“Perhaps he thinks he can use it to call the rest of it to him?”

Kieri shook his head. “I don’t think it works that way. The crown or the ring should be the most powerful, assuming that the items are innately magical. They might be drawing the necklace to themselves—in which case it should show up in Vérella.”

Night after night Kieri’s sleep was troubled, though he could not remember specific dreams, only an undefined menace. He would have to do something, he realized, about the bones and their hints. He wasn’t ready for another trip to the ossuary, and didn’t want to ask the elves. Instead, he began asking who in the palace had known his sister or even his parents.

He started with Joriam, who was polishing the big brass ewers in his bathing room. The old man’s eyes lit up.

“Yes, my lord, I do remember. Your mother now, my lord, she was a beauty, she was. Fresh as a snowdrop, but strong, the way elves are. She didn’t ride just the air and water horses, but any color—she liked to match with your father when they rode out together. The two of them, on matched horses … it brought tears to the eyes.”

“Did the Lady come to visit often then?”

“No … I wouldn’t say that. At your birth, yes: said the elven needed some elven magic and upset the midwives no end. Out with you all, she said, and there was words spoken, I heard from one of the maids. And at Midsummer, of course, and usually Midwinter, bringing snow sprites.”

Kieri had never heard of snow sprites.

“All sparkly they are, in the dark. Elf-light I suppose. Swore it did not break the rule against fire … well, they aren’t warm at all. They dance.”

“Did they ever quarrel?”

Joriam’s face changed; he looked wary. “I wouldn’t like to say, my lord. I was young then, you know, and the queen was our queen, and the Lady was the Lady. And mothers and daughters, you may know, are not always in accord.”

“Joriam, I need to know … what did you see or hear?”

Joriam put down the rag and box of polish he had been using. “My lord … your mother had spirit, and she may have said more than she meant—”

“But she said …”

“I overheard—I shouldn’t have, but I was in here, cleaning the brass same as I am now. They knew it, but their voices rose anyway. She said your father was king, and the Lady must deal with him herself. She was not going to be—” Joriam blushed but went on. “—not going to be ruling him … between the sheets. And then the Lady said your mother would regret it.”

“And?”

“And then the Lady came to the door of the bathing room and told me to be gone and keep quiet. Forget what you heard, she said. I did not look at either of them as I came through the bedchamber; I could feel their magery beating at me.”