“Let’s hope she has some use,” the prince replied. “However, I’m not here this morning to discuss smoke. There’s something else you should know. Two men were arrested while trying to enter the town just before the siege. The guard thought they might be spies. Under interrogation, one of them claimed that his father is Prince Thelonius of Calidor.”
Catherine shook her head. “Thelonius has no children—his sons both died recently.”
“I should have said, this man was born out of wedlock. Illegitimate but still a son. He says he never knew his father’s identity until a few weeks ago. He told me Prince Thelonius sent him a token to show his good faith and prove his story was true—a ring designed to sit within a pendant. He was traveling to Calidor to meet his father. This son may be a bastard, but it’s possible that Thelonius wants him to be recognized and legitimized.”
Tzsayn held out a gold chain.
Catherine took the chain. It was heavy and thick, and from it hung a complex pendant in the design of thorns. Set inside the thorns was a ring.
“It’s Prince Thelonius’s royal seal,” Tzsayn said simply.
Catherine sank into a chair. “But that would mean . . . he’s my cousin.”
“And, if legitimized, the future prince of Calidor.”
Catherine was in a daze. She looked up at Tzsayn. “What’s his name?”
“Edyon Foss.”
“A Pitorian name.”
“Yes. His mother was—is—Pitorian.”
Could it be true? Her cousin? Her father had always claimed that her uncle was a dishonorable coward. It would be no surprise if such a man were to have been unfaithful to his wife. Then again, her father had proved himself to be dishonorable in his dealings over Catherine’s marriage. If Edyon’s story was true, then it sounded like he had been left in the dark about his parentage all his life and was only now being summoned to his father because the prince needed an heir after the death of his legitimate children. Edyon, like Catherine, was being used by his father. She wondered if he would turn out to be as manipulative as Thelonius seemed to be. She’d have to see for herself.
Catherine gripped the arms of her chair and pushed herself to her feet.
“I want to see him.”
Tzsayn put up a hand to stay her. “Soon. His companion is gravely ill, I’m sorry to say, because of the treatment received from my interrogators. You must see him of course, but now is not the right time.”
There was a heavy knock on the door and Tanya moved to let in a man wearing a white tunic. He was breathing heavily and between gasps for air he spoke.
“Halfway round the castle . . . never knew it was so big . . . then up a thousand steps . . . for a fool’s errand.”
Prince Tzsayn went to the man. “Gregor, is it bad news about March?”
Gregor looked up, seemed surprised to find himself in the prince’s presence, then bent over again, and Catherine wasn’t sure if it was a bow or a wheeze.
“Your Highness. My apologies.” Gregor took some more deep breaths and stood. “You said to do . . . whatever I could for the patient.”
“So why are you here and not tending him?”
“The little prince wants demon smoke. He is most insistent. I’ve been twice round the castle trying to find it. The guards said they’d given it to Sir Ambrose. But finding Sir Ambrose is not so easy.”
“Well, he’s here and he has the smoke. But why does Edyon want it?”
“He says it can heal his friend’s wounds.”
“The smoke can heal?”
“No, Your Highness. It’s absolute nonsense of course, but Edyon insists it’s true.”
Catherine’s mind whirled. “But what if it isn’t nonsense? What if the smoke really can heal wounds? Is this what my father is after?”
TASH
ROSSARB, PITORIA
“OI, BIG man! You’ve got a visitor.”
Gravell was sitting on the floor of a cell every bit as cold, miserable, and smelly as the one Tash had been in. But when he saw Tash in the doorway, his hairy face cracked into such a huge smile he might have been in the finest palace in Pitoria. Tash ran to him and hugged him.
Gravell lifted her up and said, “Good to see you, missy.” And he hugged her back so hard she couldn’t breathe.
When he gently put her down Tash could feel tears in her eyes, but she couldn’t let him see that, so she wiped her face across his stomach and took a breath before forcing a smile and looking up.
“How are you keeping?”
“How do you expect, in this shithole? Did you escape or something?”
“Or something with bells on! I’ve got a royal pardon and I’m helping Princess Catherine. She wants to learn about demons.”
Gravell laughed, then checked Tash’s face. “You’re serious? Princess who?”
“Catherine. She’s betrothed to Prince Tzsayn. That’s how come I got a royal pardon.”
“Very nice too.” His eyes narrowed. “You’re not giving away any of our secrets, are you?”
Tash shook her head. “No. And I’m not exactly free. The whole town’s surrounded by Brigantines, so I can’t leave, even if I want to. But at least I’m not in these stinking cells. I’ve tried to get them to let you out too, but they won’t do it. They say I’m a child and that’s different.”
“It is different. You shouldn’t be in here.”
“Neither should you.” She remembered the food. “I’ve brought some apples and nuts and cheese. I can bring you some food every day. They’ve said I can do that.”
“That’s good.”
“And I’ve been thinking,” continued Tash, lowering her voice so the two guards who had accompanied her to the cell couldn’t hear. “There is a chance you’ll be able to escape. The Brigantines are building up to a big attack. When they do you’ll probably be moved out of the cells to make room for soldier prisoners, just like I was. If you get out—I mean, when you get out—and I’m not with you, I’ll meet you at the bottom of the path that leads up to the plateau. The one we came down.”
Gravell sniffed. “Sounds like a good plan.”
“I think it’ll work. You just need to be ready.” And she hugged Gravell again and didn’t let go of him until the jailer said her time was up.
As she left the cells and went back through the castle courtyard, Tash saw the prince and princess, with Ambrose walking behind them carrying a canvas bag that glowed red and purple.
The princess summoned her over. “Tash, come with us. We’re going to use the smoke.”
Typical, Tash thought as she fell into step behind them. It’s illegal for me and Gravell to have it, but princes and princesses can smoke as much of it as they like . . .
EDYON
ROSSARB, PITORIA
THE PHYSICIAN had left, and Edyon paced the room, then returned to March and took up his hand again. It was cool, too cool, like the life was leaving him. He needed the smoke! Where was the damn physician? Would he even find the smoke? The soldiers could have smoked it all for their own pleasure or let it escape and drift away, or . . .
Edyon went to the window, but there was no sign of the physician.
“Hurry up! Hurry up!”
He went back to March and took his hand again, feeling tears prick his eyes. “It’ll be all right. We’ll get the smoke and I’ll heal you and we’ll be on our way to a land of riches before you know it.”
But Edyon knew that was a lie. Death was all around. And it was all his fault. If only he’d not stolen the smoke in the first place. If only he’d not killed the sheriff’s man. He lifted March’s hand to his lips and kissed it, saying, “I’m sorry, March. I’m sorry.”
The door opened and Edyon sprang to his feet. However, it wasn’t the physician who stood on the threshold but the prince, and he was holding the bottle of purple smoke.
“I believe you wanted this.”
Edyon had to stop himself from snatching the bottle from the prince’s hands. “Yes, Your Highness! I know it’s illegal, but it has healing powers. It will save March. I’ve used it before.”
Tzsayn held out the bottle. “Show us.”