“This Hyhborn lord you talked to?” Grady drew my attention back to him. “Was he from Primvera?”
“No, but I don’t know where he is from.” My stomach dipped and twisted. I hadn’t told Grady that the Lord had been my Hyhborn lord. Grady didn’t like to talk about that night in Union City. That wasn’t a good enough excuse for not saying anything, but I’d also never told him that I knew I’d see the Lord again.
Glancing at the horizon, I saw that the faint traces of smoke remained, and it happened again. The coldness between my shoulder blades and the hollow in my stomach. The whisper returned, repeating the same two words it had said in the Great Chamber.
He’s coming.
Upon returning, I found the Baron in his study, seated at the settee with a cloth draped over his forehead and eyes, thankfully alone.
Straw hat in hand, I pushed the door all the way open. “Claude?”
He lifted a limp wrist. “Lis, darling, do come in.”
I closed the door behind me and went to the matching forest-green settee across from the one he sat in. “How are you doing this morning?”
“I’m feeling quite well.” He leaned back, crossing one long leg over the other. “Can’t you tell?”
I smiled a little, sort of amused by the fact that even caelestias could get hangovers. “Yes, you look energetic and ready to seize the day.”
“You are too kind, pet.” A wan grin appeared beneath the pale blue cloth. “What brings you to me this morning?”
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
“I do hope it’s good news.” When I didn’t answer, he peeled the cloth back from one half-open eye. “What in the gods’ name are you wearing?”
I glanced down at myself, confused. I wore an old threadbare blouse and a pair of breeches that I found a few years back, left behind in the laundry chambers. Granted, the pants had seen better days, but they were perfect for when I was outside. “I was in the gardens.”
An eyebrow rose. “Whose pants are those?”
“I have no idea,” I said, and his lip curled like the idea of wearing someone else’s clothes made him want to vomit. “I . . . I know something that could potentially be a bad thing.”
Claude sighed, removing the cloth. He dropped it on the end table. “Hopefully it’s not more strange, golden fires.”
“You’ve heard?”
“Hymel woke me with the news.” He picked up what I hoped was only a glass of orange juice. “Is it about that?”
“I’m not sure.” I chose my words wisely. “Last night, I came across Finn and Mickie— two of your guards.”
The look on his face told me he had no idea who I was talking about.
“And I learned something about them,” I shared. “They are involved in the shadow market.”
Claude lowered his glass. “In what way?”
“The worst way,” I said. “Harvesting . . . parts for bone magic.”
He stared at me for a moment. “For fuck’s sake, are you sure?”
I stared at him.
“Yes. Of course you are.” He set the glass aside as he dropped his boot to the floor. The dark shirt he wore moved like liquid silk over his shoulders as he dragged a hand through his hair. “Those fires? Hymel said the magistrates had heard from witnesses that the flames were golden.”
“That’s what Grady told me.” My fingers curled along the rim of my hat. “They weren’t successful in their harvesting.”
“I wouldn’t think so based on the charred remains found after the fires were put out,” he remarked, and my stomach soured. “Porter? The owner of the Twin Barrels? He was engaged in this business?”
I nodded. “I don’t know how many are involved, but . . .”
“But at least two of my guards are?” His jaw tightened. “Or were, if they were among the bodies discovered.”
“There was another name that I’ve heard. A Muriel.”
Claude frowned. “Muriel?”
“Yes. I’m not sure who that is.”
He eyed me for a moment, then sat back. A moment passed. “The last thing we need is for Prince Rainer to believe Archwood is a haven for those seeking to use bone magic.”
Prince Rainer oversaw the Court of Primvera. I had never seen the Hyhborn, but Claude said the Prince was a friendly sort. Hopefully he continued to be that way.
“I can try to see if any other guards are involved,” I offered.