Bodil was only a little bit taller than me, making her small by Omte standards, and she was very pretty. Her long dark waves of hair were pulled up into a braided updo, and her gown looked similar to mine, although hers was in much better shape.

Her crown sat crookedly on her head, in large part because it looked like it had been bent many times, and given what I knew about the Omte, I imagined that it had been thrown against the wall on more than one occasion. It was a thick bronze, twisted around in an attempt to look ornate, but it reminded me more of an ambitious child’s art project.

She wore a necklace adorned with large gemstones, along with several gaudy rings and a bracelet. All the gems appeared to be imperial topaz, an expensive amber-colored stone. And these were all very large rocks she had.

For her part, Bodil hadn’t said much to us, other than insisting that the alligator eggs were delicious. It was her Viceroy, Helge Otäck, who had done most of the talking. He stood directly behind her, not eating anything, and he’d made all the introductions. He appeared much older than Bodil, probably in his fifties, but it was hard to gauge for sure because of how leathery and worn his skin looked.

Large and brutish, there was something very imposing about Helge. His scraggly light brown hair went down to his shoulders, and he wore just as much jewelry as the Queen. His eyes were the color of burnt caramel, and they were much too small for his face.

Along with the Viceroy and Queen, the young Prince Furston was here. He couldn’t have been more than five, and despite the fact that a place was set for him, he hadn’t sat down once. Instead he ran around the room, his dark brown curls bobbing as he laughed and squealed, and he’d grab whatever he wanted from the platters, preferring to eat on the go, apparently.

“Go ahead, eat,” Bodil said in a way that sounded much more like an order than a suggestion. She stood up and reached over, roughly ripping off a leg from one of the rabbits, then sat back down. So far she’d eaten her entire meal with her hands.

“Yes, of course.” Konstantin stood up first, serving himself an alligator egg and some fruit, before dishing up a similar plate for me.

“Thank you,” I mumbled softly when he handed me my plate.

I took a sip of the eldvatten they’d poured for us in heavy chalices. It smelled like turpentine, but it didn’t really have a flavor, unless “burning” and “fire” could be describe as tastes. I did my best to keep my expression even instead of gagging, and set the cup back on the table.

“So what brings you all here?” Helge asked, smiling in a way that reminded me of a viper.

“We’ve come to offer you information, and ask if you might be of some help,” Konstantin said carefully.

As Bodil tore into the rabbit leg, ripping the meat off with her teeth, the vulture squawked and flapped his wings. She finished the leg quickly, then tossed the bone up to the bird, who caught it easily in his beak. Gam swallowed the bone whole, the brown feathers of his head and neck ruffling as he did.

“What information do you have?” Bodil asked, licking her fingers clean.

“Bent Stum,” Konstantin said. “He was a member of your kingdom.”

Furston suddenly darted over to me and grabbed a fig off my plate. Food already stained his face, and he laughed in delight before running away again.

“Bent was exiled over a year ago, and last we heard, he was dead,” Helge said. “I’m not sure what information you have that could be useful to us.”

“We know who killed him,” I said.

“Furston, come sit with Mommy.” Bodil held her hands out toward him, and the little boy ran toward her. She pulled him onto her lap, and he settled into the folds of her dress, quieting down for the first time since we’d gotten here.

“Do tell,” Helge said, still smiling that reptilian smile of his.

“Viktor Dålig,” I explained, lying to streamline the story. Viktor had ordered the hit on Bent, and while it hadn’t been his hand on the sword, it might as well have been. “He’s a sworn enemy of the Kanin, and he killed Bent to prevent anyone from finding out his plans of attack. He recruited Bent, used him up, and then killed him.”

Helge inhaled through his nose. “That’s unfortunate, but that’s the path Bent chose when he left us.”

“He didn’t leave us,” Bodil corrected him, giving him a hard look from the corner of her eye. “We exiled him.”

Helge’s smile had finally fallen away. “Bent broke the rules. He wouldn’t fall in line.”

“I told you when we exiled him that this could happen.” Bodil ignored him and held her son closer to her. “It left him vulnerable to forces worse than he is, like this Viktor Dålig.”

“My Queen, we’ve already discussed the matter. Bent wouldn’t abide by the rules, and we must have order,” Helge said. “And besides, we don’t know if they’re exaggerating about this Viktor Dålig. He may not have had anything to do with Bent’s death. The Skojare said it was suicide.”

“The Skojare were misled,” Konstantin said. “I was there. I know Viktor did it.” Helge glared at him, and one corner of his lip pulled up in an angry snarl.

“I believe him,” Bodil decided. “Bent was my sister’s son. He was strong-willed and arrogant, and he’d never have killed himself. I told you that when we heard the news. None of it made sense, and you wouldn’t listen to me. Now we need to clean up the mess we’ve made.”

As furtively as I could, I exchanged a look with Konstantin of pleasant surprise. With only limited communication between the Omte and the Kanin, I knew next to nothing of the royal family. In Ridley’s conversations with the Queen after the initial incident in Chicago with Bent and Konstantin, she hadn’t let on that she had a connection to him, but that was typical for the Omte. They were a very secretive people.

Now that I knew that Bent was so closely related to the Queen, it boded well for our plan to enlist the Omte to help us.

Helge bent over, lowering his voice when he spoke. “Perhaps now isn’t the best time to talk about this.”

“My sister will never forgive me for what happened to Bent, but maybe there’s still time for me to make it right,” the Queen said, turning to us. “Do you know where this Viktor Dålig is?”

“Not his exact location, but he’s near Doldastam, planning an attack on the Kanin,” Konstantin said.

Bodil narrowed her eyes behind her long lashes. “So that’s what you wanted from us? To help you stop him from attacking?”

I nodded. “Yes. I thought we might share an enemy, and we could work together.”

“As strong as you are, even sending a few of your people would do irrevocable damage to Viktor and his men,” Konstantin elaborated.

“Why do you care what happens to the Kanin?” She shook her head, not understanding. “You’ve been banished.”

“Everyone I love is still in Doldastam. I don’t want them hurt or killed,” I told her honestly.

For a few moments, the room was filled with a tense silence as Bodil considered what I’d said. The vulture ruffled his feathers, and a crawfish crawled free from the platter, moving slowly onto the table.

“All right,” Bodil said finally. “We’ll help you.”

“My Queen, this Viktor Dålig has an army.” Helge was nearly shouting his protests. “We don’t need to get in the middle of the Kanin’s fight.”

“He killed Bent. No one gets away with killing one of our own,” Queen Bodil said firmly. Her strong jaw was set, and her dark eyes were filled with resolve. “We must be the ones that punish him.”

TWELVE

distrust

As Bekk led us up the long, winding staircase to our room, I lifted the length of my skirt to keep from tripping and tumbling to my death. I had to be careful because I’d smuggled a few figs in it, since I had no idea when we would eat again.

The Queen had directed us to wait in our room while she consulted with the Viceroy and other advisers to come up with a plan of attack. Helge had made it abundantly clear that he thought we’d be waiting a long while.

“How did your meeting go?” Bekk asked, looking over her shoulder at Konstantin and me.

“It went well, I believe,” Konstantin said, but he didn’t sound very confident.

I gave him a curious look. “It was better than I expected, actually.”

“Me too.” He met my gaze. “That’s what makes me nervous.”

“What exactly did you want from the Queen?” Bekk asked when we reached the landing. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

I looked over at Konstantin, who gave a noncommittal shrug. “I suppose if the Queen goes through with it, you’ll find out anyway,” I decided. “We asked for her help in fighting off Viktor Dålig.”

The smooth skin of Bekk’s brow furrowed. “I’ve heard that name before.” She looked away, thinking. “I can’t remember where, but it’s definitely familiar.”