Thera’s shallow breathing eased, became deeper. She took another sip of whiskey. “Garth knows.”

“Do you?” Lia asked quietly.

Thera started shaking again. Her hand clamped on Lia’s.

“Tell us what you can,” Lia urged. “We’ll deal with the rest.”

Thera took a deep breath. “Garth knows.” Pressing closer to Blaed, she stared at Jared as if each kind of contact was a thread that helped anchor her.

Slipping off the bench, Jared knelt beside her, keeping his eyes locked to hers.

“It’s not like the tangled web that almost trapped you,” Thera told him. “It’s less and more and worse.”

Jared nodded.

“It’s like someone rooted a psychic weed inside Garth’s inner barriers that produced runners that could cover an area with voracious speed. Some of the runners went down below his inner web and then turned upward outside his barriers, forming a tangled net to keep him locked in. Other runners spread out inside his barriers, so he’s doubly caught.”

“What did you do?” Lia asked, watching Thera intently.

Thera licked her lips. “I—Mother Night, Lia, the mind that created that is so vile, so obscene.” It took her a minute before she could continue. “There’s great anger inside him. He must have tried to rip the runners away from the root because I noticed that he could open his first inner barrier a little. So I cut away the tangle surrounding his inner barriers and then . . .”

“You squeezed through that little opening, not knowing how fast that ‘weed’ might reclaim its ground, to clear a path to wherever Garth had retreated within himself,” Lia said, her voice flattened by anger.

“You would have done the same thing,” Thera said defensively.

She would have, Jared thought, and couldn’t choke back the snarl.

“I don’t think what I cut will grow back. I think that’s why something was added to make his psychic scent so repulsive—so no one would push past it. It felt like . . . like . . .”

“Falling headfirst into a giant spittoon,” Jared said.

Blaed shuddered. Thera and Lia turned a little green.

“If I throw up on you, it’s your own fault,” Thera said. She took a quick sip of whiskey.

Lia pressed a hand to her stomach and swallowed. “Don’t talk about throwing up.” Releasing Thera’s hand, she sat back. “Is he broken?”

Thera’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “I’m not sure. I had the impression this was done hurriedly.”

Lia nodded. “Because it was meant to be temporary. He could have been broken back to his Birthright Jewel.”

“What’s the point of all this?” Blaed asked.

Jared eased back onto the bench. “Destroying the one Queen capable of opposing Dorothea SaDiablo.”

“But Lia isn’t the Gray—” Blaed stopped.

Jared knew the moment Blaed put some of the pieces together and realized Lia must be more than just a young Queen serving in the Gray Lady’s court.