Pendel had changed.

Visually, it remained the same, but there was a crackling tension in the air that had not been there before. The guards were tense as they passed through the south gate, their backs straight as rods and eyes flickering about with nervousness. When the braver souls questioned why Corden had brought Everna back, unbound, despite the accusations against her, he sent them back to their post with a snappish reminder to mind their duties.

Wil and Lisette, who refused to allow her to leave unsupervised, despite her insistence that Corden was capable enough, disappeared into the side streets as they came into the town proper.

Worry wormed within Everna’s chest as she hurried after Corden, her sword bouncing at her hip. She'd swapped her dress for her leathers, one of Lisette's spare cloaks thrown hastily over her shoulders. Leah's ring was warm on her finger, the magic radiating from it a source of comfort. Corden insisted she come prepared for a fight. If Shroud had the audacity to attack the town hall, they might target her in the streets or in the tavern.

"They're getting desperate," Corden said, leading her down an all too familiar path — one she never thought she'd see again. "Whatever Shroud's trying to accomplish here is falling apart on them."

She didn't bother to question how he knew of Shroud, or their interest in her. As a High Knight, Corden likely knew of every entity that threatened the kingdom, be it as trivial as orc tribes encroaching on the borders or vile death cults bent on regional domination. The High Knights frequently worked with the Courts as well, and as far as she knew, Shadowguard kept the Courts informed of the situation. Corden probably knew more about it than she did.

"But why target Mom and Pala? What do they have to do with this?"

Corden threw her a sideways look. "Pendel's history isn't what you think it is, but we'll discuss that later. As for Mom and Pala, Shroud's going after anyone investigating Mayor Ashburn's death or meddling in their affairs. I don't know if Mom was snooping around or just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and we won't know until one of them wakes up."

"Will they wake up?"

"Most likely," Corden said. "I brought a cleric with me for the interrogations. Without her, they may not have lasted another night, but they should be fine. She took care of Pala this morning and was tending to Mom when I left."

They rounded a corner, and Everna's chest ached at the sight before her; the Dancing Dragon loomed in the distance. Though only two stories tall, dwarfed by the row houses surrounding it, it dominated the corner of the street. The doors sat ajar, the usual drunkards bumbling about on the curb Lazy Eye Earl vomited in the same rusted pail as always; Thad and his surly wife, Gwendoline, were in the middle of another drunken argument over their mangy cat; and Gyles, Lyra's betrothed, lay face down in the snow. Lyra herself stood over him, a bucket of steaming water in hand, her face set with irritation.

"Five coins says she'll drop it on his head," Corden muttered.

"Ten coins says she's debating it, but she'll dump it anyway because she'd feel bad," Everna countered. "Fifteen says it won't work."

No sooner than the words left her lips, Lyra's shoulders slumped in silent defeat and she tipped the bucket. Water spilled over Gyles, soaking into the back of his cotton shirt and dousing his ragged brown curls. He didn't move.

Everna held out her hand, expectant.

With a muttered curse, Corden pulled the coins from his coin purse and slapped them into her waiting hand.

Just as Lyra turned to head back inside, she spotted them. The bucket tumbled from her hands, striking Gyles in the back of the head. Corden held his hand out, but Everna slapped it away.

"That doesn't count."

Gathering her skirts, Lyra hurried through the thick layer of snow blanketing the streets. "By the gods, Everna! I was worried sick about you! Where have you been all this time!?"

Though no one explicitly told her not to mention the safe house, she had enough sense not to bring it up. She trusted Lyra, but the fear of being overheard by other, less trustworthy individuals had her reaching for a more suitable excuse. Suitable, but embarrassing.

"Trenbrook," she said, the lie easily slipping off her tongue. "Turns out my Aunt Ettie is good for something other than marrying a different man every three years."

Lyra cocked her head, a frown tugging at her lips. "I thought she lived in the Old Capital."

"She did," Everna sighed. "She got caught committing adultery and her husband divorced her. Why do you think my parents went to Trenbrook a few weeks ago? She got married. Again."

Everna wished she could say she fabricated the story, but everything bar staying with her aunt was true. Everna once swore she was the only normal person in her family. She couldn't even claim that anymore.

Lyra scrunched her nose. "That couldn't have been fun. Though you picked a bad time to come home."

"She wouldn't be here otherwise," Corden said. "Beyond what happened last night, I need everyone present at the time of Mayor Ashburn's murder to re-testify. Windmore destroyed the reports from that night."

"Oh, who would've seen that coming?" Everna muttered.

Lyra shook her head, her blonde hair falling from its sloppy bun. "I don't have a clue what's going on in this town anymore. First Mayor Ashburn's murdered, then Windmore kills Sir Swiftbrook and blames you. Now the town hall burns down while Pala and Evelina are inside?"

Corden narrowed his eyes. "How did you know about Windmore?"

Lyra jerked her thumb, almost a bit too harshly, at Gyles. "Apparently, my insignificant other knows a guard who was in the post the night it happened. Said the guard saw him do it." Then she jabbed her finger into Everna's shoulder and asked, "But what were you doing there?"

"Allowing my stupidity to get the better of me," Everna sighed. "I suspected Windmore tampered with the reports. I thought I could prove something."

Lyra rolled her eyes. "Not like you've never done that before." She waved her hand and said, "As much as I'd love to hear about your insane stunt, I have to get back to work. Since you've been gone, I've had to run the bar. Honestly, I don't know how you do it."

"A lot of patience," she called over her shoulder as Corden ushered her through the tavern doors.

The tavern was as busy as she expected. Patrons, mostly townsfolk and the odd traveler, crowded the tables. A small party of adventurers sat in the far corner, a map and several posters scattered across their table. They were likely targeting bounties. The orc tribes in the forest often attempted raids on the town in the winter, when food was most scarce. Banor, halfway into a drunken stupor, sat at the end of the bar. It was almost a normal evening, save for the significant lack of activity.

Though busy, the tavern was unusually quiet; the patrons subdued. Conversation hardly rose above a whisper. There were no bards ambling about, telling fanciful tales or playing half-learned tunes. The waitresses were slow, almost lethargic. Even the usual arguing from the kitchens was absent.

"Mind Lyra," Corden muttered as he led her up the stairs to their home. "Don't trust her."

"What? Why not?" Everna asked.

He threw her a wary look over his shoulder. "I know the guard she was talking about. It's the same one who questioned you the night of Mayor Ashburn's assassination."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Gillan didn't see Windmore kill him. He saw the blood on his uniform and overheard him admit to it," Corden said. "He only told three people about it, and Gyles wasn't one of them. Lyra shouldn't know about it."

"Perhaps it's not the same guard? Corden, you know she's a terrible liar. I get that you have to be open to possibilities, but you're being a bit too paranoid."

"And you're being too naïve," he opposed, irritation bathing his voice. "You went to school for this, Ever. You should know better than to ignore something questionable based on personal bias."

While he was correct, she could not bring herself to believe it. It would mean Lyra was involved, and that just wasn't possible. Lyra couldn't bring herself to end her relationship with Gyles without feeling guilty. She couldn't even kill a mouse without crying. She couldn’t be part of Shroud's plans.

"The Guard isn't as honest as you'd like to think it is. Several of them are in on Windmore's ploy, and who knows how many more in the hall witnessed it?"

"I hope, for your sake, you're right," Corden said, clearly unconvinced. He glanced behind her to Wil and Lisette, who'd abandoned the shadows once they entered the tavern. "Your friends coming all the way up?"

"Probably.” She sighed, just as Wil and Lisette voiced their affirmations. "They're as paranoid as you are."

"I don't think you understand the severity of your situation."

"I understand it just fine," Everna grumbled. "But not being able to take a piss without someone hovering outside the door's getting old."

"Get used to it," Corden said. "Until we can sort the situation with—"

A sudden chorus of voices rose from the taproom, stopping him short. Above the commotion, Everna heard her father — she hadn't seen him when they entered. Then she heard Windmore.

"I know she's here, Ronan," Windmore said. "The Guard saw her enter the town with your son."

The sound of his voice elicited a whirlwind of emotions, many of which she kept at bay over the last month and a half. A new form of anxiety lodged itself in her gut, but with it came a violent surge of irritation that quickly grew into an inferno of barely restrained outrage. She gritted her teeth and released a slow, deliberate breath.

Now was not the time, she reminded herself. Her father could handle Windmore. He'd love nothing more.

"Even if she was, which she isn't, it'd be none of your damn business," her father snarled. "You don't call the shots around here, regardless of what you think."

The ferocity of his voice startled even Corden, whose eyes widened with both amusement and shock. It was the same look he had whenever their parents argued — as if he wasn't sure whether to laugh or hightail it into the next room before the daggers started flying. Everna returned the look with one of her own.

She could count on one hand the times she'd heard such genuine animosity in his voice.

Against her better judgement, however, she squeezed past Wil and Lisette and crept back down the stairs. At the edge of the alcove, she stopped to observe the scene unfolding in the middle of the taproom. Windmore had not come alone; at least twenty of the Guard accompanied him, and half had their weapons drawn. Her father stood across from them, not the least bit daunted, his battleaxe in hand.

A frown tugged at her lips. He must've known Corden went to fetch her and that Windmore would jump at the opportunity to apprehend her. Had Corden intended for that? Or had Shroud attacked her mother to lure her out of hiding?

It had to be the former. Her father may not be as young as he once was, and the injuries he sustained in his duel with the dragon may have severely limited his physical capabilities, but his reputation preceded him. He could still take Windmore down, and Windmore's goons knew that. She saw the fear in their eyes, the hesitation with which they held their swords.

"It's entirely my business. I have direct orders from the steward himself," Windmore said, his chin hefted. He reached into the front of his chain shirt and produced a wooden scroll case, which bore the royal crest. From inside the case, he retrieved a rolled-up sheet of parchment. "By order of the Steward, and bearing the approval of the High Court, Everna Kinslayer is guilty of two accounts of treason against the Crown: the assassination of Arden Ashburn, Mayor of Pendel, and the assassination of Calwell Swiftbrook, a Knight of Inverness, as well as one account of breaking-and-entering, one account of interfering with an ongoing investigation, and one account of fleeing and eluding the Guard. For her crimes, the High Court has declared she is to hang by the neck until dead."

Everna turned to Corden, a brow raised in question. The case and the charges seemed legitimate, but a quick shake of Corden's head confirmed her suspicions that the accompanying order was not. If the Steward or the High Court indeed issued her arrest, Corden, or another High Knight, would be the one to announce the warrant.

Windmore was, once again, trying to ruin her life, and she'd had enough of it.

"How ironic that the Steward would have a snake deliver his orders considering you're guilty of both treason and conspiracy," she said as she stepped fully into the taproom. "Perhaps we should throw in impersonating a High Knight as well, because the gods know you don't have the authority to issue that warrant, regardless of how legitimate it seems."

A wicked grin split Windmore's face. "Ah, there she is. Arrest her."

More than half moved to carry out Windmore's order. The other hesitated, looking between themselves, then to Corden. Everna narrowed her eyes. Not all of them were Windmore's personal entourage.

Or they were more daunted by Corden than the potential ramifications of disobeying their superior.

Her father readied his axe. "You touch my daughter, and death won't come quickly enough for you."

"Stand down!" Corden ordered.

That brought the guards — all of them — to pause. Windmore, however, didn't yield. Her father's threat only encouraged him. Wicked satisfaction shone in his eyes as his grin widened further. It was the same look he'd given her in the Guard post.

"I believe that's a direct threat towards the Crown's Guard," he tutted. "That is an act of treason. Arrest him too, while you're at it."

"Windmore, I said stand down!" Corden repeated with no small amount of restraint.

Everna pursed her lips. Windmore defied a direct order; Corden had every authority to arrest him for it, and the Corden she knew wouldn't hesitate to do so.

What was he waiting for?

"No, Sir Shadefell," Windmore spat, "I will not stand down. In fact, I have to question your motives. You're clearly protecting these treasonous rats and, in doing so, committing treason yourself."

Everna couldn't help the laugh that pulled from her lips. "Knowing of a treasonous conspiracy and remaining silent, as well as killing one of the Knights of Inverness, is treason, but that didn't stop you, did it?”

The look in Windmore's eyes turned sinister. "You have no proof of those accusations. I have both your shoes and your hair, which were found in the post shortly after the incident."

She opened her mouth, only to snap it shut. She didn't have irrefutable evidence of that, merely his word against hers. While Windmore was a habitual liar, he had the benefit of his position on his side. Wil's word didn't carry as much weight, either. The Courts' refusal to exonerate her proved as much.

Corden was her only hope, and it would be another matter of words against tangible evidence.

Or perhaps not.

One guard, the young redhead who'd questioned her the night of Mayor Ashburn's assassination, drew his sword. Rather than point it at her, he turned it on Windmore.

"Actually, Captain, I saw the blood on your uniform before Everna entered the post," the guard, whom she assumed was Gillan, snarled. "I was standing right behind you when you admitted you killed him and planned to lure her there to incriminate her."

"I'm the one who found the good Sir. Of course there was blood on my uniform! I had to investigate the crime!" Windmore hissed, turning to face Gillan. "I suspected you were in on it after I found those tampered reports. It seems my assumptions were correct."

The anger that took hold of her at that moment was not as potent as the raging fury she'd experienced in Windhollow, but it trod close to that realm. With every word that left Windmore's mouth, her blood boiled. She'd had it.

She'd had it with Windmore, with Shroud — with the entire ordeal.

"You're not getting out of it this time," Everna seethed, pulling her blade free of its sheath. "You ruined my life. Mayor Ashburn and Sir Swiftbrook are dead because of you. My mother and Pala are on death's door because of your associates in Shroud, and you have the fucking gall to stand here and claim you're the innocent one?"

"What are you going to do? Kill me?" Windmore mocked, eying the sword in her hand.

Again, Everna laughed. Her hand shook as she tightened her grip on her sword. "You know what? Maybe I will. It's not like I have anything left to lose. You made certain of that."

"If you think you'll fare better than your last disastrous attempt to kill me, be my guest. The Steward has ordered your execution and there is nothing you can do about it. Whether you hang or die by my sword makes no difference to him."

Before she could do anything, Corden pushed past her, unsheathing his own sword. "The Steward ordered no such thing."

Windmore laughed. "Did you truly think the Courts would trust you to act without bias in this matter? They sent you here to test your loyalty and you—"

"The Courts have no power over the High Knights," Wil said, startling her. She'd forgotten he and Lisette were still waiting at the top of the steps.

As Wil descended the stairs, his steps silent against the old planks, something about him seemed different. He removed his hood, his face bared for all the tavern to see. He stood straighter, almost imperious, his shoulders squared and his chin high. The way he stared down his nose at Windmore reminded her of the way the nobles gazed upon the lower class — as if they were nothing but swine.

When he reached the bottom, Corden stepped aside, his head lowered with deference.

"But while the Courts have no power over them, I do," Wil said. There was a practiced ease to his words, each one enunciated with the utmost perfection. "You're wrong to assume it's Everna's word against yours; it's mine you should fear, and like the bumbling fool that you are, you confessed to your treachery. While the Courts have elected to overlook that fact, I have not."

With every word that left his lips, the color drained from Windmore's face. Gone was the demented glee that lit his eyes like wicked flames. Now, only terror remained.

"Corden, I have no further use for him," Wil said, and the frigidity of his tone sent a shiver down Everna's spine. "Arrest him."

A sardonic smile spread her brother's lips. "As you wish, Your Highness."

Confrontation

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