crown from the thief—pay him whatever he asks, it doesn’t matter.”

Bikker smiled. “Sure, since as soon as the crown is in my hands I can just kill the little fool and take the money back.”

“What? No, you mustn’t kill the thief. You’re already a wanted criminal after tonight’s endeavors. It’s still against the law in this city to kill a man, and I don’t want Anselm Vry’s watchmen to pick you up for such a minor infraction. Not while I still need you. No, just pay the thief and let him be.”