It was a long and difficult day, and Maia could not banish the kishion from her thoughts. She had summoned Jon Tayt after the council meeting to tell him what the kishion had demanded of her. Jon Tayt had frowned fiercely, and his anger toward the kishion had barely cooled by nightfall. He insisted on going everywhere with her, and she found his constant companionship a reminder of the voyage they had made together.
Later that day, as Maia ate in her private chambers, Suzenne arrived with Doctor Bend to report on the condition of the Prince of Hautland. The night before, Prince Oderick had come down with a mild fever. During the day, the fever had grown rapidly, and other symptoms had manifested themselves. He was isolated from all but his most loyal servants, who refused to leave his side but still pressed linen napkins to their mouths whenever they stood near him. The doctor’s report made Maia cringe, and she found she could not finish her meal. Jon Tayt happily devoured it.
As soon as the doctor had left, Suzenne came over to her and whispered in her ear.
“I know you are tired, Maia, but there is one person who came after nightfall for an audience with you. I tried to find out what she wants, but she says she will only tell you.” Suzenne pulled back and looked into Maia’s eyes. “It is Maeg Baynton. She claims it is important Cipher business.”
Maia looked at Suzenne in concern. She had not given much thought to her erstwhile enemy Maeg, who had tormented her while they were studying at Muirwood together. She was the daughter of the dead sheriff of Mendenhall. Maia had heard nothing about her since they had both left the abbey—she had been too consumed with the troubles of her kingdom to worry about a girl who could not stand her.
Maia felt an oncoming sigh. “She will not tell you?”
Suzenne shook her head. “Should I have her wait until tomorrow?”
“No,” Maia said, touching her friend’s arm. “Send her in.”
After Suzenne left, Maia shot a worried glance at Jon Tayt.
“I remember the lass,” he said candidly. “Pretty face. Mean as a cat whose tail was run over by a cart.”
Maia stifled a smile as the door to her private room opened and Suzenne ushered Maeg inside. She shut the door after the girl, leaving her alone with Maia and Jon Tayt.
The gown Maeg wore was instantly and painfully familiar. It marked her as one of the servants of Lady Shilton. Maia herself had eventually been given a gown after the same fashion. She had worn it on the Blessing of Burntisland. She had worn it while facing the lost abbey. She had worn it across Dahomey and into Mon. Seeing Maeg wear a similar gown made her draw up short.
“You serve Lady Shilton?” Maia asked in surprise.
“Yes,” Maeg said, fidgeting with her skirts. She looked uncomfortable . . . no, she looked terror-stricken. Her eyes were haunted.
“What is it?” Maia asked, rising to her feet and walking toward the other girl. “What has happened?”
“I tried to come earlier,” Maeg said, her voice low and soft. She glanced around the room surreptitiously. “We are truly alone except for the hunter?”
Maia felt a spasm of fear. “Yes. Suzenne said you wanted to tell me something. Why could you not share the truth with her?”
The suggestion made Maeg look even more miserable, if it were possible. “Because it concerns her as well, and she was my friend once . . . before she was yours.”
“Tell me,” Maia said softly, stroking the girl’s arm. “I am not your enemy, Maeg.”
Maeg tried to laugh but could not. She sighed, mastered her emotions with apparent difficulty, and continued. “I did find a position after Muirwood,” she said. Smoothing the skirts of her gown, she continued, “with Lady Shilton. Aldermaston Joanna . . . she encouraged it discreetly, believing it would help you to have a Cipher in that household.” She paused and stared down at the ground for a moment before speaking again. “My apparent dislike of you, Your Majesty, actually helped me earn the position.”
Maia tried to listen patiently, but she could sense the news would be terrible. “Go on.”
“Just before the Hautlander ships arrived, a ship from Dahomey came.” Maia’s heart flinched, and she tried to keep her expression guarded. “Secret visitors entered Lady Shilton’s manor. One was a man, a Dochte Mandar. He bore a Dahomeyjan name . . . Corriveaux . . . and he seemed to know Lady Shilton.” Maeg swallowed, fidgeting more. “There were other men with him . . . dangerous men. Men that made me shudder. They guarded the house, and no one was allowed in or out during his visit. They gave something to Lady Murer. At first I thought it was just a necklace . . . but Maia, it was a kystrel.” Fear flashed in her eyes. “I watched her summon its power. Her eyes glowed silver. I have never been so frightened.”
“By Idumea,” Maia whispered in horror.
Corriveaux had taken from her the kystrel that Chancellor Walraven had given her. It was full of Maia’s memories and fears and emotions. She knew, without being told, that this was the same kystrel he had given to Murer.
“That was before they took Lady Murer,” Maeg added.