Her second choice was Mistral Belloruus. Isoeld’s implied threat didn’t necessarily mean that her grandmother actually was a prisoner. Phryne had jumped to that conclusion on her own. Now she was rethinking this assumption, especially in light of her belief that Isoeld was hunting for the blue Elfstones. Since Phryne didn’t have them and Isoeld hadn’t found them, it stood to reason that her grandmother still had possession of them. Didn’t that mean she was still free and in hiding? If not, then why hadn’t Isoeld extracted their location from Mistral? Certainly, she wasn’t above using whatever means were available to her. Or did Isoeld know something about all this that Phryne didn’t?

In any case, her grandmother might be out there trying to find a way to set her free. Those old men who worshipped the ground she walked on would do anything for her, including getting her granddaughter out of the clutches of the Queen.

But somehow that didn’t feel right, either. While there was no reason to trust anything Isoeld told her, she didn’t like the way the latter seemed so confident that the threat of harm to Mistral would make Phryne falsely confess to killing the King. In truth, she was afraid for her grandmother, and as much as she would like to believe that Mistral was safe, she just wasn’t sure.

Who did that leave?

Only one other person. Panterra Qu.

It wasn’t a stretch to think that the Tracker from Glensk Wood had heard the news of her imprisonment. Pan would never believe it was true; he would want to know what had really happened. He might have found Sider Ament and persuaded him to come looking for her. One of them or even both might already be on the way. The note could have come from them. Rescue might be at hand.

But she didn’t think so. Panterra didn’t have the skills or means to effect a rescue on his own, and Sider Ament would approach the High Council first and arrange a meeting. Even the Queen would have trouble keeping the Gray Man out if he insisted on speaking with her. But no one had come to see her but the Queen. The note suggested that this was someone else entirely.

So she lay on her pallet pondering the myriad options of being rescued, the candles burning in small bright spaces amid the shadows, until a darker possibility suggested itself.

What if Isoeld herself had written the note?