Chapter 20 — Colors
They had him on his knees in the great hall with three spears at his back, and he was wearing Ironridge gray.
Sierra came in still mud-stained from the east district, and the hall parted in front of her like water.
"Report."
"Third floor, east wing, service passage." Orin's voice was clipped and furious. "He came up through the linen stair at midday, when the wing thins out. Two of my men took him nine steps from the nursery door." He held out a cloth bundle and unrolled it on the table. Wire. A short blade. A folded square of oiled paper, opened now, its contents a fine gray powder.
The royal healer had already sniffed at it and gone white. "Wolfsbane, Majesty. Ground and dried. Enough for six adults." Her voice shook with something close to rage. "Or for a great
