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“Who are his allies in Duenne?” Ilse asked after she digested this news.

Benno hesitated. “From what I know, he has a few. Many others agree with him, but none wish to oppose the king or Markus Khandarr. However, the duke has influence. It is because of him that his son lives.”

Ilse studied her hands, the fingers interlocked. “Then I must go to the duke.” She glanced up to Baron Mann. “Would your purse extend to a fast horse and the means for fresh mounts between here and Duenne? It’s a risk. It’s all a risk. But if I ride tomorrow, I could reach the city within the week.”

“That will be too late,” Benno Iani said. “Lord Khandarr—”

“I have no choice, Benno.” Her voice caught, and she had to swallow hard before she could continue. “I cannot transport myself with magic. I tried once. I nearly lost myself between worlds. But I cannot give up now. I have a message to deliver to Armand of Angersee, concerning Raul but much more besides. Too many people have died so I might deliver it.”

Afraid she might start weeping if she thought about those who died, Ilse stood abruptly. She heard Mann thanking them for the news about Raul, then Benno’s servant making his appearance to guide them back to their horses.

To be honest, she had not expected them to offer a sudden resolution to her problem. The information they provided was enough. She would ride tomorrow to Duenne. There she would seek out Duke Kosenmark. Raul would be dead, but at least she could accomplish their goal of peace. That was not yet impossible.

At the inn, Mann parted from her, saying he would arrange for horses, money, and whatever else she required for her journey. Ilse retired to the drill yard and attacked the invisible air with her sword.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

Her sword buried its point in the soft wooden door. Ilse noted the flaws in her approach and attack, and resumed her practice. She was vaguely aware of the sun slanting westward, of her own shadow leaping higher and longer, but all she saw was the sword and its target.

One of Mann’s guards arrived and vanished. Ilse hardly paid them attention. But when other familiar figures intruded, she paused in her drill.

Benno stood just inside the courtyard, his lean body draped in plain robes and framed by sunset. Behind him was Baron Mann—a very different Baron Mann dressed in plain dark clothes, his features settled in grave lines.

“I will take you to Duenne myself,” Iani said without preamble. “Through the magic plane. I’ve made such a journey before, alone and with others.” He lifted a hand at her protests. “Yes, we risk a great deal, but we risk more if you ride, whether you ride alone or with a company of guards. Lord Khandarr might not expect you in particular, but he will have spies watching all the roads. And you cannot reach Duenne in less than ten days.”

Ilse drew a sharp breath. “We might lose days or months in the magic plane.”

Iani nodded. “It’s possible. But you will certainly lose a week, or longer, by ordinary means. And though Lord Khandarr has set watch spells around the palace, he cannot spell all of Anderswar.”

“What does Emma say?”

Benno’s mouth stretched into an unhappy smile. “Emma said a great deal these past few hours. She distrusts Khandarr. She distrusts Armand and his court. But she agrees you must deliver your message to the king without delay. She says she will wait here for my return, whenever that return might take place, in this life or a future one.”

Another promise made, another implied weight of trust.

“And you?” she said to Mann. “Will you continue your journey south?”

“Yes and no.”

“The baron,” Iani said drily, “has expressed the desire to accompany us.”

Mann’s only response was an edged smile.

Ilse eyed him. His expression was far different from Damek’s, but she was uncomfortably reminded of the boy, and others who had decided to sacrifice themselves for her. “Josef,” she said softly.

That brought a change to his countenance. She had not addressed him by name before.

“Josef, you know what we face,” she said. “Armand will not like my news. Raul might die, no matter what. Anyone who helps me—”

“Stop it,” Mann said sharply. “I do understand the danger, however difficult you find that to believe. I am not stupid. I am not a romantic, unlike you and the rest of your insufferable friends. In spite of that, I might prove useful. I have done so already.”

Benno glanced toward her with a meaningful expression. She considered a moment, then shook her head. They could disable Baron Mann with sword or magic. And yet she wasn’t certain she wanted to. He had proved an unexpected ally, reliable and perceptive. A good companion to have in difficult times.

“What preparation do you need to make?” she asked Mann.

“None. All has been accomplished while you skewered your target.”

She eyed him with suspicion. “You expected me to agree?”

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