“What?” I demand. “Do you not want to open it now?”
“No,” she says. She pulls the folded parchment from a pocket in her skirts. “I already did.”
Thearchery competition is on the second day.
Father will be on the fields to observe.
Use your bestarrows,and do not miss your target.
“I can’t believe I’ve been burning my fingers for days overthis. It’s not exactly an assassination plan.” The message surely isn’t meaningless—why would it be worth so much?—but it definitely doesn’t say anything we could run to the palace about. We couldn’t even take this to the magistrate.
I fold the parchment back together. There’s a dark spot where the wax sat. A clenching in my chest when I consider that we might be killed by Lord Alek or his people for daring to do this.
“What made you open it?” I say quietly.
“I kept trying to re-create the wax mixture, and it wasn’t working. I thought perhaps I could melt a bit of this one. I held it over a steaming pot, and it softened right up.” She pauses. “It might not be a plan, but it’s definitely a time, right? An opportunity?”
“WouldFatherbe the king?”
“Maybe.” She bites at her lip, studying the letter. “Alek told me of a special steel from Iishellasa that can affect magic. Like the rings Lord Tycho wears.”
The ones he doesn’t wear anymore.
“He said the steel can workagainstmagic, too,” she says. She tugs at the pendant under the neckline of her blouson, pulling it free. “He said this was made of the same steel.”
I reach out, running my fingers over the metal. It’s darker than the rings Tycho wears. “Like some kind of ward against it?”
She nods. “Maybe.” Her voice drops, and she closes her fingers around the pendant. “I’ve been wondering if perhaps it kept me and Nora safe during the attack on the palace.”
My eyes flick up to meet hers. “Do you really think that?”
“Maybe.” She reaches out to tap the letter. “Use your best arrows. I think they have weapons that will hurt the king.”
My chest clenches.
“They passed Briarlock a day ago,” Callyn continues. “Did you hear?”
“Who?”
“The king and everyone who’d travel with him.”
“No. I didn’t hear.” I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who I can take this to.
Tycho.
But that’s just as dangerous as it would’ve been when I wanted to take it to himsealed. I don’t even know if I’d be able to make it intime.
Cal sighs, then digs a hand into her pocket. “I brought the original wax. If you’ve made a seal, at least we can put it back together.”
“Yeah.” I stand, take the ball of swirled wax, and move to melt it over the heat of the forge.
But then I stop and unfold the paper against the table. I take a piece of wrapped kohl and rewrite the words on a new slip of parchment.
“What are you doing?” demands Cal.
“I want to make sure I have the exact words.” I hold the wax over the fire, and it begins to melt.
Almost immediately, the colors begin to blend.
