Page 57 of Kingdom of Feathers

Wren considered his words, trying to put the timing together. She remembered the sensation it had caused when rumor had reached Myst of the attack on Prince Justin of Albury. It was hard to forget—it wasn’t every day a royal got turned into a beast and disappeared from the face of the continent. But she and her brothers had already been two years into their curse by then. If the same enchanters were behind both attacks, they’d moved against Mistra first. Perhaps they’d been emboldened by their supposed success, and carried on to Albury?

“What are you thinking, Wren?” Basil’s eyes studied her face, and he tipped his head encouragingly toward her slate, which she hadn’t even realized she’d been tapping with her fingernails.

Again Wren glanced at Lord Baldwin, but there was no help for it. She stepped over to her usual bench. If she was going to be writing prolonged messages, it would be easier if she could lean on her lap to do it. Seating herself, she held up a single hand to tell Basil she would need a minute, and he nodded accommodatingly.

Our agent reported that it was a single disgruntled Mistran behind that attack.

she wrote.

Although it’s true that, according to him, the enchantment was stronger than anyone would have expected from one enchantress.

She frowned, leaning back and mulling it over. Basil stood nearby, his hands clasped behind his back as usual, making no attempt to hurry her. Almost absently, she handed him the slate while she thought.

He read it quickly, and she noticed that Lord Baldwin’s apparent reluctance didn’t stop him from reading over his sovereign’s shoulder.

“Interesting,” said Basil.

Wren’s thoughts solidified, and she gestured impatiently for him to return her slate. Once he did so, she rubbed the first message out and scratched another.

It’s a similar inconsistency to my own attack, isn’t it? Our enchantress threw something at my brothers and me which should have been beyond her power.

Basil’s expression became keen as he scanned her words. “Perhaps there is a connection,” he breathed. “Foolish of us not to think of it before.”

Wren nodded emphatically, her mind whirling with possibilities. Should they approach Albury’s monarchs, and ask for any information they might have? The thought was intimidating. Perhaps that would be a mistake—was it possible the Alburian crown had been involved? But that made no sense. Not when King Justin had himself been a victim.

A sudden thought occurred to her and she gasped. Bending over her slate, she scratched out another message.

And it was shortly after the attack in Albury that the Listernian princess fell afoul of her own curse, which everyone said was an incredibly strong one!

She pushed the slate back into Basil’s hands, then paused. That wasn’t quite right, though, was it? Because the Listernian princess’s curse had been cast a long time before, when she was an infant. Surely the same group of enchanters weren’t working against royalty as long ago as that.

Lord Baldwin cleared his throat, his expression more uneasy than ever. “Your Majesty,” he said, looking only at Basil, although he was clearly responding to Wren’s scribbled message. “I think you may be creating connections that aren’t there.”

Basil stared at him. “But you’re the one who said the same enchanters might have targeted both Albury and Mistra.”

“I know I did,” Lord Baldwin said hurriedly. “But I merely meant that if the enchantress who attacked the Mistran princes was aided by another unseen attacker, as you seem to suspect, that person might have been involved in the attack on Albury’s prince as well. I wasn’t suggesting some vast conspiracy.”

Wren frowned. She and Basil had only suggested that there might be a connection between the various attacks against royalty. It was a bit much for Lord Baldwin to talk as though they were letting their imaginations run wild.

“Well, if I’m not to draw connections, whatwereyou suggesting I do with your information?” Basil asked his advisor mildly.

“That’s a matter for you, Your Majesty,” said Lord Baldwin with a shrug. “I suppose I was merely suggesting that it might be worth looking in Albury for renegade enchanters as well as in Mistra.”

Wren considered him. It wasn’t hard—she could stare at him with impunity given he seemed to be avoiding looking at her. She’d had the same thought herself, about going to Albury. But somehow the fact that Lord Baldwin had suggested it made her less inclined to actually do it.

“It’s a worthwhile suggestion,” Basil said lightly. “We should go. My head guard wishes to meet with me.” His eyes met Wren’s, and she read their silent message. They would discuss this matter further at a later time, without Lord Baldwin’s restrictive presence.

The private communication warmed Wren—she couldn’t help but be pleased to know Basil trusted her, and considered her his primary ally in his goals, in spite of their kingdoms’ situation. She gave him a nod, and a smile that she rarely bestowed on anyone else.

Glancing at Lord Baldwin, she saw he was watching the two royals, his discomfort even more clear than before. But he followed his sovereign’s lead and took his leave, hurrying alongside Basil toward the castle.

Wren sat on her bench for a long time after they left, thinking it all over. If Lord Baldwin’s information was a lead, it wasn’t a terribly encouraging one. The idea that they needed to consider every magic-user in Albury as well as Mistra and Entolia didn’t exactly get them closer to their goal.

Pushing herself to her feet, Wren wandered toward the pond. For once, none of her brothers had tried to push their way into her conversation with Basil and Lord Baldwin, and she wanted to at least check on Caleb before going inside again. Standing by the reeds, she could see a few of them far out in the center of the pond, but she was too far away to recognize who was who. She glanced around, her eyes alighting on a small path which wound its way up a rocky ledge. The gardeners had used ingeniously disguised pumps to create a small waterfall which fell in a constant cascade from the top of the ledge into the pond. Wren stepped onto the path, thinking that she’d get a good vantage point from alongside the waterfall. There was no need to disrupt whatever her brothers were doing.

She reached the top of the ledge quickly, and turned her eyes back to the swans. Ah yes, there was Caleb, floating lopsidedly with his bad wing out at its usual strange angle. He seemed to be in conversation with…was that Bram? No, Averett. Bram was probably off spying on Basil through a window somewhere.

Wren was leaning forward, trying to identify a smaller swan which had just come up from a dive, when it happened.

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