Falcon’s talons clicked on stone as he stalked toward his office. He'd heard Valiance and Snow had returned empty-handed and missing the rat just after dawn. He was anxious to hear their report and dreaded it.

  He kept his office pristine, so the reports tossed on the desk stood out in stark contrast to the dark wood. He found it unsurprising Valiance had dumped a written report on his desk and slithered off to sleep. He hadn’t expected such behavior from Snow. She was usually the model of a perfect soldier.

  Falcon snatched up the reports and read through them. The screech of talons scraped across stone filled the air. He’d sink them deep into their hides for this if he survived. How was he supposed to take this news to Ralic?

  Still, a delay would only increase the Count’s ire, so he filed the reports and set out for Ralic’s study. The castle halls were bustling this time of morning as the shifts changed. One good thing about being a member of the Beast Guard, and a commander, was servants cleared your path. The past few days since Ralic’s girl ran off, he would have given up the privilege to have a delay in reporting to the temperamental man.

  “Excuse me, Commander Falcon,” a stammering voice sounded just behind him. Falcon turned to find a scrawny pageboy looking up at him.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you on your way to report to Count Ralic?” the boy asked. He swallowed hard, and the envelope he held shook.

  “Yes.”

  “This just arrived for him,” he said as he offered Falcon the envelope. “Would you take it to him?”

  Falcon’s feathers ruffled involuntarily at the boy’s audacity. They caught and bunched against the fabric of his uniform, causing his quills to jab him. The discomfort and knowledge he’d be stuck with it until he could change out of his clothes served to irritate him further.

  “Why should I do your job, boy?” he snapped.

  The page shrank back and trembled as he stammered out, “I’ve a weak stomach, sir.” He grimaced and clutched his abdomen. “I was told to get the message to Count Ralic right away, sir, but I really need to find a lavatory.”

  Falcon opened his beak to deride the boy for making excuses when he noticed a foul odor. The boy continued to hold his stomach and grimace, half writhing in the hallway.

  “Fine,” Falcon said as he snatched the envelope. “Get yourself to a healer.”

  “Yes, sir,” he groaned and took off in an odd run for the nearest toilet.

  Falcon studied the seal as he continued toward Ralic’s study. It wasn’t one he’d seen before, but it wasn’t as if he received mail. None outside Tembar Flats knew he existed other than Ralic’s daughter. He hoped the missive was good enough news to temper Ralic’s reaction to the news he bore.

  As he neared the study, Falcon pulled at his clothes, trying to settle his feathers back into place. He succeeded only in irritating his skin further. Falcon was certain he’d broken the spines of half the feathers under his collar. It left him feeling itchy and half-strangled. He pulled his collar and freed several of the broken tips.

  Falcon hissed as he curled his fingers around the bits of dusky feathers and shoved them into his pocket. What a waste! As proud as he might be of his position, Falcon never understood Ralic’s insistence on uniforms for the Beast Guard. They had no practical need for clothing. It was uncomfortable and hampered their movement. Did Ralic not see the stupidity in labeling beings outlawed by the nature of their creation as belonging to Tembar?

  Ralic’s door loomed in front of Falcon. He tugged at his coat one last time and rustled his wings as he gathered the courage to knock.

  “Enter,” Ralic called.

  Falcon pushed the door open. Ralic was studying documents scattered about his desk and scribbling in a tattered notebook. His breakfast tray had been pushed aside, looking untouched. His clothes were unkempt, and his eyes were sunken and red. Falcon’s heart sped, and he swallowed down a lump forming in his throat. It was obvious Ralic hadn’t slept much, if at all, and judging by the way he was writing, another of the man’s manic episodes was beginning.

  “What is it?” Ralic asked without looking away from his work.

  “A letter arrived for you, my lord.”

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  “A letter?” Ralic looked at the envelope Falcon held. Ralic’s complexion was waxy with lack of sleep, and it lent a demented air to the grin that spread on his face. “How unexpected.” He took the envelope and examined the seal.

  “I was sure I would see my daughter with you this morning,” he said. Ralic’s silver letter opener cut through the envelope with a rasp. “Where is she?”

  “They suspect she made it to Reiont Castle, my lord,” Falcon answered. His heart pounded in his ears as he watched the sharp bit of metal in his master’s hand. Ralic looked up from the envelope and regarded Falcon with bloodshot eyes. The hand clutching the letter opener tightened until the knuckles shone white, and Ralic’s jaw clenched.

  “Jadrick went ahead for confirmation.” Falcon’s voice wavered, and he stumbled over the words. Ralic placed the envelope and letter opener on the desk, leaned forward, and rested his chin on clasped hands.

  “What exactly did your men find?”

  “Her trail crossed with another’s to the north,” Falcon answered. He fought the urge to stretch his wings and fluff his feathers in response to Ralic’s stare. “Both led toward Reiont, but the party encountered a sandstorm before they followed the trail to its end.”

  “Such a pity,” Ralic said. An invisible force caught Falcon’s hand, crushing it as it twisted up and around. He cried out as pain shot up through his arm so intensely it forced him to his knees. “I had such high hopes for you, Falcon, but you continue to fail me.” Ralic’s voice was soft and calm, and it filled Falcon with a cold dread the man’s rage couldn’t elicit.

  Ralic stood and stepped from behind the desk before stalking around Falcon. The force gripping Falcon’s hand gave another twist, and the bones snapped with a sickening crunch. Falcon screamed in agony, but he didn’t dare plead for mercy. He learned better the day Brance was in his position.

  “You’re lucky I don’t have the time to break in a new commander,” Ralic mused. He was smirking when he entered Falcon’s line of vision. He leaned in and whispered, “Say thank you.”

  “T-thank you,” Falcon whimpered.

  Ralic chuckled as he turned his back on Falcon and sauntered back to the desk. The invisible grip around Falcon's arm finally released, and the useless limb fell to his side, jarring against his leg. He yelped.

  “I expect you’ll come up with a fitting punishment for your men,” Ralic said as he slid back into his desk chair and picked up the envelope. “Inform me the moment Jadrick returns.” The parchment crinkled as Ralic opened the letter.

  “Yes, Sir.” Falcon rose to his feet. Pain seared through his arm with every movement, and his breathing was ragged. Oh yes, Snow and Valiance would pay.

  Ralic glanced up from the paper and regarded Falcon with a sneer. “Go on then,” he growled.

  Ralic turned the parchment with restless hands as he waited for his useless commander to leave. What could his old friend have written to him about after years of silence? He doubted the timing of Zalier’s letter was a coincidence. The door clicked shut, and Ralic settled into his desk chair before reading the letter.

  “My dear friend,” he read and scoffed. Such a dear friend to write once a decade. “I cannot express my surprise at meeting your lovely daughter, Chantal, this evening. Lanre introduced her at supper, and I must say, she’s been the talk of the castle.” Ralic clenched his jaw to keep from rending the letter. So, she not only made it to Reiont; she managed to prove her lineage and ingratiated herself to Aligh and Lanre in a few hours. “I wonder how she did that,” Ralic thought with a snort before reading further.

  “Was it your intention to make her the talk of Reiont, sending her here alone and completely unknown? You know how the gossips love a mystery, and no one seems to know how she got into the castle. How did you manage it?”

  “The catacombs!” Ralic exclaimed. “I wonder if Father ever thought to change them.” He smirked, turning over contingency plans in his mind as he returned to the letter.

  “I am shocked and saddened to hear of your failing health, my friend.”

  “Failing health?” Ralic drew back in insulted confusion and searched his memory. “What would have given him that idea?” He remembered the excuse he’d tossed Maya and chuckled. “What a clever village girl you found, Father,” he sneered and began reading again.

  “Your father’s health has taken a turn for the worse as well, I’m afraid. I fear we will soon be obliged to bend the knee to Lanre. I trust you remember my views on the matter, as well as those on your removal from the line.”

  “Oh yes.” Ralic rolled his eyes. “Your support in strongly worded letters meant ever so much.”

  “I have hope Lady Virchow’s arrival in Reiont after so long without word from you signals a mending between you and your father. Am I right in this, my friend?”

  “What are you getting at, Zalier?”

  “If there is anything I might do to aid you in a return to court, please do not hesitate to ask, my friend.”

  Ralic smirked. “If only you knew I’m no longer a norm, my poor deluded fellow,” he thought. “I will not disabuse you of the notion if you’re willing to support my rise to the throne. I’ll save that for entertainment at my coronation.”

  “I hope to hear from you soon. Your loyal servant, Zalier Lane.”

  Ralic smoothed the letter onto his desk before leaning back into a languid stretch and laughing. His idiot daughter set out to turn him in and practically handed him the crown instead.