“Tell your master, dog,” Oberis continued icily, his gaze still locked on Percy, “that the least I will accept is the beginnings of a good-faith effort to dissolve the Enforcers—and the surrender of Gerard Winters to the Clans’ justice.
“Now get out,” he ordered. “You were here to bear witness, and you have borne witness; now leave this to the friends of the fallen—not those who have marked themselves their enemies!”
WITH THE CREMATION complete and the Enforcers evicted from the chapel, the silence in the hall was unbroken for what seemed like forever. After what was probably less than a minute, however, Dave and Elena’s father directed everyone up to the top level, where a few gestures from Oberis folded tables down from the walls and spread white tablecloths over them. Several refrigerators that I had missed in the darkness were opened up, and several tables of drinks and appetizers quickly took form under the swift ministrations of a few fluttering pixies, glowing slightly in the still somewhat dim light of the hall.
Leaning as discreetly on Mary as I could, I followed the crowd up to join the wake. With the massive balefire in the center, the hall was not merely warm but hot. It took a conscious effort of will, given my current abused state, to keep myself from stripping off clothing and showing weakness in front of the Court.
It was almost as much of an effort not to glare at Oberis as the fae lord nodded genteelly to me. He walked with the Cunninghams, his attention for the day clearly focused on the parents of those who’d fallen in his service.
Mary gently but pointedly guided me to a table with food on it. I took the hint and slowly began loading up a plate. After I started to eat, Mary grabbed a plate of her own and began to take food. As I ate, I surveyed the hall and the crowd gathered.
The group of shifters mostly kept to themselves, though several of the fae who clearly knew them stopped by and stayed for a few minutes each. Even in this united Court, I could see clear dividing lines among the fae—Seelie clustered with Seelie, Unseelie with Unseelie. There were other groupings, but that was the clearest and most obvious, marked to my eyes at least by the groups Laurie and Talus each moved in—the hag an Unseelie, the noble a Seelie.
Talus spotted me looking over at him and appeared to excuse himself from the conversation and head my way. I sighed inwardly—after Laurie and Oberis, Talus was probably the person I least wanted to deal with of everyone here. While I doubted he’d known of Oberis’s order, he still stood at the right hand of a man who’d ordered me beaten.
Nonetheless, in every other way, he was a man I’d normally regard as a friend, so I didn’t quite have it in me to be rude and turn him away as he came to join me. He smiled at Mary and started grabbing a plate of food.
“I wanted to thank you again,” he said quietly. “There is no doubt your warning and help saved Robert’s life. I owe you.”
I shifted uncomfortably. I’d shared this man’s thoughts, knew what barriers lay against him acknowledging his son. I couldn’t know that and not act to help.
“It was nothing,” I told him.
“Hardly,” the noble said dryly. “But you should also know—Robert healed far faster than Lacombe expected, and Lacombe knows our kind very well. He has begun to manifest the powers of a noble fae, and questions have been asked in Court that I could not avoid. I have officially acknowledged him as my son.”
There was pain in his words. I couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to have that kind of intensely personal moment and admission forced before the body of the Court, both Seelie and Unseelie. Taking into account the fact that fae nobility weren’t supposed to breed outside the nobility, it could not have been an easy day.
“How did he take it?” I asked when Mary squeezed my hand after a moment of silence.
“Not...well,” Talus said simply, and there was more pain in his voice. “He understands, I think, but he is very, very angry with me. I understand that, and he understands why I had to keep it secret, so I think we will work out our relationship over time.”
“It will just be painful for a while,” I said sympathetically.
“My uncle has had to punish me for public consumption,” Talus told me, his voice still quiet. “I am being at least temporarily exiled from Calgary—I am to return to Fort McMurray and my duties there, with no permission to return to the city for some time.”
Well, at least I wasn’t the only one Oberis seemed to feel obliged to punish beyond all reason. I squeezed Mary’s hand in turn and eyed the fae noble.
“Are you going to be okay?” I asked him.
He nodded, and there was something...odd about his eyes. He didn’t look nearly upset enough for what he’d just told me. He was being punished because something his uncle had already known had become public—I would have expected him to be far angrier.
“I have to leave first thing in the morning,” he told me and Mary. “Would you two do the honor of joining me for dinner tonight? I would enjoy less...prejudicial company than I’ve had recently.”
“I smell a rat,” I told him bluntly. “What’s on your mind?”
Talus glanced around him quickly.
“I want you to meet someone,” he explained. “I’ll tell you more at dinner—mostly, I do just want company.”
I was pretty sure he still wasn’t telling me the whole truth, but something in his face warned me it was better not to ask there.
“All right, where?”
“The Stadium Park Steakhouse,” he told me, and then gave quick directions. “I’ve reserved a table for four.” He glanced around the wake. “I have to go be social. I will see you tonight at seven.”
With that, he parted, leaving Mary and I to look at each other in concern.
“He’s not telling us everything,” I whispered to her.
“I don’t think it’s dangerous,” she replied, and I nodded in agreement.
“I guess we’ll find out tonight.”
22
“TONIGHT” wasn’t a whole lot later. The wake for the Cunninghams lasted until just after six, at which point it was a rush for us to get across town to the restaurant in time. While we’d been closed up in the stifling hot ceremony hall, it had started to snow again outside and traffic had crawled to a standstill.
We made it to the restaurant shortly before seven and found ourselves facing a crowded line. Even on a Monday night, the restaurant was packed this close to the holiday season. I managed to squeeze through the crowd.
“We’re meeting a man named Talus,” I told the hostess. “He said he had a reservation; I don’t know if he’s here yet.”
The elegantly dressed, cleavage-exposing, clearly underage brunette at the little podium checked her list, read something, and visibly swallowed.
“If you can come with me, please?” she asked, her voice somewhat shaky. “I’ll take you to your table.”
I was going to ask just what was wrong, but she took off almost before she was finished talking. I traded looks with Mary and shrugged, then followed the girl. She led us expertly through the dimly lit restaurant and around a large gas-fed fire pit in the middle of the restaurant to a door tucked away in a corner.
She opened the door and gestured through.
“Your reservation is in the private room, sir, ma’am,” the girl said, standing aside to let us in.
“Thank you,” I gave her a tentative smile and then entered the private room with Mary one step behind me.
The room on the other side was paneled in aged oak and held a single large conference table that looked older than the building. All of the furniture and decorations were to a far higher standard than the outside, and the chairs looked luxuriously soft under their leather coverings.