Twenty-seven men and women dressed in black and silver servants’ uniforms stood in a neat row in the throne room. Some trembled, some were soaked with sweat, and all of them stank of fear and looked like they wanted to be anywhere else. In another row, hands clasped behind their backs, wearing blue and silver tabards over mail hauberks, waited thirty guards. They ran the gamut from youths straight out of training to a grizzled sergeant that walked with a limp and had a patchy salt-and-pepper beard.

Jen hadn’t realized how many servants there were in the castle. Some she recognized, like the cook, with her flour-smudged face. No one that made such fantastic food could possibly be a spy. In fact, Jen doubted anyone here was a spy. Whoever stole the artifact was probably miles away by now.

The archmage had agreed when she’d told them about the theft, but she insisted whoever did it might have an accomplice. Everyone would be questioned until she knew the spy had acted alone. At the end of the line Dale Allen fidgeted in his blue robe, his staff of office held loosely in his wrinkled hands. Jen felt bad for the old man. When the archmage had ordered everyone assembled Dale had taken it as a personal failure that one of his people had betrayed the kingdom. Beside him the captain of the guard held himself absolutely rigid, his hand clenching the hilt of his sword so tight she worried the wood might shatter.

“Who’s missing?” Uncle Andy asked.

Dale chewed his lip. “Merik Arcorn, he was in charge of the ovens and keeping us supplied with wood. Holly Linn, one of the chambermaids. Carmen Warren, she was in charge of sewing and linens.”

“I’m missing an entire unit of dungeon guards,” the captain said. “Also Tom Right, who was killed in the vault and Jonathan Linn, one of the regular throne room door guards.”

The archmage spun to face him. “Did you say Linn?”

The captain nodded. “Holly’s his little sister.”

“Hmmm.”

Jen knew how the archmage felt. What were the odds a brother and sister would vanish at the same time as the urn. It also made sense that two people had teamed up to commit the theft. It was a big job for just one person.

A rap sounded on the door and a moment later a Crimson Legionnaire poked his head into the throne room. “We’re ready to begin questioning, Archmage.”

She nodded and servants and guards began filing out. It wouldn’t take fifteen sorcerers long to sort out if any of them were involved. The full twenty would have done it faster, but three members were stationed with the queen and princess in the royal apartment and two more were searching the grounds for the thieves, just in case they hadn’t managed to escape the castle grounds.

When the door slammed shut Uncle Andy said, “You think it’s the brother and sister?”

The archmage shook her head. “I refuse to go into this assuming anything. We’ve made too many assumptions that ended badly. Until I know for certain one way or the other, in my eyes they’re all guilty.”

Jen winced. Talk about harsh.