Page 83 of Kingdom of Feathers

This wasn’t us.

“I know it wasn’t,” said Basil reassuringly.

But even as the general frowned over her words, Wren felt a jolt of unease go through her stomach. She’d bet her life that her father knew nothing of this secret mine. He hadn’t even visited the front line in years. But she knew of another Mistran who definitely had. One who even had magic. She gasped as the baronet’s image flashed before her mind’s eye—the ostentatious jewelry he wore! She’d assumed the stones were rubies, but were they actually fire jasper? Fire jasper which he’d had harvested from this very mine?

Wren’s eyes widened as she realized why the dull red stone looked familiar. Caleb’s ring! She remembered her father telling her how expensive it had been to acquire an enchantment so powerful. Had the use of precious fire jasper in the protective magic been part of what made it so expensive? If Mistra claimed some of this mine, could her father have such artifacts made for all of his children?

But the value of the fire jasper wasn’t important right now. What mattered was establishing who was stealing it.

Scrubbing out her message, she hastily scrawled two words and thrust it back in Basil’s face.

“Sir Gelding?” he read aloud, sounding confused. “The one who’s courting your friend? What about him?” He frowned. “He has magic, doesn’t he? Do you suspect him of involvement?”

Wren nodded emphatically, frustration flaring at her inability to quickly communicate her thoughts.

“I thought he was against the war, though,” Basil mused.

Wren nodded once more. She pulled back her slate, but Basil caught up with her thoughts before she had to write anything down.

“Of course,” the king mused in sudden understanding. “It wouldn’t serve his interests for Mistra to invade Entolia, and drive the battle beyond the border. Because then the Mistran crown could begin mining.”

Wren nodded grim agreement. The baronet wouldn’t want either full scale war, or a stable peace between the two kingdoms. Either course would expose what was happening on the site of the ore deposit. If he was behind this secret mine, the current situation was ideal for him. The ongoing skirmishes prevented the site from being properly explored by either crown.

With a sudden thrill of fear, Wren realized that he’d been speaking to Lady Anneliese when she approached her friend. He must know about her supposed visit to Lady Anneliese’s manor. Would he go to visit his betrothed, and discover that they’d actually left the manor? Would he figure out where they’d gone? He wouldn’t be happy about either her or Basil examining the battlefield.

In fact, he was probably less than pleased about them working together at all.

She looked up to see Basil watching her closely. Whether his thoughts had followed the same route as hers, she didn’t know. But he seemed to have reached a similar destination, judging by the anger growing in his eyes.

“He’s been in Myst all this time, too, hasn’t he?” Basil asked sharply.

Wren nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing. She’d thought Sir Gelding was staying in the capital purely to press his suit with Lady Anneliese. But perhaps he’d had a different motive as well, to keep a wary eye on the visiting king. Perhaps it was no coincidence that his stay had been unexpectedly lengthened just as Basil’s had.

“Do you think he’s the one who tried to drown you in the pond?” Basil pressed. “There can’t be that many enchanters with access to the castle—why didn’t we think of him before?”

Shaking her head, Wren scratched out a new message.

I did think of him, and I made discreet inquiries. His magic isn’t the type that can control plants.

“Controlling plants?” the Entolian sergeant chimed in unexpectedly. He’d clearly been reading Wren’s words over his king’s shoulder. “That’s a rare power. I’ve only ever met one person who can do that.”

“Who?” Basil demanded. “When did you meet him?”

“Years ago,” said the sergeant. “We enchanters do tend to rub shoulders with one another, whether we want to or not.” For some reason there was bitterness in his voice.

“Yes, but who was he?” Basil demanded impatiently.

“I don’t remember his name, Your Majesty,” said the sergeant with a shrug. “He was the son of a farmer—magic hadn’t been seen for three generations in his family, so it was quite a surprise. Their lands were near here, actually.” He frowned. “Most likely they’ve been overrun by the war, now I think about it.”

Wren and Basil exchanged a glance, and as so often seemed to be the case, she knew he was thinking the same thing she was. It sounded like this enchanter had a reason to be angry at the royals who’d thrown his kingdom into war. Maybe even angry enough to attack the princess of his enemy kingdom? But how would he have gained access to the castle to attack her in the first place? Surely he could have found a more direct way to express his anger.

She thought back over the incident, and the conversation that had come before it. She and Basil had been speculating about a link between the attacks on various royals across Solstice. She’d wondered afterward if it was possible they were onto something—that her attacker was part of some kind of shadowy league of enchanters, and had heard somehow, and wanted to stop them pursuing the lead. But then Basil had started figuring out the secret of the swans, and it had driven all thought of a possible continent-wide conspiracy of magic from her mind.

It still seemed to her that the most likely motive for stopping her and Basil from working together was to hide the mine in which they now stood. Which brought her back, not to the unknown Entolian farmer with plant-based power, but to Sir Gelding, whom she knew for a fact didn’t have magic that controlled plants.

Suddenly, the entry she’d read about combined power danced once again before her eyes, and she stiffened. Basil was still watching her, his expression intense, and she knew the moment they locked eyes that he’d caught her change in posture.

“Everyone,” Basil said, keeping his eyes on Wren, “I want you to go back the way we came, make sure our tunnel in is clear enough for the princess to comfortably accompany us back to the surface.”

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