Mally stepped into a large sitting room with an enormous claw-footed desk. Behind this desk sat square-jawed, gray-haired, Illius Molick.

Molick glowered at her, his dark eyes raking her form. He seemed to sit in his chair like a bullfrog, his large, muscled arms hunched forward menacingly.

“I have been informed of your presence in my castle.”

My castle? Meriyal hadn’t been exaggerating. Mally wondered if Molick was this bold around the king. Then again, perhaps he didn’t need to be. Mally didn’t have any doubt that this man could quite easily be controlling the country.

“Yes sir.”

Molick leaned back in his chair, his large, sausage-like fingers intertwined on his stomach.

“You are from Halspeare?” he demanded.

“Yes sir.”

Molick nodded and smiled. Mally tried not to grimace at the sight of it.

“Orphan?” he barked, making Mally jerk.

She nodded, trying to keep the heat from her cheeks. He must have questioned Meriyal.

“Which one?” he sneered.

“Corral and Chestnut, sir,” Mally answered promptly.

Instead of saying anything, Molick scribbled something down on a piece of paper.

Mally’s heart jumped into her throat. If Molick wrote to Corral and Chestnut, he would discover that there had never been a girl named Mally Biddle present there. Then what would she do? He would find out she had lied to get into the castle and where would that lead?

While Mally was silently reeling, Molick poured himself a large glass of brandy, as if taking his time to savor the effect his actions had had. He swirled the glass, eyeing Mally contentedly, like a swollen spider eyeing his next meal. At Mally’s continued silence, Molick’s eyes hardened. He leaned forward so swiftly that for a moment Mally’s frantic brain was sure he would leap over his desk and strike her.

“Are you aware of a barbarous rebel force in this city?” he asked.

Mally’s heart stopped and she hesitated before answering.

“I’ve only heard rumors, Sir Illius.”

Molick eyed her.

“And of course, you would not be lying. I do not like liars in my castle.”

“This is my first time in the city,” said Mally, her heart pounding so loudly that she was sure Molick would hear it. “I assure you, I know nothing about these rebels.” Then she added with a burst of inspiration, “And if I did, I would have nothing to do with them.”

Molick’s eyes narrowed and his ugly, wide mouth twitched into a grin.

“And the passages? Only rumors, as well?”

Mally stared at him. What was she supposed to say to that? Deny the fact that they existed? Of course he knew they existed! Why hadn’t Meriyal told her what to say? In her panic, she said what popped into her head.

“Forgive me, Sir Illius, but what use are the servants’ passages to the Captain of the Knights?”

For a full second, Mally was positive she would be hit. Molicks’ face colored like a blotchy beet. His jaws tightened so much his lips turned white. His narrowed eyes were no more than angry slits.

“You may leave,” he ordered in a low voice.

Mally nearly tripped in her haste to curtsy and run to the door simultaneously. Meriyal was upon her the moment she had closed his door.

“Well?” she breathed.

Mally shook her head, still numb and trembling.

“I didn’t tell him anything,” she whispered. She was out of breath—as if she had run a race.

“Good girl!” said Meriyal, but her face was taunt with tension. “Come, we need to clean out some fireplaces.”

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By that evening, Mally was so exhausted and nervous that all she wanted was to curl up on her bed, but she and Lita had agreed to blow out the candles on the first floor as Mildred, who typically did that floor, had a nasty cough and needed the rest. So, at ten till eight, Mally and Lita left Gerda in their chamber and made their way to the first floor. Dinner was finished and by the time they had reached the great hall, it was deserted of knights.

But when Mally had reached the last step of the staircase, Lita halted and cursed under her breath.

“What is it?” asked Mally.

Lita was fumbling in her pockets.

“Did you get the tall snuffer?” she asked.

Mally pulled out the short, silver snuffer Mildred had passed to her at dinner.

“No,” she said. “I thought you were getting it.”

Lita cursed again.

“I’ll get it. Start extinguishing the ones you can get to. I’ll be right back.”

Mally watched her scurry back up the long staircase. Upon turning to the great hall, Mally’s first thought was that they wouldn’t need the tall snuffer as some candles were already blown out, leaving the huge room shadowy and cold. A banging and rattling from a dark corner drew her attention and upon inspection, she found an open window: the reason for the cold and lack of candlelight. The wind hadn’t stopped since she’d been out picking hunter’s horn. It must have intensified and forced the unlatched window open. Each time the wind whistled past, the window banged fiercely against the stone wall. Mally shut and latched it, rubbing her arms as she gazed out into the wild night.

A hand gripped her shoulder and jerked her around. Something hard hit the side of her face, making her stumble. She blinked as stars erupted before her eyes. She was hit again and fell against a tall candelabra—she felt a horrible searing in her shoulder. The candelabra smashed onto the floor and candlesticks cascaded on top of her. She tried to rise from the floor, still trying to steady her sight. It came back just in time to see a large booted foot fly through the air to smash into her side.

“Think you’re the same as us?” said a harsh voice somewhere above her. Even though her head was reeling with pain, Mally knew who it was.

“No, you think you’re better,” Bayard sneered, answering his own question. “I’ve been wanting to knock some proper respect into you.” He kicked her again. “You’re not worth the grime you wipe away,” he spat venomously.

“Who’s there?”

Mally was dazed with pain.

“Who’s … Mally! Are you all right?”

Mally groaned, her eyes squeezed shut. Nathan had joined them.

“Tripped,” Bayard explained pleasantly from somewhere above Mally. “Shouldn’t be so klutzy, should she? Could get hurt falling over things.” Bayard chuckled again and Mally heard his footsteps casually retreating.

“Bastard,” Nathan cursed under his breath and Mally moaned again. There was another inaudible curse above her and a frantic shuffling as Nathan crouched down beside her. Gently, he half pulled her into a sitting position.

Mally blinked her eyes and Nathan’s face swam into focus.

“You’re bleeding,” said Nathan tersely. “I’ll get you to Rosa—she’s closer.” He tried to lift Mally to her feet but Mally gasped and gripped her side.

“Easy! Easy! Come on now, lean on me. There you go.” Mally leaned heavily on Nathan as they slowly walked across the great hall to the kitchen. “You’ll be fine. We’ll have Rosa look you over. You’ll be all right, Mally. You’ll be all right.”

Mally’s eyesight was still blurred. Her side felt like it had been rammed, her cheek throbbed, and her shoulder stung. She was only half aware that they had reached the kitchen door, but the shriek that followed made fresh stars burst before her eyes.

“Mally! Oh—Nathan, what happened?”

Nathan helped her into a chair as he explained to Archie and Rosa what he thought had transpired. Mally was grateful. Her eyesight was finally returning and her head had stopped spinning—but the pain in her cheek, shoulder and side seemed to double.

“That bastard,” Archie spat as Rosa dabbed Mally’s cheek with a damp cloth. “He only has enough guts to fight when his target’s alone and unsuspecting! He should be locked up!”

“Lenzar’s been turned upside down,” said Nathan heatedly. “The innocent are in the dungeons while the criminals are running free.”

“I think you’ll be okay,” said Rosa, worry all over her face. “Some bad bruises … but your shoulder—I’ll need to clean that—”

She rose and hurried to a cabinet before rolling up Mally’s sleeve. Mally gritted her teeth as Rosa cleaned the cut on her right shoulder, which must have come from the sharp metal work of the candelabra.

“You’ll be all right,” said Rosa soothingly. “This cut isn’t deep.”

“Rosa’s right. It could have been much worse,” Nathan agreed grimly.

“There, much better,” said Rosa, having finished bandaging the wound.

“Thanks …” said Mally. She felt ashamed … weak. People had been warning her something like this could happen. Ivan, Galen, her mother, Meriyal … they had all given her hints without saying what they feared would happen. She had angered Bayard and he had finally found his revenge. Mally wondered grimly if this attack had been enough to satisfy him.

Some of the bitter thoughts in her brain must have shown on her face for Rosa suddenly said, “Some rest is what you need. I’ll make you some deep sleep tea.”

Mally didn’t have the strength to argue. Pleased, Rosa put a kettle of water on the fire and bustled about pulling out jars of herbs and flowers from cabinets.

Mally couldn’t bring herself to look at Nathan or Archie. Instead, she stared at her knees.

“Here you are.”

Rosa handed Mally a cup of heavily scented tea.

“You should probably drink it when you get to your room,” Rosa advised. “It’s fast acting. Nathan can take you.”

Mally thanked them again and rose shakily. Nathan quickly wound his arm around her as she hobbled from the room.

They walked all the way to the corridor of ugly oil paintings without saying a word and when they finally reached the corridor Mally quietly murmured her thanks again before disappearing into her chamber.

Mally was surprised to see that Lita was not in bed. Where had she gone to? She should have been back with the snuffer long ago. But Mally was too tired to go in search of her. She inched into the bedroom, tiptoeing past a sleeping Gerda, and downed her tea. It was richly flavored and dried her mouth, but in seconds, she was fast asleep.