“She’s what?” Torn’s shout was enough to make me drop the folded blankets I was carrying.
“Must you be so loud?” Hana responded in a hushed voice. “What if she hears you?”
“It’s Syra all over again!” Torn fumed. “He’s just like his father! No respect for tradition!”
“After all this time, can’t you let that go? Tradition has already cost us a son, as well as a grandson. Isn’t that enough? And frankly, he could do a great deal worse, if you ask me.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” I said as I opened the door to Octavia’s room.
Torn and Hana spun about in guilty surprise, like children caught raiding the cookie jar. “I told you to mind your voice!” Hana hissed.
“You’re Hexe’s other set of grandparents, aren’t you?”
“So you’re finally figuring that out,” Scratch sneered as he strolled into the room. “Will wonders never cease?”
“Yes, it’s true,” Hana admitted. “Horn is our son.”
“Was our son,” Torn interjected stiffly. “I disowned him when I discovered what he’d done. Our family has served the heirs of Adon for countless generations—but he disobeyed the one rule all Servitors must obey: no fraternization. Of course, Lord Eben had to let him go when they discovered the truth, severing a tradition of service that stretched back to the sinking of the spires! He dishonored his family, disgraced his lineage . . . he’s brought nothing but shame on us.”
“But Horn’s the captain of the PTU!” I interjected. “He’s one of the most important people in Golgotham!”
“His place was to serve!” Torn shot back angrily. “Just as I served, and my father before me, and his father before him!”
“But he does serve—except now his duty is to all of Golgotham, not just the Royal Family,” I pointed out.
“The girl’s right, you old grump,” Hana said, folding her arms over her sagging breasts. “I’ve tolerated this grudge against our son long enough! Besides, it’s not like you don’t have a scrapbook of newspaper clippings detailing every arrest he’s ever made and promotion he’s received.”
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth about who you are?” I asked.
“Force of habit, I suppose,” Torn sighed. “The only way we were allowed to be a part of Hexe’s life was if we never revealed the true nature of our relationship to him. Lord Eben made us swear an oath of secrecy. Should we break it, we would be banished from Golgotham.”
“Ugh. How awful! That must have been difficult for you.”
“Yes, but we got used to it,” Hana said as she took her husband’s hand in hers. “At least we had access to our grandson when he was young, even if we couldn’t tell him who we were. That all changed when Lord Eben died and Lady Syra became the Witch Queen. Once we were pensioned off, we were no longer able to see Hexe on a regular basis. Oh, Lady Syra would send us snapshots now and then, but that’s not the same. The last time we actually laid eyes on him was at Lady Lyra’s funeral, fifteen years ago. He was already growing into a fine young man.”
“I don’t understand—why have you kept your distance for so long? Lord Eben was the one who swore you to secrecy, not Lady Syra. Why not come forward once the old Witch King was dead?”
“The boy had enough trouble being accepted by the Aristocracy without his calling the family butler and cook grandpa and grandma,” Torn replied sourly. “A lot of things have changed in Golgotham since I was a lad—but not everything.”
After bidding Torn and Hana good night, I checked my cell phone to see if I had missed any messages from Hexe. Zilch. I tried calling him again, only to be informed by a polite, if robotic voice, that “this phone’s subscriber was currently unavailable” after the first ring. It occurred to me that if I wanted to talk to Hexe, I was going to have to wait up for him.
I took a spare blanket and made myself a nest on the sofa in the front parlor. Beanie promptly joined me, snuggling in tight between my hip and the sofa cushions as I read the copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting Nessie had given me. Despite my best intentions, I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew the sound of the front door closing startled me awake.
“What are you doing down here?” Hexe asked, sounding more surprised than pleased to see me. The smell of barley wine and cigarette smoke clung to him like perfume. No doubt he had rounded off the evening by stopping in at the Calf and claiming his fair share of free drinks.
“Waiting for you.” I yawned. “I’ve got some big news. I tried calling you earlier, but you didn’t pick up. Why didn’t you call me back?”
“My phone lost its charge,” he replied with a shrug.
As I got off the couch to greet him, I noticed for the first time that his right eye sported a nice new shiner. “Heavens and hells! What happened?”
“I got jumped by a couple of unrulies,” he replied bitterly.
“What for?”
“Because I’m walking around wearing the equivalent of five solid gold Rolexes,” he explained, holding up his gauntleted right hand.
“You need to get an ice pack on that,” I said, steering him toward the back of the house. As Hexe took his place at the kitchen table, I removed a bag of frozen vegetables from the freezer and wrapped it in a dish towel. “Here—put that over your eye,” I said, holding it out to him. Hexe did as he was instructed, wincing slightly as the ice-cold compress touched his face. “It’s not magic, but it’ll work.”
“So—what did you have to tell me that was so important?” Hexe asked.
“Canterbury offered to make me a partner in his business today.”
Hexe perked up upon hearing this news. “Does that mean you’re getting a raise?”
“I suppose so,” I replied. “We haven’t really hammered out the details yet. But it does mean my job is secure. He took me to lunch to talk it over, and on the way back we passed the Machen Arms—except now it’s GolgothamVue—just as Ronnie Chess was evicting this old couple. I saw Octavia trying to help them and stopped to see what was going on—well, long story short, they’re staying here until their new apartment is ready. It shouldn’t be more than a few days.”
“How much are you charging them?”
My smile suddenly faltered. “Huh?”
“We’re in no position to hand out charity right now. We’ve got bills to pay. Anyone who stays under my roof is using electricity and water, and they’re eating our food. You are charging them rent, aren’t you?”
“It never even crossed my mind,” I admitted. “I mean, Octavia’s already paying for her room. I just assumed—”
“Of course it didn’t cross your mind,” he snapped, tossing aside the makeshift ice pack. “Why should you care, after all? It’s not your name on the utility bills, is it?”
“Are you serious?” I asked, suddenly feeling as disoriented and off-balance as a sleepwalker who has awakened to find herself standing in the middle of someone else’s house. Within a heartbeat everything I had imagined safe and familiar had turned hostile and alien, and I was at a loss at how to change it back.