“Don’t you know who I am?” Petronio demanded. He wondered whether to try attacking at least one of them, but instantly decided against it. One was slender and sinewy, and the other had a scar on his head like a warning sign: Don’t mess with me! Petronio was in enough trouble already, but he still protested. “You’ll be shoveling squit by tomorrow for treating me like this!”

“Ooh! Hark at him, all high and mighty, considering we caught him in the act! Wot you think, Salix?”

“A fancy bit of lip, that! I think we got a right smart-arse ’ere, Alnus!” The guards were taking no chances. The larger one held the intruder in a neck lock as they hauled him downstairs.

“Here’s your spy, sir! Perhaps if he’d been on a diet, he might ’ave slipped away. Thank Diana fer too many goat pies!” said Salix, shoving him into the room, before standing back.

Petronio stumbled forward and found himself looking up into a pair of strange, almost violet eyes.

The woman stared at him, then turned to read the explosive expression on Councillor Grasp’s face. She raised an eyebrow. “Ah, let me guess. The family resemblance gives it away. Your son? Yes?” She circled Petronio slowly. He was transfixed.

Admittedly, Dendrans came in all shapes, sizes, and colors. The only trait that marked them out was the extra length of their fingers, all the better to grasp at branch or twig. But this woman was unlike any Dendran he’d ever seen. Her eyebrows were sculpted into twin crescent moons, her lips were painted red as rowanberries, and her black hair was pulled tightly into a woven bun. Her robe was like that of a Holly Woodsman, hood pulled back — though women priests were unheard of these days.

“What is the meaning of this?” thundered Councillor Grasp, addressing both his son and the now uncomfortable guards.

“Father. I humbly apologize.” Petronio spoke quickly, trying to gauge how much time had already been lost. “But please listen. There was someone else in the utility room. A boy. Arktorious Malikum.” He felt sweat gather under his armpits as he tried not to breathe in his father’s general direction. Being caught out smoking would sidetrack the situation.

“The plumber boy?”

“Yes. And he’ll be out of the house by now!”

“What?” Grasp was shaking with rage. “You mean you let him escape!” The Councillor smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Don’t they teach you the buddy obvious in school?”

Petronio was shocked. It was the guards’ fault! If only they hadn’t got in the way. As for the insults, he’d get his own back later.

His father lowered his voice. “Did you hear everything? “