“Such men of power, afraid?”
I couldn’t tell whether the guard was indeed incredulous or mocking them. Maybe both.
“I assume,” Ronan said, “their paranoia comes from having too many enemies.”
I didn’t hear more of the conversation. I crept up the stairs to the third floor and dashed down the hallway to my room. I had no way to tell Alaric I’d failed. Again. But he would learn of the disaster soon enough. My head pounded with worry. What had I done by killing one of the king’s wizards—and the senior wizard at that? What would happen on the morrow when the wizards realized someone was hunting them?
A rhetorical question. I knew what would happen. They would begin hunting me.
CHAPTER 22
Iwoke late the next morning, a product of being out in the night and then lying in bed, concocting horrible scenarios to fret over. I finally decided I would need to be alert for whatever awaited me the next day and took a drop of the sleeping draught. It was more potent than I expected. I slept through the morning bells and would’ve entirely missed breakfast if one of the castle maids hadn’t knocked on my door.
She was a pert girl with freckles and red hair. “Mage Warison sent me,” she explained. “He said your lady’s maid is unwell, and you required someone’s help to dress.”
Thoughtful of him to remember me when he must have quite a bit on his mind. I nodded dumbly as though yes, this was the reason I was still in my night clothes, my hair wild and unplaited.
She set about helping me into a gown. Her name was Alice, and she had a penchant for talking. With very little encouragement on my part, she told me that the castle was in an uproar.
“Mage Redboot was murdered last night,” she said in a hushed voice. “Awful like. When they found him, he was nothing but a skeleton.”
The word murdered made my stomach lurch. I wasn’t just someone who took magic from men who’d abused it. I’d become a murderer. “Have they any idea who did it?”
“A powerful wizard,” Alice said. “Who else could strip a man down to his bones?”
I shifted uncomfortably. “Many powerful wizards are here in the castle.”
“Aye, and they’re getting fewer with each passing day. That’s the truth. And the ones left are beginning to act peculiar-like. This morning Mage Saxeus burst from his room, raving like a madman. Kept screaming he’d been robbed. No one could calm him.”
As she brushed my hair, she murmured more about the happenings in the castle—how none of the servants got more than a few hours of sleep because guards searched every room on the second floor.
Another thing to feel guilty about. When guests came to Docendum and Carendale, our workload always increased. I couldn’t imagine what having so many highborn, demanding guests at the castle must be like for the servants.
After Alice made me presentable, I shuffled off to the dining hall to see how much of breakfast I’d missed. At my table, the discussion was of the night’s events. Lord Percy was enjoying an undue amount of attention, as he knew details others weren’t privy to. He was acquainted with the Ainsworth family whom Mage Saxeus had worked for before his elevation and had learned things from them.
“Saxeus’ mark was stripped from him like linen from a bed. The bloke hasn’t a lick of magic left. No one has any idea who did it.”
Master Godfrey finished off a piece of goose. “Someone clearly didn’t approve of the king’s choice of appointment.”
“I thought,” Madame Godfrey said, “that only a group of wizards could erase a mark. How did a group of them manage it without anyone knowing?”
Lord Percy shrugged. “I suppose the same way the assailants found Redboot and turned him into a skeleton.”
Agnes shivered. “It’s so brutal, so horrible.”
“So uncivilized,” Lady Edith agreed, frowning her disapproval. “Really, it was a most unbecoming murder. One wonders about people who would do such a thing.”
She didn’t glance at me as she said the words, but they were directed at me. She suspected I was involved and didn’t approve of me skeletonizing people.
“Perhaps his death was an accident,” I said, “something that went awry.”
Everyone at the table stared at me.
Agnes cocked her head, considering me like I was a simpleton. “You think an accomplished wizard accidentally uttered some spell in the middle of the night that dissolved his own flesh?” She snorted in derision. “It’s just as probable that a knight found with a sword sticking from his chest accidentally ran himself through.”
Her family laughed at this notion with her.
Lady Edith, to her credit, came to my defense. “Magic is a good deal trickier than a sword. Although still, one would expect people to act more carefully.”