“That makes three of us, then,” Naelin said. “You, me, and Ven. The rest of Aratay seems to have already condemned them.”
Tentatively, Daleina reached out to touch the nearby spirits, to make certain they weren’t going to explode into violence again, but they felt subdued, as if they were absorbing more sadness than anger. She met Ven’s eyes and saw pain in them. The silence in the room was oppressive.
At last, two palace caretakers and more guards arrived, thankfully breaking the somber spell. Escorted by the guards, the caretakers carried a thin lacquered black box that appeared to be shaped from a single piece of wood. Smooth, it had no joints, only a lid. They placed it on one of the worktables, bowed, and retreated.
This must be the letter. And... a gift?
Garnah stepped forward. Reaching into the pockets on her skirt, she withdrew a variety of powders and began to sprinkle them on the box. She muttered to herself as she examined it from every angle, and Daleina watched as fingerprints appeared in the dust—Garnah then tossed a few drops of liquid, and the powder puffed into a cloud above the box. It dissipated in the air. “Outside is fine,” she announced.
“Did you test for—” Hamon began.
“Obviously.”
“But what about—”
“Don’t be an idiot.”
“You can’t know—”
“It’s safe.” She opened the lid and lifted a parchment out. “The gift itself is wrapped in velvet, and here is the letter.” She sniffed it and then applied an assortment of different powders, which turned purple then white. She knocked them to the floor. “Nothing alarming about the letter. You may read it.” She held it out.
Hamon took it and then passed it to Daleina, who read. “It’s addressed to Queen Naelin, not to me.”Curious, she thought.
“Read it aloud,” Naelin said without turning around. Her eyes were fixed on the fireplace, where two fire spirits curled between the logs.
“‘To Queen Naelin of the forests of Aratay, long may you reign in Renthia.’”
Garnah murmured, “A pleasant beginning.”
“Quiet,” Hamon said.
“Merely expressing an opinion.”
“Read on,” Naelin said.
Daleina saw two lizardlike fire spirits spit flames onto the hearth. Headmistress Hanna clearly noticed too, because she began whispering in Queen Naelin’s ear. The fire spirits withdrew to the logs, smoldering, their ember-black eyes glaring at the humans as if they wanted to flay them all alive.Which they do, of course, she thought.Fly and burn and bite and claw.
Daleina read, “‘Please accept my most profound apology for...’” Her voice trailed off as she scanned ahead.Oh.
Oh no.
She raised her head to look at Naelin.
“It seemsIowe you an apology,” Daleina said, trying to keep her voice calm. She forced herself to steady her hands so no one would see they’d begun shaking. “Your children are alive. This is, in essence, a ransom note.”
Across the room, Naelin made a strangled kind of sound.
“I believe it’s written by Merecot herself, not a scribe.” Daleina held the parchment out so Headmistress Hanna could see.
“Yes,” Hanna confirmed. “I remember her script. She always scrawled like that. Lousy penmanship.”
Continuing, Daleina read out loud, “‘Please accept my most profound apology for the inconvenience and pain I have caused you through my actions.’”
Naelin hissed. “‘Inconvenience’?”
The fire spirits crackled.
“Control your emotions,” Hanna cautioned.
