Dreams Made Flesh

about the baby. If she knew what had been done, there was no sign of grief. If she didn't know, there was no concern that she'd been allowed to leave without the child. Not one word about the loss of their newborn son. Not. One. Word.
    He dropped the messages back on the silver tray his butler had placed on his desk. Called in a long, soft black jacket, slipped it on, adjusted his shirt cuffs and collar. Then he picked up the agreements and left the Hall.
    While the Ambassador carefully looked over the agreements, no doubt to confirm that nothing had been altered after they'd been signed, Saetan looked around the room the man had called home for the past few weeks. Two pieces of Zuulaman pottery were arranged on a table, along with a wooden flute and a book of the island's folk tales. He knew that's what the book contained because the Ambassador had given him a copy the first time the man had called to discuss the trade agreements. And on the wall was a framed, primitive sketch of a seashore.
    "This takes care of it," the Ambassador said. "I believe this takes care of everything."
    Not quite. The thought bloomed. Found the storm hidden in the mist. Echoed through that terrible clarity.
    "If there's anything I can do to assist you in collecting the first shipment of goods …" The Ambassador frowned. "Prince SaDiablo?"
    No word of regret. No mention of the child whose blood had bought those sacks of grain, those casks of wine, whose death had sentenced the Dhemlan people to buying pottery and sketches they didn't want.
    Rage flowed through him, a cold, sweet poison.
    Saetan looked at the Ambassador and smiled. "There is one thing you can do."
    "I'm not available to anyone," Saetan said as he brushed past his butler.
    "What if the Dhemlan Queens…"
    "Not to anyone."
    Down, down, down until he came to the corridor deep beneath the Hall that led to his private study. Only Andulvar knew about this study, with the small bedroom and bathroom attached to it. A private place for the times when his Craft demanded such privacy.
    He pressed a spot in the study wall. A piece swung back, revealing another short corridor. After stepping inside, he closed the hidden door, then created a ball of witchlight to provide illumination as he walked down the corridor and entered the workroom. Setting the witchlight in a bowl on the large wooden table, he stripped out of his jacket and tossed it aside.
    The baby kept crying.
    He opened Black-locked cupboards. Took out the tools no other man owned and placed them on the table. When everything was ready, he carefully unrolled a spindle of spider silk and attached the thread to the wooden frame he'd placed in the center of the table.
    The baby kept crying.
    "Hush, little one," Saetan crooned. "Hush. Papa will take care of things. Papa will take care of everything."
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    "What do you mean he's not available?" Andulvar growled.
    "We haven't seen him since he returned from seeing the Ambassador yesterday," the butler replied.
    "But he's here?"
    "We think so."
    Andulvar shifted his weight, opened his wings slightly.
    The butler swallowed nervously. "We thought he'd gone to the cellars to select a bottle of wine or some brandy, but when he didn't return, we looked for him."
    And didn't find him. Which means I know where he's gone.
    "When he reappears, tell him I want to speak with him."
    "At once, Prince Yaslana."
    Andulvar walked out of the Hall, cursing himself. He should have taken the boys to Askavi and come back here. Hell's fire, he should have taken them to Ebon Askavi and asked Draca and Geoffrey to look after them for a few days. They'd be safe at the Keep. Nothing could touch them at the Keep.
    He should have come back here. Saetan wasn't stable. Anyone looking at the man could tell he was too close to sliding into the Twisted Kingdom.
    But only a fool would go down to that private study without some idea of what he might find there.
    So I'll give him the day to lick his wounds in private. Then I'll be a fool.
    He spread his wings and prepared to launch himself skyward and catch the Winds to go back to Askavi. Then he hesitated, looked at the drive that became the road into Halaway. He couldn't reach Saetan right now, but there was one other person who could tell him if anything else had happened yesterday.
    He clenched his teeth as the Warlord who owned the inn hurried along the corridor ahead of him.
    "Haven't seen him since dinner yesterday," the Warlord said. "Sneers at