But in the moment before he began to cut his way into the palace, Vry appeared, standing on a second floor balcony. “Sir Croy, this is too much,” he said. “I’ve tried to turn a blind eye, I’ve tried to earn you mercy with honeyed words, but—”

“Your men—they came and they went. Without—Without it!”

Vry looked around at the throng of people in the courtyard and then glared daggers at Croy. “Watch your tongue.”

“They searched the right house. They were unopposed. How could they fail? There is only one way. Sorcery.”

“The men of which you speak have not yet returned. I have not heard their report. There is no point to this chaos and nothing to discuss.”

Vry looked peeved, but he made no order for the guards to attack. For the nonce they held their places, weapons ready. Perhaps none of them wanted to be the first to attack—they knew what Croy was capable of. Once the first of them moved, though, Croy knew the momentum would shift and they would all be upon him.

This was the moment, then. He would make his plea, and Vry must be convinced.

Croy drew Ghostcutter and heard the people around him gasp. Some screamed. He dropped to one knee and held the sword before him, point down to touch the flagstones. He bowed his head before it like a knight standing vigil in a chapel. Like the champion of the kingdom that he was. “Give me every man in the watch. Give me a company of them, at least. I’ll tear that house down stone by stone. I’ll carve it out of the magician’s heart, if that’s where he’s hiding it.”

“I can hardly do as you ask,” Vry said.

“Don’t take me lightly,” Croy insisted.

“Believe me, I don’t. If any man could do it, I believe it would be you. But don’t you understand? My hands are tied by laws and customs. I’m not a field marshal to make war inside the city walls. I am bound to protect the citizens, not slaughter them based on unproven information and the fervor of your belief.”

“A crime has been committed! Your city demands justice!”

“I’m afraid that’s true,” Vry said in icy tones.

Croy stared up at him without understanding.

“I’ve done all I can for you, Sir Knight. My duty requires this. Croy, you are under arrest. You have violated the terms of your banishment, and by remaining within the walls of the Free City of Ness you have invoked the punishment of death. Guards, take him—alive if you can, dead if you must.”

And with that, Anselm Vry turned and went back into the palace.

Croy had failed.

“Drop that steel,” someone said from just behind him.

“Get down on the flagstones with your arms spread out.”

“Hold where you are or be cut down.”