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arched bridge in your late cousin’s famous gardens. E. R.
    â€œWindham . . . he wants to meet in Martin’s gardens at Windham.” I wadded the notepaper and threw it to the floor. “Cheeky bastard! How dare he set foot there!”
    Martin, Earl of Gault, had been my mother’s distant cousin and my dearest friend and mentor when I was a girl. On the same day the king and the Council of Lords had condemned Karon to burn, Evard had executed Martin, his beloved mistress, and Tennice’s brother Tanager, accusing them of plotting with sorcerers to topple his throne. Only chance had allowed Tennice to escape death. No matter who claimed Martin’s land and titles now, the thought of Evard walking in Martin’s gardens was vile. Vile.
    â€œOne more thing,” said Rowan. “The messenger said, ‘Tell her that a search for one missing person may turn up others who should never be found.’ ”
    Cold fear quickly doused my indignation. “Stars of night! Could Evard know about Gerick?”
    â€œThey said no more than I’ve told you. I thought maybe they knew of the three sorcerers living at your place. At least they’re well away.”
    On his first venture to save D’Arnath’s Bridge, Karon had healed three Zhid, restoring the souls that had been stolen from them centuries before. The three had stayed at my old cottage for a while, but were now back in Gondai on a mission for Karon. Out of Evard’s reach, at least. But if the king had any idea about Gerick . . . that he was Karon’s son . . . a sorcerer, too . . .
    I snatched up the letter from the floor and stared at it again. And then there was the matter of Tennice. . . . Rowan watched me, his thumb rubbing the brim of his hat.
    â€œI can’t let Evard start looking for me,” I said. “Any questioning of my old associations would lead him to Tennice’s father, which could easily point them here. Not only would that endanger Gerick, but Tennice is still condemned.” That my old friend had escaped execution sixteen years ago was only a matter of luck.
    â€œPerhaps it’s time for you to move on. Away from here.”
    â€œWhere could we go? We can’t hide forever.” Very much wished . . . Your counsel is needed . . . “Besides, I’m curious. . . .”
    Perhaps it was the week’s tension that made me so certain I had to answer Evard’s summons, anything to get away from Verdillon and the teeth-on-edge days. For myself, I wasn’t afraid of the king. Even his not-so-veiled threat could not shake my confidence; I believed it nothing but an indication of urgency, a clumsy effort at persuasion. Evard had always been a bully. But his friendship for my brother, proven over and over again, had prevented him from physically harming me. And somehow, on the day I had told him of Tomas’s death and the strange circumstances surrounding it, I had felt that youthful loyalty transferred to me, a gift of grief in a heart that knew little softness.
    No, my only concern in such a meeting would be Gerick’s safety. I didn’t want Evard getting curious about him, yet I couldn’t leave him behind, either; the echoes of my son’s night terrors still rang in my ears.
    â€œI think I’d best find out what he wants. Gerick will have to come with me. And Radele, too. We’ll travel in disguise, so if Evard is planning a trap, it won’t work, because we won’t arrive in the way he expects. The change will do us good.”
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    I mustered my arguments carefully before approaching the others with my idea. But to my astonishment, Gerick threw himself into planning it right away. “Paulo will have to come, too, don’t you think? He’s the best of all of us at slipping in and out of places and getting people to say things they never meant to say. We’ll want to scout out the situation before you meet King Evard.”
    The