The knights went quiet. Maude and Rory had twin reactions, both bristling, leaning forward, jaws taut— “I don’t like your tone.” It was the gargoyle who’d spoken. All eyes turned to him. And while his batlike face remained cold, his fingers trilled excitedly behind his back. He was enjoying this. “Swords and armor are nothing to stone. A Diviner has chosen to walk beside the king, and to question her methods is to question Aisling—and thusly the Omens themselves. Is that what you are doing, or is it the altitude that makes you such a mad apple?” Bad apple, I mouthed.
