The darkness grew heavier, the sky pressing closer as they walked. When Giddon felt moisture touching his face, he looked up at the soft, drifting snow and remembered a night, maybe five years ago, when he’d convinced Bitterblue to go sledding outside her castle ramparts. How much Bitterblue had been suffering in those days, from all the damage her father had done. How his mood had lightened when the sledding had made her smile, even shriek with laughter. Giddon had wanted more happiness for Bitterblue before she died. He’d wanted her to grow old and have the time to heal from the nightmare of her childhood, the time to help Monsea heal in all the ways she hoped it would. He would have helped her, with all his heart.

As they reached the last stretch of the path to Quona’s house, the Estillan envoy appeared before them, crunching through the light covering of snow.

His face brightened at the sight of them, with a cheerfulness that didn’t quite match the touch of sarcasm in his voice. “Good night to you, Giddon,” he said. “Good night, Hava.”

“Good night, Cobal,” said Giddon. “Have you had a nice visit with Quona?”

“Always,” said Cobal, continuing past them toward the Cliff Farm.

“Why are those two so chummy?” asked Hava in a low voice.

“Poodles, supposedly,” said Giddon.

“What?”

“A kind of dog.”

“Right.”

As they stepped into Quona’s foyer, Quona, who was ascending the steps to the second floor, turned to greet them.

“Welcome home,” she said. “Was it a nice party?”

“Very,” said Giddon. “We just met the Estillan envoy on the path.”

“I invited him to dinner,” said Quona. “He loves my cats. I want to hear all about your party, but I’m so tired, I’m dropping. We’ll talk at breakfast.”

But when Quona joined them for breakfast the next morning, Saturday, she seemed to have forgotten her curiosity, along with her manners. Barely acknowledging them, she sat, then pulled a cat into her lap, which she didn’t usually do at meals. She began to eat with bleary distraction.

“Did you sleep well?” asked Giddon.

“Terribly, I’m afraid,” she admitted. “I’m going north again today, so please make yourselves comfortable. My staff will see that you’re well taken care of.”

Though Hava said nothing, Giddon could feel the change in her energy. Today they would get into that attic room.

—

Hava had memorized the schedules of Quona’s staff members, but still, she made Giddon stand lookout in the sitting room below while she worked in the attic with the lock picks.

“If anyone comes by, look noble and innocent, then have a loud coughing fit,” she said.