If King Salir was surprised by her appearance, he didn’t show it. In fact, his laid back countenance made Mally wonder if he had been expecting her all along. He smiled happily at her and twirled his glass.

“May I offer you a drink?”

“No thank you, Your Highness.”

King Salir shrugged his shoulders, leaned forward, and refilled his glass from the wine decanter on the table. He paused as a bell tolled in the distance. Mally froze. King Salir frowned and glanced to his right where a large clock hung up on the wall.

“Peculiar,” he said.

Mally could clearly see the face of the clock. Its hands rested at eleven-fifty. She tried to keep her face calm as her body tensed. They had taken over the tower. They had sent the message. Daniel and Allen would be leading the charge down the underground tunnel to the cellar. People all over the city would be rising into action, flooding the silent streets. Mally couldn’t help herself. She risked a glance out of one of the tall, arched windows, but she couldn’t make out the city. The moon was not in the sky.

King Salir seemed to have shrugged off the odd timing of the Bell Tower’s chime and turned back to Mally. He continued as if there had been no interruption.

“I think I can guess the reason for your late night visit.”

Mally stared at him. Of course he knew what Molick knew: she was a rebel. Maybe he thought she was here to try to capture him.

“Though I must say, I find it odd that you are alone,” the king continued pleasantly.

It suddenly struck Mally how strange it was to be standing in this quiet room when she knew a horrendous battle must be raging throughout the castle. Bayard had alerted the knights and Mally was tensed for the giant BOOM of the castle’s front doors banging open, even though she knew she wouldn’t hear it so far up in the castle. The king acted like there was nothing special about tonight. Tonight was just another night. As if he often expected visits from rebel members in his chamber.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, but we don’t have much time,” Mally began. “I’m here to—”

King Salir flicked his hand.

“No, no. Please, let me guess,” King Salir interrupted with a smile. “We should have some time before your comrades join us.”

“But that’s what I’m here about,” Mally said quickly. “The castle is under siege—you have to run—”

“Run?” The king looked at her strangely, as if for a moment he thought she was joking. “Why ever, my dear, would I run?”

Mally smiled in relief. He wasn’t a coward. He was going to join them! He was going to help them fight!

King Salir continued to stare at her, a hint of a frown marring his handsome brow. Then a thought seemed to occur to him and he laughed. He laughed so hard that it bounced off the walls. Mally felt her smile slide away.

“Oh, my dear, you are a funny one!” King Salir laughed. “I’ll be fighting, all right. But not by your side.”

King Salir suddenly moved forward, resting his elbows on his knees and fixing her with a heated gaze. His eyes seemed to be smoldering coals.

“I appreciate you warning me; it is very touching of you, but aren’t you concerned for your well being? The knights could charge in here any second.”

Mally paled.

“But I won’t call them. No—I would never do that.” King Salir smirked, his eyes twinkling with that heat that made Mally’s stomach squirm. “You can’t count on anyone these days. They’re all a bunch of idiotic children, playing with swords, and Molick’s the biggest fool of them all. Nor do you need to worry about me calling Haskin,” King Salir added.

“Sir Anon?” Mally asked in confusion.

“Yes.” He chuckled at Mally’s bemusement. “Surely you wouldn’t want me to call in the man that’s been trying to do you in for two months?”

“Haskin? No, that was Bayard—Sir Adrian,” Mally explained, startled. “I didn’t know you knew about that.”

“Oh, I knew,” said King Salir cheerfully over his glass. “But I assure you. It was not Bayard no matter how unpleasant he is. Believe me, Anon was doing his damnedest to kill you.”

“No! Sir Anon hasn’t done anything to me!”

King Salir shook his head, still smiling, like an uncle having a pleasant conversation with his favorite—if stubborn—niece.

“Bayard attacked me soon after I came here,” Mally continued to argue. “Sir Anon—”

“Sir Anon failed to kill you sixteen years ago,” King Salir interrupted. “Sir Anon overheard Gladys telling Mildred about your birthmark. He recognized the description because he had seen it before when you were a baby. Sir Anon knew who you were. Sir Anon fiddled with the stand’s legs and bumped it when you were standing under it. Sir Anon gave your friend those mushrooms intending for you to eat them. Sir Anon pushed you down the stairs. Sir Anon failed.”

Mally stared at King Salir numbly. Incredulously. She couldn’t believe this. Sir Anon? And if King Salir knew all of this … knew about her birthmark … he had known throughout their entire conversation who she was and why she was here! Why were they having this long talk when the knights and rebels were battling somewhere in the castle?

But the king was speaking again.

“You needn’t fear him attacking you now. Anon is dead.”

“Dead?”

Mally’s brain worked feverishly, trying to take this strange conversation in. Something wasn’t right.

“Your Highness,” Mally said, trying to keep her voice calm. “If you know who I am … who I really am, then we need to get moving. The rebels are attacking the castle—”

“They’re all imprisoned,” King Salir said with a shrug, but then he smiled as if Mally had just made a surprise move on a chessboard. “Ah! But the servant passages! Oh, very clever, my dear. I always knew there had to be one leading to the dungeons, though I could never find it!” King Salir beamed at her.

“You know where the passages are?” Mally asked, her voice dropping.

King Salir inclined his head, smiling.

“I don’t know as many as Meriyal, but I know a good number. It seems that my timing was better than expected. I knew there would be a time when I would have to give out my—and your—carefully kept secrets. I told Molick about a couple of passages just this evening. During dinner, actually. When Anon told me of his blundering, I knew it was time. He was a complete waste. I see now I made a mistake in trusting him. He’s more useful to me now dead.”

Mally took a step backwards, wanting to get far from this man.

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“Did you—”

“Kill him?” King Salir finished for her. “Of course I killed him.”

Mally stumbled backward as if she’d been punched.

“He had failed me. I have believed you dead for sixteen years. I’ve believed you dead ever since he informed me that he’d dropped you in the ocean. I told him to handle the servant Cayla as well, as she was becoming meddlesome, but she slipped through his incompetent fingers.” King Salir sighed. “No matter, she resigned shortly afterwards. And when that woman Kiora Locke began to ask troubling questions about my story of your fever”—King Salir’s mouth twitched into a smirk as if he had said something clever—“Anon lured her to the Bell Tower and pushed her over the side. But when I discovered the truth … that he had lied to me … well, I didn’t approve, Mally. I didn’t approve at all.” He cocked his head suddenly and asked, “Are you sure I can’t offer you something?”

Mally was numb. It couldn’t be.

“No? You do seem pale,” King Salir observed, taking a sip from his own glass.

“You were behind all of it?” Mally demanded, her voice constricted. Not Molick? It had never been Molick?

King Salir looked highly satisfied.

“Oh yes. King Sebastian and your mother—” King Salir laughed and shook his head. “They wouldn’t do. No, not at all. They were so blind. Never noticed the knights organizing underneath their noses … never noticed me. The Horse Mint was simple and the poison in his goblet—” King Salir’s smile widened and he tilted his head back as if reliving a wonderful memory. “My favorite part was the look on that stupid servant’s face when Molick took her to the dungeons. I played my part well. No one knew it was me. Not Molick, not—”

“Maud did!” Mally yelled.

King Salir raised an eyebrow.

“She knew it was you all along!” Mally continued wildly. “You got the poison from her apothecary, didn’t you?”

King Salir’s smirk had disappeared but he whispered harshly, “She held her tongue though. She had no proof. And who is going to listen to a mad old apothecary owner?”

Mally gritted her teeth, feeling the waves of hate and fury radiate off her body. Her clenched fists were trembling in anger. She had come here to help him. To save him!

“What are the odds?” King Salir continued. “Of all the places, all the towns, you come here. You had to come back to Bosc. But I prefer it this way. Now I can deal with you myself, as clearly, I should have from the beginning.” His smooth countenance was back under control. “When Anon told me who you were, after the rebels had been captured, he tried to convince me that you would never come back. That the knights had scared you enough that you would stay hidden away in your small farm town. But I knew better. I knew you’d come back. It was predictable—though, it would have made things so much easier if you had been a coward.”

He placed his glass down on the table and stood. Mally watched him pull his sword out of its sheath.

“Shall we get this over with?” he asked.

Mally froze, suddenly realizing how foolish she had been. She had nothing to defend herself with. She stared as Romore raised his sword, her brain horribly blank—

BOOM.

Mally jumped and spun around; Romore froze. The doors to his chamber had been flung open with such violence that they banged on the stone walls. In a rush, Galen and Lita raced into the chamber with three knights at their heels. Galen grabbed Mally’s elbow and they plunged for the tapestry that hid the secret passage.

“Get them!” Mally heard Romore scream.

Mally, Lita, and Galen ran down the passage. Mally glanced over her shoulder and saw the knights chasing after them.

“Here! Here!” Lita gasped, taking a sharp right in the winding passages. With a startled oof! they ran into Nathan, Egan and two men Mally recognized as rebels who had been captured.

“Knights are behind us!” Lita gasped.

“We’ll take care of them!” said Nathan, pushing past her.

They started again, but Mally looked about her frantically.

“Where’s Edwin?”

“With Mom,” Galen yelled, tugging her into a run.

They rushed down the passageways, making a sharp turn or doubling back—anything to confuse the knights following them. Mally picked up a sword stained with blood that lay abandoned on the cold stone and continued on. They raced through the secret passages without any sense of direction. Mally didn’t have a clue where they were anymore. They skidded to a halt as another passageway crossed their path.

“Which way?” Mally asked.

But before they could move in any direction, two knights went racing past them with Archie, Gerda, and Meriyal hot on their trail. Meriyal had a broom in her hands and was swiping it at the retreating knights. They had come and gone so quickly that Mally blinked.

“THERE THEY ARE!”

Mally, Lita and Galen jumped. Bayard and Vinsus had appeared in the passage ahead. They were running toward them. Galen moved in front of Mally, raising his sword—

Suddenly Gibbs and Sir Brian appeared through the side passage from which Archie, Meriyal and Gerda had just emerged, blocking Mally, Galen and Lita.

“Run!” Gibbs yelled at them as his sword clashed with Bayard’s.

Mally and Lita stood frozen, staring stupidly as Gibbs and Sir Brian parried every blow.

“Mally!” Galen shouted, pulling on her arm.

Mally grabbed Lita by the elbow and they stumbled away from the strange scene. She couldn’t get her mind around what she had witnessed. Gibbs and Sir Brian were fighting the knights? They were helping the rebels?

They dove into a side passage and flew down it.

“Where are we going?” Mally panted. They had left the servant passages at last. After a moment, Mally realized they were on the second floor, on the balcony that overlooked the great hall. The marbled remains of many smashed busts lay littered under their feet. Mally saw on the opposite side of the balcony more fighting between the knights and the rebels. She spotted Ivan amongst them, fighting Stoops. Down below in the great hall, there was more yelling and screaming. The great doors had been flung wide.

“Take that you barbarians!”

Mally recognized the voice as she saw Bob Kettle out of the corner of her eye, directing his stable hands, who were standing halfway down the large staircase, throwing horseshoes at the knights trying to climb them.

Lita gasped and gave a strangled cry. Mally turned to her in alarm, thinking she was injured, but Lita was pointing at the large, arching windows, her face terrible and ashen. Orange and yellow light glowed from the dark city. It took a moment before Mally’s brain understood, but Lita cried out, “They’ve set the city ablaze! The knights are burning the city!”

The knights that patrolled the outer walls of Bosc … Mally felt sick to her stomach.

The door behind them suddenly banged open again and five more knights appeared along with King Salir. The knights flew upon them, forcing Galen and Lita to one side, while Mally ducked out of the way.

King Salir ran toward her, raising his gleaming sword. She raised her own bloodied sword, but he easily knocked it from her grasp. She jumped aside, bumping into a candelabra. The candlesticks tumbled off their holders. As Romore raised his sword again, she grabbed hold of the candle stand and swung it at him like a club. He parried her attack, but Mally swung again, forcing Romore backwards. One of her wild swings knocked over a bust. It fell over the side of the balcony’s rail. Romore’s sword swooped down on her and she barely blocked the blow. Mally’s hands trembled from the force and the candle stand dropped from her numb fingers.

“MALLY!” Galen yelled in panic. He couldn’t get to her. Vinsus had him penned against the wall. Lita had been grabbed by another knight and she was kicking his shins. The others on the opposite side of the balcony couldn’t get to her. She was alone. All alone against Romore.

Mally’s ears seemed to fill with fuzz. The noise around her was oddly muffled and all she could focus on was the sword point inches from her chest. Salir Romore stood before her. He was breathing quickly, slight perspiration on his brow, a smug grin spreading on his face.

“What a mess you’ve caused,” Romore observed, glancing at the horde below them.

“I didn’t cause this. You did,” Mally stated, glaring at Romore.

“Do they all know?” he asked, inclining his head to the battle below them. “Yes, they must at least suspect ... No matter.” He took a step toward Mally, forcing her to take a hasty retreat to keep from being impaled. “It’s so easy to crush someone’s hope,” he added conversationally. “Simple really. You just have to find their inspiration.”

Mally’s lower back bumped into the rail, but Romore took another step. Mally leaned backwards over the rail, trying to keep away from his sword.

“And once their inspiration has been destroyed,” Romore continued with a smile. “They give up.”

“They won’t give up if you kill me,” Mally stated, marveling at her own conviction. Her heart pounded under her ribs, and part of her brain prayed for her to somehow survive this, but something had snapped in her. Around her, people were losing their lives to take back what had been taken from them. They would continue on their path whether she was alive or dead. This would have happened whether her identity had been discovered or not.

Romore’s sneer twisted into an ugly grimace. He lunged. Mally somehow dodged the blade and grabbed hold of the hilt. She struggled against him, fighting for the sword. Romore pushed her against the rail. Under her feet, the crumbled remains of the busts rolled, making her slip. Panicking, Mally realized Romore was trying to push her over the side! She twisted and kicked, trying to get loose from Romore’s grasp. A sharp pain pierced her side, but she ignored it. She thought she heard people screaming her name.

“Ahhhh!” Romore screamed. She had cut his arm by twisting the sword violently from his grasp.

Feeling his hold slacken, Mally leaped around him, away from the rail. Romore spun around to face her, but as he did, his foot landed on a lump of stone from the broken busts. He slipped. As if in slow motion, Mally watched him teeter backwards—his startled eyes wide with fear—and fall forty feet to the great hall below.

Mally stood rooted to the spot. The sword dropped from her trembling hand with a clatter. She heard the noises around her as if from under water, muffled and confusing. She blinked, clammy sweat beading on her forehead. She didn’t understand why her legs were shaking or why her vision swam … the pain in her side seared. She looked down and saw her shirt and skirt stained red.