Lanre found his grandfather reviewing the castle’s ledger when he entered the King’s library. He watched with an odd mix of sadness and amusement. Aligh nipped bites of his breakfast while he went through the expenses and income of their community. Maya had often offered to take over. Balancing Reiont's books was the queen’s duty after all, but his grandfather refused. He’d kept both the provincial and national ledgers balanced since Hitrata passed. He seemed determined to do so until the end of his reign.

  “I’d forgotten how expensive wedding feasts can be.” Aligh sighed and pushed his glasses up to rub his eyes.

  “You’ve made all the plans,” said Lanre. “Why did you make it so elaborate?”

  Aligh looked up and raised a bushy eyebrow at Lanre. “You are my heir and will soon become king,” he said. “If I cut corners, it would look like I didn’t support you.” He sighed again and slumped back in his chair, rubbing at the back of his neck. “A clear show of support is essential considering you will be the first king who is also one of the talented. With things as they are with your uncle, such is doubly important.”

  “How much damage has the wedding caused the budget?” Lanre asked. He was already uncomfortable with such a large event in his honor. Knowing it caused his grandfather stress made him queasy.

  “We’ll have a few simple meals, and the seamstresses will do more patching than creating this year. But we’ll do fine,” Aligh answered with a wan smile.

  There was a knock at the door. Aligh straightened in his chair and looked back at the books before calling for the person.

  Judge Marx entered. The elderly man wore a plain tunic and trousers instead of his judges' robes and carried a hefty stack of files. “Good morning, Your Majesty. Good morning, Prince Lanre,” he said. Marx pushed his black-rimmed glasses higher on his nose. The lenses magnified his eyes and gave the man a slight buggish look.

  Aligh affected a distracted nod and reached for his coffee. Marx waited for a further response, but Aligh just sipped and set the mug down before making a few notations in the ledger. Marx finally turned his attention to Lanre.

  “I suppose we’re waiting on your witness?”

  “Yes,” answered Lanre. “Chantal and Maya should be on their way.”

  “This secrecy isn’t like your grandfather,” Marx said sotto voice.

  “The timing is unfortunate,” Lanre answered. He dug what little nails he had into his palm to keep from reacting to Aligh’s silent amusement. “With so many arriving for the wedding, gossip is rampant, and Ralic has many supporters in the castle.”

  “Between what was in those papers and Ralic’s history, I can understand your desire for discretion.”

  Lanre nodded. They’d been too trusting, and it looked like the residents of Tembar Flats paid the price. He knew it. Everyone in the room knew it, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit it out loud.

  He felt Maya’s mind touch his, reaching out and soothing his own. She and Chantal were just down the hall. Thoughts of the hearing and his mother’s loss had distracted him since the night before. He must have started broadcasting. Aligh and Marx were deaf to his stray emotions, but Maya sensed them and reacted. He sealed the cracks in his usual shields.

  “Pardon me, Judge Marx,” he said and went to open the door for the girls.

  Maya and Chantal were still a couple of meters from the door when he opened it. Maya merely smiled and bid him a good day, but Chantal stared and regarded him with wide eyes.

  “That’s creepy,” she mumbled. Chantal was radiating nervousness. It was obvious even without his abilities. Her posture was tense, and she seemed unable to prevent herself from wringing her hands.

  Maya took his offered arm, and he could feel her bolstering his shields. As they led Chantal into the room and locked the doors, the tumult of human emotion within the castle ebbed and faded. He covered her hand with his and caught her eye.

  “Thank you,” he mouthed.

  Maya smiled.

  His heart warmed with love and gratitude for her. She was reckless, quick-tempered, and flitted from one notion to another like a sugar-fueled toddler. But Maya understood and cared for him in so many ways. It was the simple things he noticed most, like the way she eased her shielding to his. She'd done so since they'd discovered the change was disorienting to the point of pain if she rushed the process.

  Judge Marx waited with the Bible used for swearing in witnesses. He held it out for Chantal, instructing her to place her left hand on it and to raise her right hand.

  “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” he asked.

  “I do,” Chantal answered.

  “And do you consent to a judicial reading by a court-appointed telepath?” asked Marx.

  “I d-do,” she stammered. She cleared her throat and repeated, “I do.”

  “Thank you,” Marx said and gestured for Chantal to sit in one of the three chairs across from him before sitting.

  Chantal perched on the edge of the chair nearest Aligh’s desk. Lanre looked to his grandfather as he and Maya slid into their seats. Aligh had finally pushed the ledger and his breakfast tray aside and gave his full attention.

  Maya eased back on her shielding, and he focused his senses on his cousin.

  “Your name is Chantal Virchow, daughter of Ralic Virchow?” Marx asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “How did you come about these records?”

  “I ripped them out of Count Ralic’s ledger,” Chantal answered. Her voice cracked.

  Larne saw what must be Ralic’s office and felt a wave of guilt mingled with pride come from Chantal.

  “Why did you do such a thing?” Marx’s voice remained neutral.

  “I’ve always known something wasn’t right about Tembar,” Chantal answered. “But I didn’t know what it was. I never had anything to compare life there to other than the stories in my books and the ones Grandma told me before she passed. Some of the things she told me about my mother and how they’d come to Tembar Proper didn’t match the look in her eyes. People were always nervous, especially when my father, Eugrin, or some of the Beast Guard were around.”

  Lanre saw flashes of an old woman with sad eyes, a middle-aged woman holding a book, and many others. He felt Chantal’s youthful confusion and sense something was wrong. When she talked of Ralic, his face appeared. The image of a younger man who resembled Ralic followed. Then chimeras, both grotesque and beautiful amalgams of human and animalistic features, flashed through his mind. His stomach lurched, and he swallowed several times in succession to hold the nausea at bay.

  “A few months ago, Father asked me to start balancing the ledgers.”

  Marx brought up his hand to interrupt Chantal. “He had you take responsibility for the household and province ledgers?” he asked.

  “No, sir,” Chantal answered. “He still handled both the household and provincial affairs. I just balanced the ledgers every two weeks.”

  “I see,” said Marx. “Please continue.”

  “I knew he was training me to take over the castle’s management, so I paid close attention to what was going where. It was interesting, and I got curious. I looked at the notations in the province ledger while I was balancing it, too. I started noticing things weren’t adding up, even though the books balanced.

  “The mines were costing us in wages, but they brought in no income. There were gibberish notations for considerable sums,” Chantal trailed off, wringing her hands. Lanre saw Ralic’s office, her hands rifling through records and files, and felt her anxiety and fear. “We were hemorrhaging money and hoarding everything the mines produced. The senselessness of it kept me up nights until I felt I must either figure out what was going on, or I’d make myself sick worrying over it. So I went to Father’s office when I knew he wouldn’t be there. I gave the guards the excuse of waiting for him to return and had a look through the records.

  “The gibberish notations were codes given to specific merchants, two midwives, and a host of women.” Chantal continued wringing her hands and began rocking in her chair. “Each woman’s name had another name noted beside it.” She swallowed hard several times. “I recognized many of them as Beast Guard soldiers.

  “When I looked into the mine wage discrepancies, I found that only the soldiers and foremen were paid. The workers were being housed and given rations, but that was it.”

  “So you stole the papers you gave us?” Marx asked.

  “Not that day,” Chantal answered. She dropped her gaze to the floor, and a deep blush colored her face and neck. “I knew what the information implied, but I couldn’t bring myself to believe it.”

  Lanre was overcome with the wave of guilt, familial love, hurt, betrayal, and confusion from Chantal.

  Maya wrapped her hand around his and squeezed.

  “What changed your mind?” asked Marx.

  “I started paying more attention,” Chantal answered. “I began to notice how people’s body language changed when I came into a room. Most fell quiet when Father, Eugrin, or any of the soldiers were around.

  “I watched the pregnant women,” she continued. “In my books, women with child and their husbands are always proud and excited to meet their babies. The few families I saw who were expecting seemed nervous and sad.

  “Then there was the day the dragon was brought in,” Chantal said.

  “When was this?”

  “April 8,” she answered.

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  “Of 3122?” Marx asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Tell us about that day.”

  “It seemed like any other,” Chantal said. “The only odd thing was that a group of soldiers and Beast Guard went out to patrol early that morning in the middle of a blizzard. I met with Gresha for my lessons after breakfast as usual.

  “There was a commotion in the courtyard midmorning, and we went to the window.” Chantal sighed. “The soldiers were chaining down a big, black dragon. He was lying very still and staring at a blond woman held by one of the guards, and another woman stood behind them.”

  As she spoke, Lanre saw what she’d seen. He couldn’t see either of the women’s faces, but he recognized Borcon. From what he could see of them, the women had to be his mother, and her handmaid, Brihanni. He squeezed Maya’s hand, dread coiling in his gut at the thought of what else he might see through his cousin’s eyes.

  “Gresha said we were wasting time and pulled me away from the window just before the dragon started howling.”

  “Did you see any of them again?” Marx asked.

  “An addition to the Yekaran apartments was built around him, but we heard him often,” Chantal explained. “I did see a woman I’d never seen about the castle before who could have been the second woman coming out of Father’s office once, but I’m not sure.”

  “Can you describe her?”

  “She was about my height and must have been about the same age as Father,” Chantal answered. “Her hair was dark with streaks of gray, and her eyes…” She stumbled for words, unable to think of how to describe the woman’s eye color.

  “It was Brihanni Marx,” Lanre interjected.

  He felt Chantal jump beside him, and Marx asked if he was certain.

  “Chantal has a clear picture of her in her mind,” Lanre answered. “Those amber eyes of hers are hard to mistake.”

  The room was silent. Maya eased her supplemental shields a bit higher, and Lanre was thankful. His emotions were roiling, but it was his continued connection to Chantal he found most disturbing. He saw himself through her eyes.

  The visual he received from her was almost like looking at a portrait of himself beside Maya with Aligh in the background. The fear and distrust mingled with a desperate desire to believe in him, to feel safe around these strangers, tore at his heart.

  “That was when you decided to take the papers and come to Reiont?” Marx finally asked.

  “No, but it led me to that moment,” Chantal answered. “After hours of the Yekaran roaring and keening, I went to the library to search out what would make one act that way. I searched for weeks, but I didn’t find much. Given the fact I’d only seen one of the women in all that time, I began to suspect she was either locked away or killed.

  “I wasn’t sure what to do or who I could talk to,” she continued. “I’d found proof Father was enslaving people and stealing babies. And somehow those babies became beasts. Then there was that woman. I didn’t want to believe it, but if it was true, I couldn’t just keep quiet and let it continue.

  “So I studied the maps in the library, looking for a way I might be able to sneak out of Tembar and come to Reiont for help.” She paused, breathing deeply. Lanre could feel her dread growing as well as her attempts to push it back. “When I was sure I’d be able to navigate the catacombs without getting lost, I decided to take a trial run to see if I could even get into them.

  “I took one of the maid’s dresses and cloaks from the washroom, and I wore it to hide my distinctive coloring. I kept the hood up and my eyes down. I passed a few, but none stopped me.

  “Not long after I’d entered the catacombs, I heard infants crying.” Chantal’s voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “Light spilled from a doorway ahead of me, so I decided to see if I could help.

  “Father was in the room along with five babies in cots. He was injecting one of the younger ones with something.”

  Lanre looked over at Chantal. She was trembling, and unshed tears gathered in her eyes.

  “Every child cries when they’re given an immunization. I know that, but this was different,” she insisted. “Its cries got louder after he pulled away instead of calming, and the baby bowed up in agony.”

  Lanre’s stomach turned as he watched the scene through Chantal’s eyes. The cries were so loud! His heart ached to reach out through the past and comfort the hurting child.

  “I noticed the other babies when he turned back toward his worktable,” Chantal continued. “The youngest of the two looked normal if unhappy, but the middle babe was starting to grow gray fur.” She choked back a sob but kept going. “The oldest two might have been twins,” she said. “They looked similar and about the same age. I’d guess six or seven months old. They were covered in scales, and their legs were growing together!”

  Lanre saw what she couldn’t describe. The pair were nude. Their legs were knit together down to the knees, making diapering impossible. What little hair they had on their heads was clumpy like it was falling out in uneven patches. Bright scales covered most of their bodies.

  “Their faces were deformed,” Chantal continued. “They’d elongated, and they didn’t have ears.

  “They looked a lot like a Beast Guard soldier I saw once slithering toward Father’s office late one evening.”

  “When you say slithering…” Marx asked.

  “I mean moving along on a serpentine tail,” Chantal answered. “It was like a serpent the size of a man and with a man’s shoulders and arms.”

  Marx looked at Lanre with eyebrows raised in inquiry. Lanre nodded, unable to trust his voice at the moment.

  “God preserve us!” Marx mumbled. “Please continue.”

  “A door within the room opened,” Chantal continued. The tears she’d been holding back began to fall. Her voice wavered, but she continued. “I heard a woman screaming and crying in the other room. I couldn’t make out what she was saying beyond ‘no’ and ‘please.’ A midwife came in carrying a bundle she passed to Father. He looked it over and nodded to her, and she put it in one of the empty beds.” She took a shuddering breath before continuing. "It wasn't until she left that I even registered it wasn't just a bundle. It was a newborn child ripped from its mother before she could even hold it!"

  Chantal broke down into sobs, and Lanre stood.

  “Excuse me for a moment, please,” he said and hurried through the door to Aligh’s chambers without waiting for an answer. He barely made it to the washroom before retching. He washed his face with shaking hands and stood leaning against the wall, trying to regain his composure.

  What had Ralic done? He remembered stories Aligh and Kalie told him of his uncle over the years. How had one with so much promise sunk to such lows? How did he justify torturing infants, enslaving people, and having his sister-in-law murdered? What had he become?

  They’d allowed this to happen!

  Lanre lurched forward and retched again. He propped his elbows and rested his head in his hands. They’d allowed horrors to go unchecked in Tembar for years because they’d trusted Ralic. What other evils had his uncle committed, and what would the fallout of their complacency be?

  “Pull yourself together,” he hissed to himself. “You’re doing no one any good in here.”

  He cleaned up again and straightened his clothes before returning to the library. Chantal was hiccupping and dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. Maya had moved to the chair he’d occupied and was rubbing soothing circles on Chantal’s back, murmuring to her.

  “I beg your pardon for the interruption,” Lanre said.

  “Think nothing of it, Lanre,” said Aligh. “I think we all needed a moment.” He nodded toward where Maya was still comforting Chantal.

  Judge Marx joined the other two men and inquired about the validity of Chantal’s testimony in hushed tones.

  “She’s being completely honest,” Lanre confirmed. “She has no shields at all.” He rubbed his eyes. The day was still young, yet exhaustion pulled at him. An ache was developing behind his eyes, and he knew it’d likely become a blistering headache before the afternoon rest. “I saw everything she did.”

  “My dear boy,” Aligh said. He laid a trembling, withered hand over Lanre’s. “Should we call another telepath?”

  “No,” Lanre answered. “I said I would do this, and I will. Besides, I have Maya to bolster my shields. Few of the others are so lucky.”

  Maya cleared her throat, drawing the men’s attention. Chantal worried the damp cloth in her hands, but she’d stopped crying.

  “I apologize,” she said. “I’m ready to start again.”

  “We understand, Lady Virchow,” said Marx. “No need to apologize.”

  They all returned to their seats, and Lanre reached for Maya’s hand. She squeezed his hand in reassurance as Marx shuffled through the notes he’d been adding to the case file as Chantal spoke.

  “What happened after your realization about the newborn?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” Chantal admitted. “I ran back to my room.

  “After what I’d seen, I couldn’t delay any longer,” she explained. “The next morning was gorgeous, and it’d been raining for days. So I had the cooks make up a picnic lunch and went to Father’s office with the excuse of wanting to eat lunch with him outside. He’s rarely in his office on nice days this time of year, so the chance he'd be there was low. I took as many of the pertinent pages as I could before he caught me.”

  “He caught you?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Chantal. She blushed. “I heard him speaking with Eugrin. I just managed to cram them in my pocket and return the books before they walked in. That’s why they’re so crumpled and torn.” Chantal grimaced.

  “They were distracted enough by their conversation to accept my excuse at face value and send me to my room. I left that night.”

  “You didn’t make another trial run?”

  “I didn’t want to chance it at that point,” Chantal answered.

  “Thank you, Lady Virchow,” said Judge Marx. “I have more than enough.” He flipped to the back of the file folder and began writing.

  Lanre sighed as Maya raised the shields she shared with him, closing his mind to all but the faintest traces from the others in the room. The ache behind his eyes eased, and he felt like he could breathe again. He stroked her hand with his thumb and leaned over to whisper, “Thank you,” in her ear.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “No,” he answered. “I feel like there’s a storm coming and all the Weather Watchers are gone.”

  “I’m here.”

  Lanre grinned. “Yes, you are.”

  Marx stood, and everyone turned their attention to him. He placed the papers he’d been writing out on Aligh’s desk.

  “You have search warrants for Tembar Castle, the lands, and mines. I'll also issue a warrant for Count Ralic Virchow’s arrest on charges of slavery, human trafficking, human experimentation, and genetic manipulation.”

  “Thank you, Judge Marx,” Aligh answered. “I trust you will keep this information confidential until the arrest is made?”

  “Of course, Your Majesty,” Marx agreed. “I brought these others to hide Ralic’s file, but they require your attention.” He handed the king the other files.

  “Thank you,” Aligh said as he accepted them. “You’re free to go.”

  Marx nodded, bid farewell to them all, and left. Aligh sagged back into his chair once the heavy door closed behind Marx.

  “I’ve been such a fool,” he groaned.

  “We all wanted to believe in him,” Lanre said. “If you’re at fault for what has happened, so are we.”

  Aligh scrubbed his hands over his face. “Wallowing in guilt accomplishes nothing,” he growled. “We must move forward.

  “Maya, Tricon sent word he needed to speak with you and Chantal once the hearing finished,” Aligh said.

  With her hand still in his, Lanre couldn’t miss the trepidation Aligh’s statement caused her.

  “Thank you, Sire,” she said and stood to curtsy. Chantal followed her example and allowed Maya to lead her out of the room.

  “We must find a Regent for Tembar Flats until Chantal finishes her education and comes of age,” Aligh said. He leaned forward onto his elbows and rested his chin on his joined hands, which was his habit when deep in thought. “For stability’s sake, it would be best if he were a suitable match for Chantal as well.”

  “For goodness' sake, Grandfather!” Lanre exclaimed. “We just met her yesterday. We barely know the girl.” He ran his hands through his hair, tugging a bit on the strands. “How can we determine a suitable match for her?”

  “You’ve spent the morning reading her,” Aligh answered. “I understand it was a low-level scan, but you said she had no shielding. I think you’ll find you know her better than you believe.”

  “You want me to play matchmaker?”

  “Don’t sound so surprised, Lanre.” Aligh chuckled. “You will have to do the same for your children someday. Ralic isn’t in a position to negotiate a betrothal for her. A conviction will negate any he’s already established in any case.”

  “Why don’t you do it then?” Lanre asked. The ache had grown to a throbbing that darkened his vision in time with his heart, which felt like it was trying to beat a hole in his chest. “You make good matches!”

  “Thank you,” Aligh answered with a nod. “But as you say, we only met Chantal yesterday, and I don’t have the same shortcuts afforded to me.”

  “But,” Lanre started but fell silent. His mouth opened and closed as he tried to find a suitable excuse.

  “Search the bloodlines,” Aligh suggested. “Find several young men, of age but no older than twenty-seven, who are of high enough rank to be accepted as Regent of Tembar. Eliminate any whose lines and ours have crossed within the last six generations. Narrow it down to three, the further back any crossings in the lines the better, then come back and discuss the matter with me.”

  Lanre nodded.

  “Good,” said Aligh. “On your way out, have word sent to Major Lasiter to come speak with me immediately.”

  “Yes, Grandfather,” Lanre agreed.