As Asta’s eyes followed the movement of the underwater plants, they suddenly alighted on something even more revealing. And suddenly, everything began to make sense. Filled with a fresh surge of hope, she began sliding down toward the pool.
Becoming aware of her movement, Kai turned—just in time to see her slip into the pool. He rose to his feet again. “Are you completely out of your wits?”
Ignoring him, she reached down between the weeds and claimed her prize.
“What is that?” Kai asked. “A souvenir of your near-death experience?”
Asta gazed up at him, smiling softly. “Something like that,” she said.
Asta felt the pressure on her hand—a light squeeze. As she struggled with the seemingly arduous job of opening her eyes, the thing of which she was most aware of was a delicious smell. It made her think of springtime. Eyelids still closed, she smiled—thinking that spring was the very opposite time of year to now. Spring was when things were born; now it was autumn, season of death.
Once more, she felt pressure on her hand and heard a voice. “Try to open your eyes.” She absorbed the words and, though it still took quite some effort to obey, she forced open her eyes.
She saw that she was in her own bedroom, in her uncle’s house. From somewhere she remembered the last thing he’d said to her. “Go upstairs and pack. You will leave first thing…”
Asta saw that it was Elias himself who had squeezed her hand and, even now, kept hold of it. He was sitting close beside her bed, watching her carefully. His face was etched with deep tiredness but there seemed to be no trace of the anger he had displayed when they had last been together. Over his shoulder, on her bedside cabinet, was a jug filled with purple hyacinths. So that was from where the heady smell of spring was emanating.
“Prince Jared brought those for you,” Elias told her now. “Wasn’t that kind?”
Prince Jared had brought her hyacinths? Why would he have done that? Elias gave a gentle nod. She realized he was trying to convey something to her. Feeling a movement, she turned her head and saw that they were not alone. Prince Jared was here too—sitting on the edge of her bed!
“Hello,” he said, smiling at her pleasantly. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, thank you,” she said automatically. “Thank you for the flowers too!”
He grinned. “I’d tell you that I picked them myself on the way over, but I’m afraid that would be a small lie.”
“That’s all right,” she said. “It’s the thought that counts.” She pushed back the bedclothes. “I’m really warm,” she said, distractedly.
She saw Prince Jared look past her toward Elias, his deep brown eyes wide with concern.
“Your temperature may be affected by your dip in the river,” Elias told her. “By all accounts, you weren’t in there for long, but the cold must have gotten to you.”
His words brought it all back to her. Standing on the bridge, looking down the river. Slipping off her shoes. Wading out into the water. Feeling the undertow tug at her legs. The moment that the current began to take her downstream. The exhilaration. And then the fear. And Kai’s rescue.
She frowned again. “If the cold got to me, shouldn’t I be feeling cold rather than so warm?”
Elias shook his head. “It doesn’t necessarily work like that,” he said. “But I can give you some medicine. With that and rest, you should be back to normal in a short time. You’re young and robust—thanks be to heaven!”
Asta was taken aback. It was the first time she had heard her uncle make any kind of religious pronouncement.
“Why on earth did you jump in the river?” Prince Jared now asked her. “You must have known how dangerous it was… after what happened to Silva.”
Asta met the Prince’s troubled gaze. “I needed to know the truth,” she said. “The truth is important to me. As I know it is to you.”
He nodded, smiling softly, complicity at her.
For the first time, it occurred to her what a strange set of circumstances this was—to awake in her tiny, messy bedroom and have the new Prince sitting there on her bed. A strange situation made all the more weird by having her uncle in attendance.
Suddenly, she thought back to their earlier argument. “You told me you were sending me away,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically tremulous with hurt as she peered up at her uncle from her pillows.
Elias winced at these words, trying but failing to find the right words to respond.
“That’s not going to happen,” Prince Jared stepped in. “While you have been sleeping, your uncle and I have had a good opportunity to talk.”
“The Prince has told me how invaluable your help has been in investigating Prince Anders’s death,” Elias told her. “You have made me proud, Asta.”
It was such a shock to hear those words. He’d never told her that before. “Proud but also rather anxious.”
Asta still said nothing but took the opportunity to give her uncle’s hand a squeeze.
“You do seem to have a reckless side to you,” Prince Jared said. “Jumping from bridges and so on.”
Asta shook her head. “I didn’t jump from the bridge, actually. I waded out into the water from the riverbank.”
“You wanted to retrace Silva’s final journey,” Jared said.
“No,” she corrected him again. “I wanted to prove that it was impossible for Silva to have died in the way it was set up to make us believe.”
Jared nodded encouragingly. “I think you had better share your latest findings with us, don’t you?”
Pleased by the request, Asta pushed herself upright. Elias reached over and helpfully plumped up the pillows behind her. All ready, she began to fill them in.
“As you know, the key to Prince Anders’s bathing house was discovered at the bridge,” Asta reminded them. “So the guards assumed, naturally enough, that Silva either fell, or jumped, from the bridge. We know how unstable she has been these past few days. It is all too easy to believe that she could have had a terrible accident, or taken the decision to end her own life.” She paused.
“I’m guessing you have different ideas about what happened,” Prince Jared prompted her.
Asta nodded. “I’m sure that she was murdered.” She glanced at Elias. “Our postmortem, in addition to my own last encounter with her, convinced me of that.” Eyes back toward Jared. “I went down to the river in search of proof. The first place I visited was the shallow pool where Silva’s body was found. Supposedly, she was carried by the river from beneath the bridge into this pool, picking up the fractures to her head as she was crushed against the rocks and either drowning on the way or in the pool itself.” She paused, suddenly finding her voice hoarse and dry.
“Here,” Elias said, offering a glass to her lips. “Drink some water.”
Asta gratefully took a sip. “Thank you.” She took her mind back to the riverbank. “I watched the river channel for some time. I could see that it was impossible for Silva’s body to have gone on that particular journey. Whoever set up the scene to look that way did not think it through thoroughly. The current is too strong on the right-hand side of the river. It forces everything it carries down to the right-hand side of the ridge of rocks, away from the shallow pool and down into the rapids. It doesn’t matter whether it is the branch of a tree or a human body; there is only one direction in which the river will carry it.”
Prince Jared frowned. “So you knew this, but you still put yourself in certain danger, knowing that you, like Silva, would be swept away on the current. That’s the part I don’t understand.”
“I’m a strong swimmer,” Asta said defensively. “I had every reason to think I would be all right. I had my wits about me. My mental state was entirely different from Silva’s.”
“All the same, you were both swept away by the same current.”
“No,” Asta rejoined. “That’s my point. Silva was not swept away on any current. She cannot have entered the river at the bridge. The o
nly reason we even think she did is because someone put the key there, to mislead us. And I can’t help thinking that whoever did that, and whoever killed Silva, also burned down the bathing house. In many ways, it was a remarkably efficient execution. The killer really only made one mistake.”
“You seem very sure that Silva was murdered,” Elias spoke now.
“I am,” Asta said. Dimly, she remembered the piece of evidence she had plucked from between the weeds. Where was it? She looked at her bedside table, but there was no room for it there, not with the jug of flowers. She glanced across to her dressing table but she could see that it wasn’t over there either. She felt a cold panic. Had she lost it? Had someone taken it from her? Or had she only imagined that she had brought it with her? Everything hinged on it.
“Looking for something?” Elias asked her now.
She nodded. “I brought something with me from the shallow pool.”
“Yes, rather a curious object.” He smiled. “You were clutching it very tightly so I knew it must be important. I stowed it away, to keep it safe.” Now Elias opened the door to her bedside table and Asta watched with relief as he removed a stone and placed it, smooth side down, in her hand.
“This is what killed Silva,” Asta told them both. She leaned forward and offered the stone to Prince Jared, who took it and weighed it in his hands.
“One of the most noticeable things about the shallow pool where Silva was found is that all the pebbles there are incredibly smooth,” Asta told him. “All except this one. Look how smooth it is, except for the four spikes on one side, where it has broken in half.” She turned to Elias. “I’m convinced that these will match the four incisions on Silva’s skull.”
“So you’re saying Silva didn’t drown at all?” Prince Jared said. “Someone clubbed her to death with this stone?”
“There was water in her lungs,” Elias informed him. “But it might have been a close run thing between death from blood loss through the head wounds and death by drowning. Assuming the stone fits as well as Asta surmises.”
“Let’s see!” Asta said, flushed with a fresh surge of energy. “Uncle Elias, can we go down to the Ice Chamber and see if the spikes match up with Silva’s wounds?”
Elias considered her suggestion, then nodded. “If you feel up to it. But your temperature is fluctuating. I’m not sure it’s wise to go down there where it’s so cold”
“I have to see this investigation through to the end,” Asta asserted.
“Yes,” Prince Jared nodded. “You’ve more than earned that right.”
“All right,” Elias agreed. “So long as you wrap up warm against the chill.”
Asta felt a bit pathetic as the two men helped her up from the bed, Jared waited outside while Elias wrapped a heavy blanket around her. Then, the three of them made their way down through the Physician’s house into his surgery and on toward the locked door that led down to the Ice Chamber below.
Elias unlocked the door and continued on his way. Asta felt Prince Jared gently squeeze her arm. “Asta,” he whispered—it was strangely thrilling to hear him speak her name. “You showed such rare bravery today. I’m in your debt.”
“Anyone would have done the same,” she said softly. Nonetheless, she flushed with pleasure at his words.
As Elias lit the candles and the interior of the Ice Chamber came into light, Silva’s body was revealed, under its shroud on the central slab. Elias moved toward it and folded down the sheet, exposing the corpse’s head, neck and shoulders. Silva’s head was still resting on its left side—the four puncture wounds clearly exposed.
Asta saw that Prince Jared, seeing these for the first time, winced. “Poor Silva,” he said, shaking his head.
The three of them clustered around the top end of the slab. Elias turned to Prince Jared. “Do you have the stone?” he asked.
“Yes,” Jared said. He weighed it again in his hand for a moment, then placed the smooth side of the stone in the palm of Asta’s hands. His intent was clear. Barely able to breathe, Asta lifted the stone carefully toward Silva’s skull.
“You need to turn it a little clockwise,” Elias told her.
She did so.
“Now, back again, just a fraction.”
As Asta brought the flinty points to just above Silva’s head, they rested directly above the four wounds. Her heart began to race. “It’s a perfect fit. So now we know for sure… I’m holding the weapon the assassin used on her.”
“No.” Elias shook his head. “It’s a compelling explanation, I grant you. But we cannot be sure about this.”
Ever the scientist, Asta thought. Always weighing his words so carefully. But, whatever caution her uncle espoused, Asta knew it was true. She knew it not only in her head but also in her gut—as if Silva had risen from the riverbed and told them herself the story of her death. Asta felt hot tears budding in her eyes, and was unsure as to whether it was out of sadness for the brutal end of Silva’s wretched life or simply relief that her own ordeal had paid off.
Prince Jared let out a breath. “So, tell me then, how exactly do we think my sister-in-law was killed?”
“You can see the bruising on her shoulders,” Elias said, pointing. “My initial assumption was that those bruises were sustained as she was buffeted along the river channel. But now I’m inclined to think these bruises were caused by the assassin’s own hands—I believe the two of them must have struggled.”
“I agree,” Asta said. “I believe the murderer intended to drown Silva and perhaps thought it would be a straightforward murder. She was a petite woman so it would have been easy to underestimate her strength.”
Elias nodded. “Even the most seemingly fragile people may draw on inner resources we cannot fathom in their fight to cling to life.”
“And so Silva’s murderer reached for this stone in order to finish her off?” Jared said. “If that is the case, I don’t understand why they didn’t do a better job of getting rid of the evidence.”
“I’ve been pondering that too,” Asta said. “The murderer had a lot to do at that point, to set up the scene as if it were a suicide or horrific accident. I’m sure they had intended to get rid of the stone, but probably they ran out of time.”
“Why didn’t they just take it with them?” Jared asked.
“They could hardly have afforded to have it discovered in their possession,” Asta said. “And the further it was from the river, the more suspicious that stone would seem. Besides, it is smooth on one side. They may have turned it under the water, thinking that no one would notice. Silva’s blood would have been washed off it. It was only luck really that I happened to see it through the weeds. The pool is very tranquil but there is still a gentle current at work there.”
Prince Jared shook his head. “I don’t think that was luck, Asta,” he said. “I’m starting to think you have a rare knack for this kind of thing.”
“I’m inclined to agree,” Elias said, a distinct note of pride to his voice.
Asta’s mind was already awash with fresh questions. “What we need to think about now is who might have killed Silva. And how is this murder is connected to that of Prince Anders? It is looking to me less and less like a politically motivated assassination and more of a crime of passion. Don’t you think?”
Elias looked blankly at his niece. She realized he was still missing some crucial information.
Jared frowned. “I feel so bad that we thought Silva herself might have been my brother’s killer.”
Asta shook her head. “Don’t feel bad,” she said. “And don’t be so quick to dispatch that thought. It is still a possibility that Silva killed your brother. She could have murdered him and then been murdered by his lover in a revenge attack.”
“His lover?” echoed Elias, clearly shocked at the talk, the information.
“My brother was involved with another woman,” Jared told him frankly. “But we don’t know who yet.”
“We have to renew our efforts to find out who
it was,” Asta said. “At the very least, she will be able to shed light on a hidden part of Prince Anders’s life.” She paused, letting out a soft sigh. “At worst, she’s the one we’re looking for.”
Jared nodded, his face dark and troubled.
It was Elias who spoke next. “If Prince Anders was conducting an extramarital affair between the palace and the fjord, then it must have been with a woman of rank—either a royal or a member of the Twelve.”
“I agree,” Prince Jared said. “Those are the only people who could have passed by the various teams of guards, without questions being raised.”
“All right,” Asta said. “Well, that certainly reduces the possible suspects. I think we should start drawing up a list of names, don’t you?”
Elias let out a sudden sneeze, swiftly followed by another. He drew the shroud back over Silva’s broken head. “Let us return upstairs,” he said. “It’s too cold to think down here. And it doesn’t seem right to me, continuing this conversation in Silva’s presence.”
THIRTY
The Captain of the Guard’s
Office, the Palace
PRINCE JARED SAT PATIENTLY ON THE OPPOSITE side of the desk to axel as his cousin took the time he required to process all the new information he had just been told.
Jared reflected on his decision to come to the Captain of the Guard’s office for this meeting, rather than summoning Axel to his own quarters. He had wanted to make a gesture of conciliation. He smiled to himself—four days in the close company of the psychologically astute Logan Wilde appeared to be rubbing off on him.
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