She’d hear me soon. I crouched in front of the door, inserting the tips of two of my skewers into the lock and beginning to work. Everything else fell away, replaced by the calm simplicity of the tumblers and the way they interacted with my makeshift lock picks. Devin had always called me a natural where breaking and entering was concerned, and while I might not be proud of my roots, that didn’t mean I was going to reject the skills they’d given me. Better to be a respectable detective who could pick a lock than one who stood helplessly outside a locked door, refusing to do something I was fully capable of.
Morality, like everything else, is often a matter of which side of the situation you’re standing on.
The tumblers clicked open. I left my skewers in place as I drew my sword. Then I reached up, grasped the knob, and turned it. There was no point in hiding the evidence that I’d been here when I was about to show up in person.
Verona was standing near the window shouting at Minna. Minna was shouting back. They were too wrapped up in their private drama to have noticed me, and so I risked a glance around the room, trying to get a feel for what had gone on in here.
Too many of the biers were occupied. I blinked, bringing them into focus, and swallowed a gasp. Quentin and Walther were both there, the one crumpled like a discarded rag, the other stretched out like a king in state. They were asleep, their chests rising and falling with drugged slowness. Elf-shot. They’d been elf-shot. They wouldn’t rejoin the land of the living for a hundred years, or until the cure was administered—and Walther was the one who knew how to make the cure.
I had a moment of sickening terror before I remembered that Siwan could almost certainly recreate Walther’s work, even if he wasn’t awake to help her with the potion. Assuming the conclave went well, they’d be awake sooner rather than later.
Nolan and Duke Michel were on their biers, where I’d expected them to be. Dianda’s bier had been replaced by a shallow trough of water, with her lying at the bottom like a drowned maiden. It was a disappointment but not a real shock to see Tybalt lying on Dianda’s other side. The fairy ring had kept me in place long enough for Arden to move him to a place of supposed safety, and now here we were, all in danger together, one more time.
Jin wasn’t here. Either she’d been somewhere else, or she’d managed to get away. That gave me a small amount of hope. We might be able to survive this. I turned back to Verona and Minna. They still hadn’t noticed me. That was about to change.
“In the name of Queen Arden Windermere in the Mists, High King Aethlin Sollys, High Queen Maida Sollys, and a bunch more nobles who’d like you to cut this shit out, you are under arrest,” I said, as clearly and coherently as I could. The urge to charge in and start swinging was strong. Surely I couldn’t be charged with violation of the Law if the decapitation was accidental.
Verona and Minna stopped shouting at each other and turned to stare at me in wide-eyed disbelief, briefly united by their surprise. Verona found her voice first. “You,” she said. “How are you here? We left you prisoned in a circle. You can’t have followed us.”
“Turns out the circle was pretty half-assed,” I said. “It broke, I followed. You have nowhere left to run. Come quietly and maybe the High King will be gentle with you.” That wasn’t going to happen. Whether she realized it or not, Queen Verona had signed her own conviction when she jammed an arrow into Quentin’s arm. The Sollys family might have been able to forgive her treason and insurrection, but they weren’t going to forgive a direct attack on their only son.
“I told you,” said Minna. “I didn’t have time to set the traps in that room, not with you moving around and refusing to let me mark them. The fairy rings I scattered were weak, to prevent you being snared and stuck until someone came to free you.”
“That didn’t stop you from killing my husband, you washed-out, death-born bitch,” snarled Verona. Her attention swung back to me. “You can’t arrest me. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“The Law may be the only crime that can carry a death sentence, but I’m willing to bet that between Arden and the High King and Queen, they’ll come up with something to punish you for,” I said. “That’s the trouble with having a justice system built on royal whims. Sometimes they work against you.”
Verona turned to Minna. “Kill her,” she said calmly.
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“No,” said Minna.
“Kill her or I’ll kill your sister,” said Verona.
“I’m right here,” I said. “I have a sword.”
“You can’t threaten her anymore,” said Minna. “I know you won’t hurt her. Not as long as you want to control me. Leave my sister alone, and maybe I’ll be willing to listen to you.”
“Didn’t you just, you know, kill her husband? King Kabos of Highmountain? Remember him? He’s dead. Maybe you should move away from her, and stop letting her tell you what to do.” I’ve been attacked and I’ve been belittled. I’d never been ignored while people argued about what to do with me. Especially not when I was heavily armed and already covered in blood.
Covered in blood . . . “Minna,” I said, causing the Barrow Wight to look at me in surprise. She’d never told me her name. Kabos had done that, bleeding out his secrets under my hand. “Who stabbed Madden?”
“She did,” said Minna, indicating Verona. “He wouldn’t stop barking.”
“There’s no crime in killing a dog,” said Verona dismissively.
“There’s certainly a crime in killing the Queen’s Seneschal,” I said. Verona turned to stare at me. I smiled. “Madden is Arden’s best friend and closest confidant. More importantly, he’s Cu Sidhe. You’re not innocent anymore.”
Verona took a step backward. “Don’t touch me!”
“Now you’d run? Now you’d flee? Because your hands aren’t clean?” Minna reached out and grabbed Verona’s arm, digging in her fingers until the other woman yelped and squirmed, trying to get away. “My hands were clean! My sister’s hands were clean!” Her face was starting to distort, becoming the monstrous mask she had worn when she killed the king.
Verona wailed.
I lowered my sword. “Let her go,” I said, softly. “She deserves justice. So do you. Let her go, and I’ll take you both to Arden to stand trial. If there’s any way to go gently on you, she’ll find it.” There wasn’t. Minna was going to die. But maybe she would be the last.
“My sister’s name is Avebury,” said Minna. “She’s only fifteen. She doesn’t know what the world will do to you. She doesn’t know what the world demands. Get her out of Highmountain. Don’t let them hurt her.”
“Please, let her go.” I took a step forward. “You know that an easy death is more than she deserves. Let her stand trial.”
“Did the dog live?”
Minna’s question was so abrupt that it took me a moment to realize what she was asking. I nodded. “Yes, but—”
“Then so will she. What’s a hundred years, to a monster? That’s what she made of me. She could only do that because of what she was.” Minna’s face softened a bit. “She came to me after my mother died and said ‘do what I say and your sister will have the best of everything; refuse me, and she will have the worst.’ My mother died as her assassin. This ends only with an ending, not with a pause.”
“Please, she’s mad, please,” moaned Verona.
“This ends,” said Minna, and ran for the nearest window, dragging Verona by the arm.
I realized what was about to happen as soon as she began to move. “Minna, no!” I shouted, dropping my sword and lunging for her.
Her shoulder hit the glass. It shattered, and she fell through, dragging Verona with her. I grabbed Verona’s arm, hoping to pull them back. Minna turned to look at me, briefly arrested in her descent. There was sorrow in her eyes, deep and profound and utterly resigned.