No one visited Anya for the rest of the day, except for the kitchen boy, Matt who brought her meals. She wondered if Ildri had refused to bring more to her. The thought made her stomach feel empty in a way that had nothing to do with food. Anya reminded herself that she had more important matters to deal with. Far more important.

The small piece of sky that was visible through the window was growing dark when Anya finally accepted that she would have to ask for someone to come and talk to her. All it would take was a short word to the guard about her intentions and he would see that someone was summoned.

Yet something held Anya back. She did not want to draw attention to herself, or her feigned change of heart. She would wait for the next day and see what came. Surely they would ask her more questions, or were they saving that pleasure for the king? Or perhaps they thought that time alone to wallow in her guilt would loosen her tongue.

It hardly mattered. The door in the next room opened. Anya barely noticed. It opened many times during the day as the guards relieved each other. It was a small detail that faded into the background like the hardness of the cot or the slightly dank scent of the dungeon.

"Anya."

Anya sat up quickly. "You're awake." Jim should barely be softening, not standing just outside the bars of her cell.

"I am."

"How are you? You should still be paralyzed from my potion. Or did Sir Thomas find a way to speed up the relaxing?"

Jim smiled a bit grimly. "I'm not a complete fool. I threw up a magical shield at the last second, and it must have absorbed the worst of it."

"That's interesting."

"I would hardly confront an attempted murderer completely unprepared," he said in a neutral tone, but the words still hurt.

Anya hung her head. "I'm sorry." She wondered how many times she had repeated those words in recent days. It was not as if she could say it often enough to repay the things she had done and tried to do.

Jim shook his head. "I know. I heard you after you attacked me."

His face was a grim mask. Anya could feel tears pushing at the back of her eyelids.

"Why did you do this?"

"I really want to tell you," Anya said, plunging ahead. It was truth with an ulterior motive. When had she learned to be so manipulative?

"Then tell me."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because... Because there's more at stake."

Jim's eyes fixed on hers. "What is at stake?"

"I can't tell you. He might find out." She thought of how she would feel if she were really betraying the mastermind behind everything. She would be afraid for her helpless siblings.

"Who?"

"I can't... I wish that I could explain. Truly I do." Anya wondered if Thorne would consider her sharing suspicions of spies as betraying him. He had not told her not to. It would validate her story. "I think he has people in this castle. Or perhaps uses magic, as you can."

Jim looked at her silently until she felt like she would jump out of her skin. "I can create a shield that I am reasonably certain magical spying will not penetrate. As for spies..."

Jim stood up and went around the corner. "Samson. Go and fetch Sir Thomas, if you please."

"Oi, sir."

"Thank you," said Jim firmly.

Jim returned to stand beside Anya's cell, and there was the noise of the door closing. He stood silently, clearly concentrating. Anya waited quietly.

"This is the best shield that I can manage. Lord Wildwood could do better normally but his magic is still recovering," Jim said flatly. Anya felt a twinge at the knowledge of how his recovery was due to her own actions.

"I trust you."

"Go ahead, Anya. From the beginning."

Anya closed her eyes. "It all began a long time ago. When I was a child I lived with my parents, my older brother, Gage and my younger brother and sister, Damani and Kallie. They're twins. We have a cottage deep in the woods near the capital. We were happy. But then my mother became sick. My father went to a local lord, Lord Reaumur and borrowed money, a lot of money, to pay for treatments for my mother. But she died anyway, and then my father did too. My brother and I did the best we could to pay back the lord and take care of my little brother and sister, but it seemed like nothing we did was enough. My brother went to Waldwick and worked there for a lady and sent the money home."

Jim had been listening intently, but he interrupted. "Who did your brother work for?"

"Lady Francine? I don't remember for sure. I was just happy that we were keeping ahead of the payments. But then, one day my brother was brought home in a wagon. He was very nearly dead and he was feverish. He raved about how he had gotten rid of our debt, and that I needed to run. I thought he was just ranting in the fever. He had two arrows buried in his back, and without proper treatment, he died. I'm not much of a healer. Some witches are skilled at that, but I am not."

Anya cleared her throat and continued. "I was upset that he had died, and I was worried about the debt. I didn't know how to pay it. I didn't make much from my potions. Most of the people in the nearby town were afraid of me. But I thought I would manage somehow. The twins are ten#. They could help me. But then he came. And he told me I needed to complete what my brother had started. I had to come here and kill Lord Wildwood."

"Who is it that asked you to kill him?" Jim asked.

"It was Lord Reaumur. I don't know the details, but it seemed our debt would be cleared when Gage killed Lord Wildwood. But he failed."

Jim was watching her. "So you agreed to kill him in exchange for the debt."

"I agreed, but I lied. I planned to flee with the twins. But he knew that I lied, and he took them. He's got them somewhere. He'll hurt them if I don't succeed, or if I betray him. I can't just let him hurt them. They're just children. They don't deserve to pay for all this."

"Lord Reaumur will free your brother and sister upon Lord Wildwood's death?"

"That's what he said."

"And you believe him?" Jim asked, correctly reading her words.

"I don't have a choice."

"Why didn't you ask for help?"

Anya let out a shaky breath. "I didn't think anyone would help me. And then I suspected that he was watching me. Whenever he contacted me, he knew what had happened. He has spies in the castle, and I am beginning to suspect that his plans are larger than just harming Lord Wildwood."

"What do you think he's aiming for?"

"I can't be certain. But, perhaps he wants the crown. When I heard about that lord being murdered, I began to suspect."

"Lord Reid?"

"Yes, that was his name. Could there be anything to this?" she wondered.

Jim looked at her seriously. "There may be."

Anya slid off the edge of the cot and stepped to the bars. "He's really intelligent. I hate him, but he is clever. He's always a step ahead of me, anticipating what I will do next. I'm scared for the twins. I know I'm past help, but could you help them?"

"We'll try. Lord Wildwood will hardly leave a pair of children to suffer if we find them."

"I know." She wished that she was directing them to the right place to find them, then she could have exposed every turn of Thorne's manipulations.

"You should have spoken of this sooner, Anya," he said.

"I understand that, now. But I was so afraid for the twins. I'm sorry."

"I believe you, but you know, that changes nothing."

"I know, but thank you anyway." It was more than she deserved. She wished that she were telling him the entire truth. And so many other things.

Jim shifted his weight. "I'm going to speak to Lord Wildwood."

Anya wanted to ask what was going to be said but she knew that she had no right to ask. She felt a nervous worrying anticipation as she looked at his impassive face. She remembered how he used to look at her so warmly and she felt sick and void. She forced herself to watch as he walked out of the room.

It hurt every time she was looked at with mistrust, but for some reason it was worse when she could tell Jim felt that way. Anya was certain that there were things that once fractured could never be repaired, and she ached for the loss. But it would all be worth it if the twins were safe. It had to be.

* * * * *

The night was long and Anya had trouble sleeping. She sat on the cot and tried to keep her mind from circling around endlessly. She was quite unsuccessful. Marvin was taking his turn guarding her.

"Marvin?"

There was no answer, and Anya wondered if he was perhaps asleep until a tentative deep voice came around the corner. "Yes?"

"How did you come to be at Wildwood?" She needed something else to think about that was beyond her own troubles.

He did not answer right away, but then he spoke. "I worked on the great ships in my own country since I was a lad. One night a storm took down my ship. With no way back, I settled here."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"It was my fate."

"I'm not sure I believe in fate."

"There is fate as clear as the nose on my face. It blows like the wind and there is naught you can do to stop it," he said slowly.

Anya leaned backwards. "Then was it my fate to become a traitor?"

"It must be."

"Then how is it fair that I might be punished for something I can't change?" Anya asked.

"Life isn't fair. My dead shipmates could tell you that. If war or disease of famine doesn't kill us time will."

Anya sighed. She had had choices. They were just all bad ones. It was a tough world. She lay on the cot quietly for a long time before she finally fell asleep.

* * * * *

Anya woke up to the sound of voices on the other side of the wall. She opened her eyes in time to see Sir Thomas and Jim round the corner along with Samson.

Samson unlocked the door to Anya's cell with a metallic clang. Anya watched motionlessly.

"Come, Miss Smyth," Sir Thomas began.

"My name is Anya Davies, actually," she corrected. There was no point in hiding her identity any longer. Not when the truth was so simple to discover.

"Davies," Jim repeated in a neutral tone that could have meant anything. Anya winced. She could only imagine what he was thinking.

"Miss Davies," Sir Thomas continued. "You must come with us."

Anya felt nervous dread shoot through her. "Where are we going?"

"To speak to Lord Wildwood."

Anya nodded, and stood up. She was glad to leave the little cage, but the idea of going and facing the rest of Wildwood castle was terribly nerve wracking. She did not want to see the looks on anyone's face when they saw her.

Not that she had a choice. Anya followed docilely after Sir Thomas. Jim and the guard followed behind her.