He wondered sometimes, now that he was free of Ferla Cavenda, if he needed to be so alone. What if news came through that Lovisa and the queen had gotten away someplace safe? What if Benni and Ferla were hauled off to jail and he didn’t have to plot and plan and worry anymore? If he could know that Lovisa no longer needed his protection . . . did that mean he could go far away, to a place where no one knew or cared what a blue fox did? Could he go as far away as Monsea, and live with someone he didn’t have to lie to? Could a blue fox be free?
* * *
—
Then the day came when Ledra’s head magistrate arrived at the Devrets’ front door. He had news: A person claiming to be Lovisa Cavenda had sent a signal message accusing Ferla and Benni Cavenda of kidnapping the Monsean queen and murdering an academy boy. The Monsean queen could confirm this, said the message. The queen was alive.
* * *
—
Lovisa was safe. The queen was safe. They were safe! The fox felt like his blood was made of light. Joy rushed in his ears. They were safe and this would all end soon. Ferla would go to jail, where she couldn’t hurt anyone. He would find them. He would go away with the queen. Everything was going to change!
Then something agonizing happened: nothing. Nothing happened. The head magistrate didn’t arrest Ferla or Benni. He didn’t even bring them to the Magistry to ask them questions. He told them that his was a courtesy visit, to inform them of the situation, but that naturally the Magistry would need to confirm that the message really came from Lovisa, that Lovisa was of sound mind, and most of all, that the Queen of Monsea really was alive, and if so, what she had to say about it.
“Where are they?” Ferla demanded of the magistrate.
“We don’t know yet,” said the head magistrate. “The message didn’t include the usual location marker.”
“That certainly doesn’t lend it credence,” said Benni.
“Nothing lends it credence!” said Ferla. “Someone is trying to frame you for a monstrous crime, Benni!”
“Frame me?” said Benni.
“Frame both of you,” the head magistrate corrected primly.
“It’s absurd,” said Ferla. “And the cruelty of it is stunning, when here we are, grieving our daughter’s death.”
“Indeed,” said the head magistrate. “The entire thing is stunning. I’m sure you’ll respond to our courtesy with courtesy of your own and stay in the Devret house until we have more information?”
Ferla put all of her vicious fury into her response. “Are you saying that we’re under house arrest? The president of Winterkeep and a member of Parliament?”
“Certainly not,” the head magistrate said, his eyes bulging with alarm. “It’s just that we’ll want to be certain of where to find you, should more information come to light.”
“I’ll be here, at one of my offices, or on our grounds sifting through our burnt possessions,” Ferla said. “My husband will be here, at his office, on our grounds, or in an airship, searching for our missing child. When you’ve found the person responsible for these criminal accusations, we’ll be happy for you to inform us of it anywhere, anytime, so that we can begin our own legal proceedings. Do you understand me?”
The head magistrate hesitated, swallowing. Parliament could remove him from office just as swiftly as they’d placed him there. The fox felt him considering this. “Yes, of course,” he said. “Thank you, I’m sure.”
Then he scurried away, leaving the Cavendas and the Devrets together in the entrance hall. Mara and Arni stood quiet and unmoving. They weren’t looking at each other and their faces were carefully composed, but the fox could feel the beginnings of their joint comprehension.
“Well,” Mara said, with a deliberate attempt to soften herself. “This is a terrible thing. I’m so sorry, Ferla and Benni. Please let us know how we can help.” Then, glancing once at her husband, she went away.
Arni grunted something agreeable and followed her. He wasn’t trying as hard to put on an act, though the fox could feel that this was only because he was distracted. Arni was suddenly overwhelmed with concern for, and confusion about, the three small boys living under his roof. He went to seek them out in the guest apartments, invited them to his own library. For a while, he sat with them and read them stories, trying to assess, from some sign in their faces, how much they knew, how much of the magistrate’s accusation was correct. He looked into their eyes, trying to see what their lives had been. He also sent a message to the academy, asking his son to come home, for he wanted to know what his son knew about what Lovisa’s life had been.
But before that, still in the entranceway, Benni turned searching eyes upon his wife. “Frame me?” he repeated gently.
Ferla looked back at him, not speaking. The fox could feel the wall she’d built; Ferla was standing in another world. Her face was turned to Benni, but she couldn’t even see him from where she was.
“My wife of twenty years,” Benni said. “This is how you want it to end?”
Ferla walked away, climbed the narrow stairs to the guest apartments, barely hearing. She was plotting her escape.
* * *
—
That night, Benni and Ferla planned separately.
Sort of. Benni was too bereft and bewildered by his new understanding of Ferla to make much of a plan, and anyway, planning a route through chaos had never been his strong suit. As far as the fox could tell, every time Ferla had ever blamed their dilemmas on Benni’s decisions, Ferla had been right.
So Benni, under the pretense of planning, moped. He wished for his airship. If he only he had it, he could fly up north and make sure the house was free of incriminating evidence.
He climbed the stairs to the guest apartments, gripping the banister, not noticing that it was starting to come loose. He walked to his bedroom and stood numbly at the window, looking down onto the Devrets’ dark, tree-filled grounds. He tried to figure out if this window faced the ruins of his own home, but couldn’t remember, which made him feel stupid and impotent. Benni was usually good at things like directions.
Then Ferla came bursting into the room. He turned and watched her. She stared back, wound up with something Benni couldn’t read. Then she crossed to him and began touching him roughly, kissing him. Her touches reached through his fog of grief and he grasped her, held her, cried against her, brought her to the bed and gave her the pleasure she wanted that made her even sharper and colder. Then Benni fell asleep. Ferla got up and dressed while the fox observed from the grate, trembling, wishing he’d never bonded to someone so manipulative and confusing.
When all of this is over, he thought to himself, I want such a different life. And he thought of Lovisa, hidden somewhere, bravely delivering messages; and the queen, the only being in the world to whom he’d ever told the truth.