I rose from the bench as Jack and Mr. Mowen emerged from the darkness of the inn into the shaded garden where the crew and I had been reposing for the last hour or so, enjoying unusually balmy weather for February. Both men’s faces wore identical grim expressions. My stomach lurched and tightened into a leaden ball. “You weren’t successful?”
Jack took my hands in his, his thumbs sweeping over my fingers in a gentle caress meant to reassure and comfort. “We tried everything we could to get a message to him, but the security at the cathedral was impossible to get through. We looked for Alan, but couldn’t find him, either.”
“The ambassadors are sure to be almost as protected as the emperor,” I said, the feeling of dread in my gut growing. “Jack, we can’t let him die. Not after everything he
