Donovan tossed his head, and Number Four left the room so silently that Méarana had to check to make sure he was gone.
“I don’t understand,” said Domino Tight, “why the Names have not winkled to other worlds.”
“With what guarantee?” asked Méarana. “The Old Home-Stars may be as happy with Dao Chetty’s fall as they once were with Terra’s. Leap for help and this fight may yet spread.”
Domino Tight shook his head. “Too many stayed to be killed. It cannot all be for love of death.”
The Fudir nodded to Tina Zhi. “Tell them.”
“It’s Technical. They would not understand.”
Méarana, listening from the corner, decided that Tina Zhi did not understand, either. She had learned certain things by rote, nothing more. “You only have a few such devices,” the harper guessed, “and you don’t know how to make more.”
Pyati turned from the window. “I’m afraid,” he announced, and clapped his arms around his body. “I cannot explain it. But a deep, unreasoning fear grips me.”
Magpie Five nodded. “I feel it, too.”
None of the others were brave enough to admit this, but Méarana noted how the Shadows stirred and even Donovan buigh appeared uneasy. She felt it herself: a vague disquiet verging on flight. She shivered and crossed her arms over her shoulders. The air held a cold whiff of peppermint.
She smiled. “Company is coming.”
Oh, indeed, it was. Inner Child noticed that some shadows in the darkling steets below were moving. «Deadly Ones,» he told the others.
“Coming here?” said the Technical Name. “To assassinate me? But I supported the Revolution!”
“How would they know you were here,” the Fudir asked, “and not in a greasy pall of smoke in the air above your Residence? No. Yon Shadows are not coming for you, but for the Vestiges.”
“Well,” said the Technical Name in a stern voice, “they cannot have them. The Gayshot Bo regulates their use.”
“I don’t think they intend to ask your consent.”
Three made an exasperated sound. “Four left the hallway door open when he went to check the roof.”
But the Pedant knew that Four had done so such thing. He flashed the headcount … Still nine. But that meant …
The Fudir sighed. “Greystroke, my old friend. How long have you been standing here?”
The ninth man, garbed in a nondescript shenmat, shrugged. “Long enough to know you may be glad to have me. Rinty?”
Little Hugh emerged from a corner of the room. Like Greystroke, he held a teaser, pointing down. Both stood with their backs to solid walls out of respect for Tina Zhi. Even so, every magpie’s hand dropped to his weapons belt. But Donovan held his hand out to his side with fingers splayed and they froze. Domino Tight, who alone had made no overt move, took advantage of the pause to move a piece in his game with Eglay Portion. His eyes shifted to Little Hugh. “Is Gwillgi with you?”
The answer came with the man as more Hounds entered the room, spacing themselves. Four was with them—not a prisoner, but not looking very happy, either. Bridget ban entered last of all. She always knew how to make an entrance.
The Fudir grinned at her. “What kept you?”
The Red Hound glanced past him, found Tina Zhi. “We are not here as your enemy. We have come for two things only. My daughter—and a glance at your Vestiges.”
“The daughter you may have,” said Tina Zhi. “It was not I who needed her. But to look on the Vestiges is not permitted. The sacred is not for the gawping eyes of the profane; and if I will not permit the approaching Shadows to see them, why would I permit the Hounds?”
“Red Hound,” said Greystroke, with a nod toward the widow. “This may not be the proper time to quarrel.”
Ravn Olafsdottr danced into the room. “Doonoovan, my sweet! How perfect to see you once more! How is your heads holding up?” She crossed to the window, peered out from a corner. “Enemy reach Spring Garden Street,” she said in Manjrin. “Best prepare welcome. Helloo, Doominoo! I kiss you later.” She turned to Bridget ban. “And might I suggest,” she added, “we bury hatchets for time being? Time enough afterward, we bury each other.”
“Who is coming?” the Hound asked.
“Gidula,” said the Fudir, earning Bridget ban’s attention at last. “He has been playing factions against one another. Shadow against Shadow, Shadows against Names. He has a mad dream of restoring the ancient aristocracy of the Lion’s Mouth.”
“Is it so mad as all that?” asked Eglay Portion with a gesture toward the flames. “Better dreams past than nightmares present.”
“How many with him?” the Fudir asked Ravn. “Did you get a count?”
“Did I not tale you that we would be great friends soomday? Today is that happy day! We celebrate later. Gidula has three Shadows with him: Big Jacques, who was with the rebels, and Aynia Farer, and Phoythaw Bhatvik, who was Ekadrina’s adviser. A score of magpies escort them: comets, tridents, lions, and crows. Oh, and they have a Name.”
Donovan looked up. “Which?”
“Secret Name. He who give you bad haircut.”
Despite nine resolutions to the contrary, the Fudir’s hand went to his scalp. “You recognized him?”
“I recognize his golden masque: the all-concealing Sun. He alone is never seen, even by other Names, so he is recognized by not being recognized.” She leaned toward Donovan and added in a stage whisper, “Is why they call him ‘Secret’.”
Donovan turned to the Technical Name. “Could he leap directly into the building?”
Tina Zhi vanished, startling some of the Hounds. An unlooked-for answer, but the Sleuth understood immediately her purpose.
Meanwhile, Donovan had been revising their defensive strategy. Certain things problematical with nine became more achievable with eighteen. “Can we count on you?” he asked Bridget ban. “They will think the building abandoned. The staff minions have fled out through the Red Gate into the Lower City, and the building’s Protectors have been drawn into the fighting. We can take them unaware when they enter.”
“Our orders are to avoid involvement.”
“Yes, but involvement has not avoided you. To stay out of it, you must withdraw; and if you withdraw, you get no glimpse of the Vestiges.”
Bridget ban drew a great breath. “Lackaday. I came for my daughter, an’ I’ll nae place her in danger for the sake of a few prehuman geegaws and baubles. Come wi’ me, Méarana. I’ll summon Grimpen down to the rooftop. He is masqued as an Information Ministry skycar. No one has fired upon them yet, but I’ll nae wait until they do so. Tilly, Greystroke, we’re pulling out.”
The other Hounds hesitated. The harper put on her stubborn look. “I came to rescue Father. I’ll not run off and leave him.”
“The way he ran off and left you on Terra? Show some sense, lassie.”
“Listen to your mother,” Donovan told her. “It’s unlikely all of us will emerge from this fight; less so if the Hounds won’t help.”
Méarana stuck her chin out. “I’m not inexperienced in a fight,” she reminded him.
“This is not a mob of ’Loons or tribesmen from the boonies of Enjrun.”
But the harper crossed her arms and sat back in her chair. “Then you come with me.”
The silence of the Shadows and magpies filled the room. The Fudir glanced at his followers and shrugged. “I have my own duties.” Behind him, Pyati brushed a tear from his cheek.
“Well,” said Matilda of the Night. “Come to that, I came for the geegaws, which is how Black Shuck secured our Kennel authorization. So I ought to stay and hazard the chance.”