The truth was, Dorian’s warm words had unsettled me too—but probably for very different reasons from Volusian. Still wanting to conserve the power it took to keep him within the Yew Land, I sent Volusian away and then stretched out on my cot to wait. I didn’t know how long it would take to get results from my plan—if I’d even get them. I was also worried about Varia acting on her threats to start killing off my companions in the dungeon. I could only hope that like any good super villain, she’d give me fair warning and try to kill them in front of me in order to force my hand. That wasn’t a fate I wanted, but at least I could be reasonably confident they weren’t dead already.

Hours passed. The guards brought me a meager meal, again making me wonder what those in lesser accommodations had. I didn’t think Varia had reason to poison me, but I still summoned Volusian briefly to see if he detected anything magical about the food. He didn’t, so I took the risk of eating in order to keep my strength up.

I was just finishing the food up when something caught my eye in the tiny window near the ceiling. Spots, Alea’s falcon, had just landed. With a bit of maneuvering, he worked his way through the bars so that he could look down at me but otherwise didn’t leave the sill.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” I breathed. “You actually made it.”

My gamble had been that the Hemlock people would still be hanging around the throne room, hoping for an audience with Varia. In the message I’d sent with Volusian, I’d told Dorian to see if he could manage any private words with Alea when he went to see the queen. There were guards everywhere, but if ever there was someone who could cause distraction and misdirection, it was Dorian. If he pulled it off, I’d asked that he tell Alea to send her falcon to me. The only directions I had were to look for a small window on the third floor, but I figured Spots could fly from window to window in search of me—provided there were no enchantments on the windows. The entire plan had been tenuous, and yet, here I was, with a semi-intelligent falcon watching me expectantly.

“So, um, thanks for coming,” I said to Spots. He blinked and said nothing, not that I really could have expected otherwise. “Anyway. I know you have some connection to Alea. I don’t know if you relay messages through bird language or if she sees through your eyes, but I need you to convey something to her. Can you do that? Is there some sign you can give me?”

If staring without a sound was the way birds said, “Yes,” then Spots gave me a resoundingly affirmative answer.