Raisa leaned forward, hands on her knees, stomach churning, her mind racing like a mouse in a box trap. “We need to speak to Fiona. We’ll bring her in and question her, see if her story matches Flinn’s. And…and then we’ll find other people who were at the Smiling Dog that night.”

“I already talked to Fiona,” Amon said.

Raisa stared at him, betrayed. “You…you talked to her? Without me?”

Amon sighed. “The Bayars came to me before Flinn did. Lord Bayar, Micah, and Fiona.”

“Oh?” Raisa said, her voice brittle. “So what did they have to say behind my back?”

“Please don’t, Rai,” Amon said. He paused, and then continued. “They came to me with concerns about your safety. Fiona said that Alister approached her at the Council House the night of his first meeting. He claimed to be of royal lineage, and said he had a proposal for her.”

“Royal lineage? Han Alister?” Raisa recalled the first day she’d met him, black and blue from a beating, his knife at her throat, speaking in his thieves’ cant. “What royal lineage?”

“I asked the same question,” Amon said. “After some hemming and hawing, they admitted that he never came right out and said. He claimed he was a wizard with royal blood. That he was heir to a magical legacy even greater than the Bayars’.”

Raisa tried to make sense of it. Han’s father had fought in Arden. Could he be somehow related to the royal families in Arden or Tamron? If so, why wouldn’t he tell her?

She shook her head. “I don’t believe it.”

Amon said nothing.

“So,” Raisa forced herself to say, “he had a proposal for Fiona.…”

“He offered to make her consort. After he murdered you and Mellony and claimed the throne.”

Amon might as well have clubbed her over the head.

“Amon, you know that can’t be true,” Raisa flared. “I would have been dead months ago, if that was the plan. And why would Han want to team up with Fiona Bayar, of all people?” She shuddered.

“Fiona claims he’s obsessed with her. He hasn’t made his move, because he wanted to wait until he had control of the Wizard Council before he acted against you.”

Raisa groped for a counterargument. “This conversation supposedly happened the day of Han’s first council meeting?”

“Yes,” Amon said warily.

“When did the Bayars come to you?”

“Yesterday. Why?”

“If Han was talking treason, why didn’t Fiona come to me right away? Why did she wait so long? Why did she meet with him again? Did it take her that long to make up her mind?” Raisa’s voice kept rising until she was nearly shouting.