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Lachlan considered him thoughtfully. “Not even if he failed to safely maintain his property?”

Heath gave his cousin a look. “I don’t believe that was the case.” He narrowed his eyes. “What’s behind these questions? I thought we were being direct with each other now.”

With a sigh, Lachlan leaned back in his chair. “We are. Which is why I called you here to tell you that I examined the site myself, and I am almost certain that the building was intentionally sabotaged.”

Heath gave no reaction.

“You’re not surprised?” his cousin pressed.

Heath raised his hands helplessly. “What is there to say? It was already an outrageous coincidence for a runaway horse to be set loose just as an awning fell, right under a stone chimney ready to dramatically collapse.”

“And that’s without even mentioning that the person passing underneath at the time is at the heart of a tense and controversial dispute between two highly influential groups within our court,” the prince added heavily.

Heath couldn’t help a dry chuckle. “It’s generous of you to put me at the center of anything, I think.”

“No, it’s not,” said Lachlan absently. “You’re absolutely at the heart of all of this, as everyone but you can see.” He sighed. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am that this happened to you.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” said Heath lightly.

Lachlan didn’t respond, his eyes drifting to the window, then back to Heath’s face. “I regret to say that my father wasn’t persuaded by my conclusion that the chimney had been tampered with.”

Heath raised an eyebrow. King Matlock was really going to pretend to believe it was an honest accident? Surely someone as sensible as the king couldn’t actually want his head to be buried so far in the sand.

“There’s another reason I suspect it was no accident,” Heath said abruptly. “Although I don’t advise you to use it to attempt to convince your father.”

Lachlan inclined his head expectantly.

“I felt it again,” Heath blurted out. “The…magic. Or whatever it was I sensed from the men who attacked Percival.”

“What?” Lachlan was suddenly ramrod straight in his chair. “You think the same people behind that attack were responsible for trying to kill you?”

Heath shrugged. “I don’t know what to think. It doesn’t make sense to me. There was no way to link the incident to the crown, so no reason to think it would benefit someone trying to stir up trouble.” His voice turned dry. “And from what I can tell, I haven’t achieved anything in my liaison role which would make me either a risk or an asset to anyone.”

“That’s not true,” frowned the prince. He spoke not as if he was trying to make Heath feel better, but as if he was giving genuine consideration to Heath’s contribution. “But if the motivation behind the attacks relates to the conflict between power-wielders and the crown, it’s hard to see how you could be considered a similar target to your brother.”

“It doesn’t fit with the profile of Kyonans trying to make trouble, does it?” Heath said, with a hint of relief.

“Not at all,” Lachlan agreed. He hesitated. “I spoke with my father about that. I didn’t mention what you said about magic. I just asked him if he thought it possible that Kyonans could have been involved in the attack on Lord Percival.”

“And?” Heath asked.

Lachlan shook his head slowly. “He seemed to take the idea seriously. But when I asked him a few days later whether he’d thought more about it, he seemed very convinced that Kyona had nothing to do with it.”

Heath frowned. He was relieved by the king’s conclusion, but puzzled as to how he’d gotten there.

“What did he see, or who did he speak to, in those intervening days?” he mused.

“Any number of people,” said the prince heavily. “I have no idea what made him so certain.”

For a moment there was silence, neither of them having any answers to offer.

“The Winter Solstice Festival is approaching rapidly,” Lachlan said.

Heath nodded, surprised by the change of topic. Something in the prince’s demeanor gave him the sense of something more meaningful under the surface of the light comment. Reaching out with his developing magic, he encountered a confusing tangle of emotions within his cousin. A desire for answers mingled with fear of what he might learn. Suspicions undermined by the hope that they’d be proved wrong.

It wasn’t enough information for him to know what was coming. Only Lachlan could reveal that. Heath waited in silence.

“I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that it was a bit of a disaster last year.”


Tags: Deborah Grace White The Vazula Chronicles Fantasy