Quona threw her hands in the air, rocking the foxes, whose eyes flashed as they clung to her. “Compare their house to the one the silbercows have shown me?” she said. “Hope to find some connection between the explosions and this letter? Find some clue of what Mikka learned? I don’t know. I’m not cut out for this kind of intrigue. Murder is far beyond what I ever expected when I decided to . . .” She flapped a hand again.

“Interfere?” said Hava helpfully.

“I only ever meant to interfere with Parliament,” she said. “With the zilfium vote in December.”

“It’s all right,” said Giddon. “Hava and I are cut out for this kind of thing, and we have two choices. Either we stay here and try to wring information out of Benni and Cobal, or we go north, sneak onto the Cavenda property, and figure out what’s going on.”

“You know I like the second option better,” said Hava. “It’s what my Grace is made for.”

“Yes,” said Giddon. “And we’ll be better able to wring whatever we need out of Benni and Cobal after we have a sense of what we’re dealing with. Quona, why on earth are you friends with Cobal?”

“I am not his friend,” said Quona.

“You invited him to dinner last night!”

“So that I could get him out of his house!” she said. “And send my foxes in to snoop! Why do you think I ever invite anyone anywhere? Unfortunately, my foxes found nothing useful, either at his house or the Cavendas’.”

“We need to go to Torla’s Neck,” said Giddon. “Quona, who else knows what you know?”

A peculiar, guilty expression crossed Quona’s face. “I can get you an airship as soon as tomorrow, which is Sunday,” she said. “And there is someone else who knows some of what I know. It’s someone who may be able to provide you with a discreet place to stay.”

Chapter Twenty-seven

Lovisa spent all of Saturday remembering the tinny sound of the letter opener clattering against the attic window. The Queen of Monsea was alive. What should she do?

On Saturday night, she knocked on Mari’s door with purpose.

When he saw her, he grinned. “City?”

“No. I need a serious distraction,” she said.

“Okay,” he said, going with it. “Why?”

“I just do.”

“Oh, come on, Lovisa,” he said. “Something’s been going on for a while now. When are you going to tell me?”

“I can’t tell you,” she said. “Please stop asking.”

“Is someone blackmailing you or something?” he said, sounding like it was a joke, a ridiculous notion.

“No.”

“Threatening to hurt you?”

“No.” But Lovisa hesitated.

With a new kind of understanding, Mari became indignant. “Who is it? I’ll hurt them first.”

“That’s exactly why I’d never tell you! You’d rush off to do something stupid, and ruin everything. Good night. I’m going somewhere else.”