He would not indulge in cheap grief. “I want to find out what happened to a girl kidnapped by the Wizard’s men a few years back. She lived at Kiamo Ko when we got there.”

“We?”

“The Witch and I…”

“The Witch and you.” Her hands reached out hungrily for the cape and rubbed its hem, as if it were leaves of thyme or hyssop. “What girl might that be?”

“Her name is Nor. She is the daughter of Fiyero, one-time prince of the Arjikis, and his wife, Sarima, also kidnapped that very day. You knew Fiyero.”

“I knew Fiyero.” It was clear Glinda did not want to speak about him. “Why should I bother with you?”

“Nor was his daughter. She was my—” Again, he couldn’t sayhalf-sister . He didn’t know. “My friend.”

Glinda reached out and took the charred broomstick and cradled it. “I know about friends.”

“Friends have children,” Liir said carefully. “If you can’t help your friends, you can help their children. Do you have children?”

“I do not. Lord Chuffrey was not so inclined.” She reconsidered. “I mean to say, he is so very old. Old and wealthy. His interests lie elsewhere.”

She drifted among the occasional tables. “I don’t know why this girl you mention was taken away, or, if she proved that much of a worry, why she should still be alive.”

“Everyone knows the Wizard is gone. Surely his enemies don’t need to stay imprisoned?

If she’s alive, why shouldn’t she be released?”

A rustling of stiffened tulle sounded in her underskirts. “How do I know you are telling the truth?” she said at last. “These are such treacherous days. I’ve spent my adult life up till now in salons and theater boxes, not in closed assembly with grasping, pinching…ministers.” She spat out the word. “Insects. And I thought girls at school were devious. Here, every impassive expression hides a bloated ambition for—for dominance, I suppose. And any one of my so-called loyal cabinet could be sending you in here with a tale designed to catch at my throat. I must have more proof you are who you profess to be. This may not be Elphie’s cape you’re sporting. Maybe my sorrow tempts me into seeing what I would love to see. This may not be her broom. Tell me more, you Liir.

How did her broom come to be so burnt?”

“I’m not sure. In truth, I didn’t see her die, I only heard what Nanny and Dorothy and the others said. I was locked downstairs. But the broom burnt, that’s all I know.”

“Anyone could tell a lie!” cried Glinda. “Anyone could burn a broom and make up a story about it!” She beat herself on the breastplate with a clenched fist, and suddenly rushed across the room, overturning a small table and shattering some china dolls. She flung the broom in the fire. “Look, I could do it, too. There’s nothing to it.”

“Take the broom, burn it,” he replied. “Take the cape and burn it, too, or sew it into a hairshirt and wear it under your fancy ball gowns. It doesn’t matter. Give me a way to get to Nor, and to get her out; you can have whatever you want. I will come back and serve you as I served the Witch. I have no other plan for my days alive once I answer the question about Nor.”