* Please tell me I'm hallucinating. Surely, I could not have heard you say we would rescue the king from the palace that the Regent controls, now filled with her creatures and sycophants. Do we even know for sure he's alive? *

"He was alive just a few hours ago," Cat said with his authoritative voice. He didn't use it often, but when he did, you did not doubt that Cat was a person in charge, confident in his orders and leadership.

* You used Queen Margo's gift.* It was a statement, not a question. * How is the king?*

The expression on Cat's face was a cross between grim and infuriated: "Not well. I watched him wake up. A valet or attendant came and fed him. He seemed hungry but disoriented. He wanted to get out of bed. He demanded to know what day it was. He wanted to see his children. He ordered the servant to get his clothes because he wanted to visit with his ministers. The servant told him he had to take his medicine first and gave him something to drink. He calmed down after that but seemed to lose all knowledge of who he was and where he was. When he was more biddable, the servant gave him a bath, shaved him, and put him back into his bed.

"He was gaunt. There's no muscle on him and his cheeks are sunken in. I could see his ribs through his skin. Once he was back in bed, a man wearing the black and emerald robes of a court mage entered the room. He asked the servant how the patient was doing and the servant said the king was more alert this morning and he had to sedate him again. Then the mage cast befuddlement followed by the spell for a miasma of fear with an extra clause to extend the spell."

"Was he an older man, white hair cut short, about my height, grey eyes, with a vertical scar on his forehead?" Duke Sven asked.

"Yes, that sounds right," Cat scowled. "You know this person?"

"He's Magus Keleher and Griselda's left-hand fiend. He replaced Master Edmund the Fair as court mage two and a half years ago."

"Where did Master Edmund go?"

"He disappeared, Cat, and remains missing to this day," the Duke said with an interesting bite to his words.

"Is there anyone left from my father's court at the palace?" Cat demanded.

"The laundresses, the gardeners, the spit boys and scullery girls, the musicians, the grooms, and stable boys, and the charwomen. But of the people who got things done, no one is left, not even me. The Regent has replaced everyone. Those who complained too loudly either vanished for no reason or fell ill and died."

Cat smiled that innocent smile he has when he's plotting something malevolent: "I would not label the palace staff as people who don't get things done, Uncle. They move silently and unnoticed through our world. Without them, the miniature universe of the palace would stop functioning. They notice everything that happens and communicate to each other the results of any random privy council meeting ten minutes before it adjourns. Don't overlook them as an asset we can use."

"But they can't do anything," Duke Sven protested.

Cat's smile deepened.

* I know that face. What evil are you contemplating this time, Cat? *

"Evil? My nephew?" Sven was incredulous.

* Let's see. My favorite is when Cat cast the spell of one thousand unseen bites on Blue Fox's and Golden Trout's sheets. It's a lovely spell. Cat set it up to start at midnight. The recipient feels the bite of a flea but there is no bug to be seen. Then there's another bite, then another, and so on. The spell vanishes after one thousand bites. There are no insects to find and no amount of anti-bug potion can stop the spell. *

"Why Blue Fox? He seems to be a decent fellow," Sven frowned.

* He used to be the biggest bully in the Greenwood. Cat and Owl were two of his victims. One day, a year or more in the past, Cat got fed up and enchanted all of Fox's hosen to make them into charms for the prevention of geriatric constipation. *

The Duke groaned, "I have a feeling I know where this is going."

* Cat invented a wonderful little spell that sends a thunderstorm or blizzard over one's victims. It can be scaled from a small personal storm to as large as an army. You should ask Wren about it. She's the one who has suffered from it the most. It's such a useful spell that King Storm Eagle has made all his war mages learn it for use in the field. Oh, yes, I nearly forgot: when the storm is small enough, it will follow its victim inside. It lasts two weeks or whenever the mage dismantles the spell, whichever comes first. Another mage can't undo it. Now imagine the Regent with a two-week-long personal snowstorm over her head that follows her everywhere, even to bed. *

"Uncle, employment of spells like these is a form of terrorism," Cat's smile achieved an even deeper level of innocence. "Recruiting key people on the palace payroll can greatly facilitate this sort of warfare. Don't look down your aristocratic nose at the commoners who make your bed and clean your clothes. We don't want an armed conflict. We want to get a sick man out of the palace. Given the Regent's nature, I'm sure that are many on the staff who might be of help to us."

The Duke was incredulous: "And how are we going to identify and locate all those willing helpers when we, the royal family, can't even visit the King in his bedroom?"

The smiling Cat Rider opened his shoulder bag and pulled out the bag with the crystal ball and removed the silk-wrapped, "we merely need to do a little spying."