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see them now! I
need
to see them now!”

    The quieter voice spoke again.

    The mot snapped, “These people serve the law. I don’t think I need a chaperone in their company!”

    We all stepped back hurriedly as the door opened. A lovely, delicate mot came in and closed the door behind her. She had masses of brown curls that hung down to her waist. A few jeweled pins hung from them. Her maids were lax, letting her go about with her hair undone like that. She had large, golden brown eyes, a delicate nose, a soft mouth, and perfect skin. Her under tunic was white linen so fine it was almost sheer, her over tunic a light shade of amber with gold threads shot through it. Strips of gold embroidery were sewn to the front and the left side of the tunic, vines twining around signs for peace and fertility. Golden pearls hung from her ears, around her neck and wrists, and in a belt with a picture locket at the hanging end. Pearls were sewn to her gold slippers. Gold rings with emeralds and pearls were on her fingers, save for the heavy plain gold band on the ring finger of her left hand.

    I write all this, remembering her beauty purely, though she was smutched with soot from top to toe. Even her face and hands were marked.

    Tunstall had seen her before this at a closer distance than I, but we all guessed her identity. We were kneeling before the door was closed. “Your Majesty,” the coves said. My throat would not work.

    “Oh, please, please, get up,” she said, her voice softer now. “I can’t stand ceremony at a time like this. Please. Look, I’m sitting down.” It was true, she’d settled in one of the chairs. A smile flitted on and off her mouth, which trembled whatever she did.

    Pounce walked over and jumped into her lap. The queen flinched and then stroked him. I’d been about to call him back, but I waited, watching. Pounce turned around and coiled himself, not letting her see his strange eyes. As she petted him her shoulders and back straightened. Her trembling eased. “I’d thought all the animals had fled, or been …” She looked down for a moment, then turned her gaze to Achoo. “A scent hound? Is he yours?”

    I looked at the men, but they, great loobies that they were, stood there dumbstruck. Tunstall flapped his hand at me. He wanted
me
to talk to Her Majesty! But one of us had to, and Achoo was staring at me with pleading eyes, her tail wagging.
She
knew the pretty lady wanted to admire her.

    “
Pengantar
, Achoo,” I said. I turned to Her Majesty, without rising from my knees. From talking to folk who’d been broken by something terrible, I knew I would be more of a comfort to her if I sat below her eye level. Having Achoo come over made it reasonable for me to stay where I was. As the queen offered her hand for Achoo to smell, I explained quietly, “Achoo’s a female, Your Majesty. We’ve been partners three years now.”

    The queen looked at me, and at the men. “Partners?”

    I pointed to Tunstall, then at my uniform. “Achoo, Tunstall, and me, we belong to the Provost’s Guard. Senior Guardsman Matthias Tunstall, I should say. I’m Guardswoman Rebakah Cooper. And this is Master—”

    He bowed. “Farmer Cape. I am a Provost’s mage from Blue Harbor.”

    The queen frowned. “Surely we need a court mage for this?” she whispered. “I know His Majesty and the Chancellor of Mages fight over the plan to tax mages, but surely at a time like this, duty to the realm is more important.” She looked at Master Farmer. “I mean no offense, but I am used to depend on court mages.”

    I thought Master Farmer would take offense, having known too many prickly mages, but instead he only smiled at the queen. “Court mages are all very well, Your Majesty, but they do not often work in the cities and the wilderness. I have done both, as Lord Gershom knows. And he may well replace me with a court mage. I imagine he would like more information before he makes such decisions.”

    “That