Laren’s shoulders sagged. “I don’t think I can do much, but there is a chance before she’s crowned—”
Elgin cleared his throat and looked out the window. “Too late, as of this morning.”
“What? They already held her coronation?”
“Yep. Before your Riders got sent out.”
“Those bastards. I am going to kill them. I guess the only thing left for me to do is register a formal complaint with the queen. She is now the law of the land.”
“That could be dangerous,” Elgin said.
“Estora has always been reasonable, but sudden power does have a way of changing people. Still, it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
“I recommend you eat something first.” Master Destarion appeared in the doorway bearing a tray of food and drink. “You’ve missed a few meals and that’s adding to your weakness.”
Elgin sniffed at the fine aromas rising from the tray. Laren’s stomach roiled.
“I suppose the food’s dosed with whatever you gave me the other night in the tea.” Laren said, her voice full of venom.
“I regret the necessity of what we did,” Destarion said. He set the tray on a table. Laren was tempted to upend it and throw the dishes at him, but she figured it would only be another excuse for them to dose her well and good.
“There is nothing mixed in your food or drink, except whatever spices the kitchen staff use to make it taste better,” Destarion said.
She glowered at him.
“You do have the ability to check the truth of my words,” he said.
She did, and she reached for where her brooch usually was, but it was not clasped to her sleeping gown. Elgin, who knew what she wanted, fetched her shortcoat, but her emotions must have been strong enough that she did not require contact with the brooch to receive her answer. True, her special ability told her. Destarion had not lied about the food or drink. She took her shortcoat from Elgin, and touching the brooch only reinforced the first message.
So the items on the tray were safe. The knowledge did not, however, ameliorate her anger toward Destarion. As galling as it was that she must rely on him for information on the conditions of Zachary and Ben, her concern for the two overrode her personal feelings. “How is Zachary?”
“Feverish. This will be a difficult day.”
“And Ben?”
“Still unconscious.”
“He over-exerted his ability,” Laren said. “He could have killed himself.”
“That is what we believe, but we’ve no experience with this sort of thing—at least in our lifetimes. I’ve a couple of apprentices checking back through our archives to see if there is any mention of a similar case occurring in the past.”
“You will tell me if you find out anything about Ben’s condition, won’t you.” She’d made it a statement, not a question. She was curious to know just what the mender documents said about Riders, since so little Rider history had survived the ages. It hadn’t occurred to her before to search their archives. “It could help all Riders.”
Destarion bowed. “Of course. Now I suggest you eat, as our queen has been asking to speak with you, and decisions have to be made.”
“Decisions?” she murmured, but Destarion had already left.
“I thought he was one of the ones you were going to kill,” Elgin said.
“He was. Is. After he finds out what’s going on with Ben.”
After Laren ate and dressed, no one forbade her to leave the mending wing. She peered in at Ben who lay peacefully in bed. He looked only to be asleep, but when she called to him and shook his shoulder, he did not awaken.
She also saw Sperren reclined in a daybed in a sunny common room, where an apprentice mender read to him.
“Captain!” he called out. “I’ve a new hip, is it not wonderful?”
So wonderful that Zachary was in danger of dying because of that hip, and Ben remained unconscious.
“And we’ve a new queen! ” Sperren added. “It is a remarkable day.”
Laren ground her teeth. On her way out, she said to Elgin, “I’m going to kill him, too.”
“The carnage is going to be terrible.”
Elgin accompanied her all the way to the royal apartments. It wasn’t necessary, but she was grateful for his presence. In the course of two nights, it felt as though everyone else had turned against her.
The Weapons permitted her into the private portion of the apartments, leading her to Zachary’s dressing room. There she found Colin in consultation with Zachary’s secretary, Cummings. When she arrived, they stood.
“Captain,” Colin said, “so good to see you up and about so soon after your illness.”
“You are sticking to that story, are you? So if I make trouble it will be easier to convince everyone I’ve cracked?”
“I’m so sorry, Captain,” Colin replied. “But it was necessary. We will face the consequences if it comes to that.”
“By Zachary’s hand, or mine if he is not able, you will.”
Colin’s expression darkened. “I hardly think it helps matters to make threats.”
“I don’t make threats, Colin. You know that.”
“You may find yourself in a position, Captain, unable to do more.”
“Who is making threats now?” she murmured.
Colin lifted his chin but did not reply. Cummings excused himself, no doubt to escape the tension in the room. Elgin remained solidly by her side.