“He lives?” he asked in a hushed voice.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“He’s very lucky.”

I once heard a story about a hockey player whose jugular was cut by a skate during the game. He should’ve bled out, but he survived against all odds. Prysen Ol should’ve bled out as well, but for the medical cocktail he’d stabbed into his leg. Besides a booster and a pain killer, it contained a wound-sealing coagulant. He was trying to stop the bleeding in his back. Coincidentally, it had patched his jugular enough to keep him alive until the med unit could take over.

“What happens to him now?” the First Scholar asked.

“That depends on his motives. If he carries a personal grudge against the Sovereign, there will be a punishment. If he was simply a hired killer, perhaps Kosandion will find some use for him.”

The First Scholar’s feathers stood erect. “I shall beg the Sovereign for leniency! Prysen Ol is an unrivaled talent. He cannot be thrown away.”

Right. Funny how he ignored the whole “hired killer” part.

The First Scholar marched off, spun in a circle, looking around, and finally remembered I was still there. “Where is the exit?”

“Perhaps it might help to freshen up before you go to see the Sovereign?” I suggested gently.

The First Scholar slapped his head with his pseudohand, checking for his hat, realized it wasn’t there, and nodded. “A most wise advice.”

“I will return you to your quarters. Please let Tony know when you are ready to request an audience.”

I gave the inn a push, and it carried the First Scholar back onto the slide and to his quarters. I sealed the ceiling behind him.

The two prisoners slept in their cells. When they woke up, there would be hell to pay.

But neither of them would die. The Assembly wouldn’t be happy. I could just imagine the look on their faces. Still, up to now, we’d managed to keep all of our guests breathing. That had to count for something, right?

I reached through the inn, looking for Sean. He was still with Kosandion.

“Hey,” I whispered.

“Hey.”

“How is it going?”

“Busy. Behoun is trying to secede from the Dominion.”

Just what Kosandion needed.

“I’m going to get some answers,” I told him.

“Let me know how it goes.”

* * *

I paused before the doorway to Lady Wexyn’s quarters and tossed my voice inside.

“A word, Lady Wexyn?”

The doors swung open in front of me, pulled back by two veiled attendants. I strode in, with Beast trotting by my feet. Nothing had changed since my last visit. A clear stream still curved around a courtyard of brown stones, gently flowing into a wide pond. The yellow-leafed Fortune trees washed their long branches in the water. Even Lady Wexyn was in the exact same place, reclining on a chaise inside a wooden pavilion at the pond’s edge.

I approached her.