There was something pleasantly domestic about unpacking together, like we were going on vacation or moving in together for real, not just through slow osmosis. I liked it.
“I hope I was not too forward before, in introducing myself as your betrothed,” said Tybalt, hanging a pair of his ubiquitous leather trousers over the rod at the center of the wardrobe. “He would have separated us had I not, claiming that it was in recognition of my ‘status’ within the Divided Courts. I could not allow that to happen.”
I gave him a sidelong look. “What, do you think I’m ashamed of you or something?”
“No.” He looked amused. “I know you well enough to find it much more likely that you would declare yourself unworthy of my unstinting affections, and attempt to part yourself from me ‘for my own good.’ At which point, I assure you, I would follow you about like a lost kitten until you came back to your senses. It is simply that our alliance may not be advantageous for you in all political arenas.”
“And won’t that be fun for them to deal with after we’re married?” I asked. “If you’re a political liability, let’s elope. Get me out of this gig even faster.”
“Get a room,” called Quentin.
“Shut your door,” I called back. I hung the last of my dresses and stepped back, eyeing the wardrobe like it was a venomous snake. It brimmed with gowns I couldn’t fight in and shoes I didn’t want to wear, and I didn’t have a choice about any of this. Arden had sent me to fight for her on a battlefield I didn’t understand and couldn’t twist to my own advantage.
Or maybe I could. I fished my cellphone out of my pocket as I took another step back, bumping my thighs against the overstuffed mattress. I sat down, dialed, and waited.
I didn’t have to wait long. There was a click midway through the first ring, and the familiar, slightly artificial-sounding voice of April O’Leary, Countess of Tamed Lightning, came on the line with a “You do not call me often. Is something wrong?”
“Maybe,” I said. “Probably. Okay, yes. And hello to you, too.” April was originally a Dryad, before her adopted mother—the late Countess January O’Leary—spliced her tree into a computer server to save her life. I didn’t really understand it, but the process had worked, resulting in April becoming the world’s first cybernetic tree spirit. Her grasp of social niceties wasn’t the best, which was something she shared with her Dryad relatives: most of them spent more time with trees than they did with people, and they didn’t necessarily know how to make conversation about things that didn’t photosynthesize. April was willing to fake pleasantries with people she didn’t know. She rarely bothered with her friends.
“What is wrong? Is this related to the notice I received from Queen Windermere that a war was being beta-tested, and might be cleared for release? I do not have time to allow my coders to be slaughtered. It seems very inefficient.”
Leave it to April to get right to the heart of things. “I’ve been sent to the Kingdom of Silences as a diplomat, because Arden wants to skip the whole ‘war’ thing if possible.”
“Oh.” April hesitated before asking, “Are you the most qualified for this assignment?”
“Nope, but neither is anybody else, so we’re faking it,” I said. “Anyway, we’re in the royal knowe of Silences, and we think we may be being listened in on. Any ideas about what we could do about that?”
“Why do you ask me?”
“You live in a magic electrical network. I thought it was worth a try.”
“I see.” There was a pause. Then April said: “Please put your phone down and cover your ears. Do not hang up.”
“Got it.” I dropped the phone on the bed and stood, moving away. “Everybody cover your ears,” I said, following my own instructions. Tybalt glanced at me, looking confused, but clapped his hands over his ears anyway.
Good for him: almost at the same time, my phone began to emit a high-pitched screeching sound that made my teeth hurt as it resonated through my skull. Spike hissed and ran into the wardrobe. Quentin slammed the door to his bedchamber. The door to the master bedroom slammed open as May and Walther piled through, both of them trying to cover their ears and get inside at the same time. I mouthed “sorry” at them, but didn’t try to speak. The noise April was somehow generating would have prevented them from hearing me, anyway.
The sound lasted for no more than thirty seconds before cutting off as abruptly as it had started, leaving the faint smell of ozone hanging in the air. I cautiously uncovered my ears. When the screeching didn’t resume, I leaned over and picked up the phone again. “April?”
“No one is listening to you now,” she said serenely.
“Yeah, because if they were, they’re probably deaf,” I said. “What did you do?”
“Countersurveillance charm. We use them internally to prevent leaks from inside the company to competing firms. Elliot says I am perhaps overly cautious, but I prefer to think of myself as profit-oriented.” April’s County was also a working computer programming company. I wasn’t clear on exactly what they did to make their money, and I didn’t really want to know. “Any charms or spells designed to record or transmit the things said within the room you currently inhabit have been suspended for a period of no more than twenty-four hours. If the charms are self-renewing, they will reassert themselves at sunrise, and you will need to either call me again or find another avenue.”
I paused, trying to work my way through the complicated twists of April’s vocabulary. Then I said, “So no one can hear us in this room?”
“Correct. Please come visit me after you have prevented this war. I have missed your company, and the company of your associates. My remaining mother sends her regards.” April said the last as if by rote, and I had no doubt that Li Qin, January’s widow, had in fact told her daughter that whenever I happened to call, I should be given her regards.
“Tell Li Qin hi,” I said, unable to keep myself from smiling. “Open roads, April.”
“Good-bye,” she said, and hung up.
I lowered the phone, turning to the others. Walther and May were still standing by the door, looking shaken and disheveled. “Okay, first, close that,” I said. They did, although May’s expression turned dangerously mulish. If I didn’t explain myself soon, I was going to be in a world of trouble. “I’m sorry about the loud noise. April didn’t exactly explain what she was going to do.”
“You called April?” asked May, her frown melting first into confusion, and then understanding. “Did she clear up the listening devices in here?”
“She says she used a countersurveillance charm, and since I know nothing about that sort of magic, I put it to all of you: do we trust that it worked? April says we can talk freely in this room for the next day.”
“I think that if we’re being spied on—which we almost certainly are—then King Rhys will be smart enough not to let us know right away,” said Walther slowly. “Coming in here to recast his charms would be a giveaway.”
“I trust April,” said Quentin, cautiously pushing his door open and sticking his head into the room. “She does stuff no one else does, mostly because we’re all made of meat, so we don’t think the way she does. I know she’s paranoid about security, and if she says the charm works, the charm works.”
“May? Tybalt?”
“I trust her,” said May.
“I’m playing the game of your politics for the sake of peace and nothing more,” said Tybalt. “If there’s any challenge that could cause us harm, I’ll have the lot of us onto the Shadow Roads before a single blow can strike home.”
“Then we’re trusting her. All right.” I turned to Walther. “What do you mean, she’s your sister?”
May, who hadn’t seen the note, looked confused. Walther just sighed. “I mean exactly what I said. Marlis is my older sister. We have the same parents. My father’s brother married the old Queen of Silences when she was still the Princess, and their son, Torsten, was heir to the throne when the war happened. Marlis and I were never in the line of succession—if anything happened to Torsten or his mother, the throne would have either gone to his mother’s brother, or back to his grandmother, who had stepped down after her daughter came of age. I knew Marlis hadn’t made it out of Silences after the war, but I thought she’d been elf-shot, not pressed into service for the new King. The fact that she’s his seneschal is . . . worrisome. He shouldn’t trust her this much.”