“Rival? We’re talking about a bird, right? How can a beloved pet be a rival for the love of a woman?”
“Have you met Lord Aaron?”
“Yes, I . . . oh. Point taken.” Despair filled the pit of my stomach when I considered what an enraged Constance might have done. “She would have wanted that bird to fly away. Far away from her and her cats.”
“That’s a safe line of reasoning.”
I watched the apothecary for a few moments, feeling utterly lost. If the bird had been set free in the mortal world, she could be anywhere now . . . assuming she had survived all the centuries. “Thanks so much for your help.”
He waved a gnarled hand in farewell. A glance at the red and gray sky overhead warned that I had little time to spend trying to round up my mothers, but I was loath to let them stay there unprotected. I just hoped that Gregory had managed to do something with Irv and Frankie . . . and that annoying Death’s minion.
I compromised by warning my mothers to stay in their tent, and then racing across the stream just in time to meet Master Hamo, who looked pointedly at a sundial set near the practice ring.
“Sorry. Was checking on my mothers.” I pulled out my sword. “I hope we’re going to learn a way to take down someone quickly, because I know a couple of guys that I might have to use that on if my boyfriend doesn’t take care of them.”
Master Hamo raised his eyebrows, but simply said, “I don’t believe you are ready for more advanced attacks, but I can show you a couple of simple yet effective moves that have served me well.”
The next hour and a half was spent learning. I had to admire Master Hamo—no matter how many times I ended up in the dirt, he always helped me up and patiently explained what I’d done wrong. By the time my lesson was over, I was bruised but victorious. For the first time I had felt the power in the sword.
“I could get used to this,” I told Seith, who appeared to take away my mail and sword for cleaning.
“Learning from Master Hamo?” he asked with an envious glance toward that man as another warrior entered the training ring.
“Using a sword.” I handed the Nightingale to him. “This one is awesome. It’s almost like it knows what to do without me directing it. I wonder if I could buy it from Ethan?”
Seith shrugged and trotted off to do his squirely duties. I limped to Ethan’s camp, which was bustling as usual. I was careful to peek around corners before I hurried toward my target tent, just in case Gregory hadn’t found Death’s minion.
“I suppose it’s a lost hope to expect that you’ve done as I asked and packed up?” I asked at the entrance to my mothers’ tent. They were, as I had expected, busily preparing some potion or other.
Both of them looked up, surprise on their faces. “Oh, Gwenny, it’s you again. Of course we’re not packed. We have no need to leave, as your mother and I have both told you. And keep your voice down. Mrs. Vanilla is taking a nap. The poor dear was most distraught after you left, and it took three cups of chamomile tea to settle her down.”
I took a deep breath, preparatory to explaining to my mothers yet again why I wasn’t comfortable with them remaining unguarded and at large, but suddenly a horrible clashing, grinding noise rose up over the chatting, barking, and other normal sounds of camp life.
“What the hell?” I spun around to pinpoint the source of the noise. My mothers rushed out with gentler exclamations.
The camp members nearest me froze in the act of attending to their daily business, and all heads swiveled to look across the stream toward Aaron’s camp. For one horrible moment I feared that some new catastrophe had struck us, but when the woman nearest me pointed and screamed, “It’s a mechanical monster! Flee! Flee the monster!” I knew what had really happened.
“It’s Aaron and his Velociphant. He must have gotten it working.”
“A Veloci-what?” Mom asked.
“This I have to see. Stay here!” I ordered my mothers before bolting painfully for the stream and Aaron’s camp.
“We aren’t going to miss something exciting,” Mom Two answered, and just as I knew they would, they trotted after me.
On the far side of Aaron’s camp, several men struggled with large wooden poles, obviously in the process of erecting a tent suitable for a king. To the side of them, the massive iron machine was surrounded by what appeared to be everybody in the entire camp, the warriors and squires and support people all cheering and shouting excitedly.
“Glory of the good green earth, what’s that?” Mom asked, pointing.
“That is Aaron’s answer to the war.” A thought struck me. “I guess, given the fact that Ethan’s people are all really trees in human form, you could say it was a glorified lawn mower. Aaron intends to use it on Ethan’s dudes.”
“This Aaron either is very stupid or has been misinformed,” Mom Two announced. “Lord Ethan’s warriors are magical beings, summoned from the spirits of the forest and field. No mere machine could destroy them.”
“I have to say that I hope so, despite wanting the war to end, because I kind of like Ethan and his wacky bunch. Except maybe that Holly . . . oh! Holly! You think she’s—”
“Of course she is,” Mom Two said, giving me a look that said I should have sussed out Holly’s origins long ago. “Didn’t you notice the green in her hair and her rather painful manner?”
“Yes, but I thought that was just her.”
“Oh, Gwenny.” Mom shook her head. “And we raised you to see all the possibilities . . .”
“Yes, well, I think a little slack can be granted due to the circumstances.” I craned my neck over the shoulder of the knight in front of me, wanting to get a better look at whether or not Constance had accompanied Aaron. If she had, I wanted badly to have a few words with her.
The crowd rippled, and several people gasped, sweeping us backward and to the side in a wave of bodies.
“What’s going on?” Mom said, hopping up and down in order to see over the wall of warriors in front of us. “Gwen, what do you see?”
“Nothing but helms and heads. Stick with me.” I grabbed my mother’s arm, and muttering apologies, pushed my way through the various bodies, finally emerging into the open.
“—and Lord Ethan wants to lodge a formal complaint about it,” Holly was saying to Aaron, who stood in front of the mechanical maw of his beast. “You sent a Traveller to attack us, and that is in clear violation of the agreement of 1717.”
“I did nothing of the kind. I hired a thief to take back what is mine, nothing more.” Aaron, a screwdriver in hand, was fussing with something on the foot of the giant mechanical beast.
Holly didn’t like being more or less ignored; she marched forward and grabbed Aaron by the arm, spinning him around so she could poke him in the chest. “Your so-called thief smote two of our men with lightning. That is against the terms of our agreement, and thus you have forfeited this war and must hand over control of Anwyn to me. Er . . . to Ethan.”
Aaron said a word that had my mothers gasping. I wanted to give him a thumb’s-up, but the sight of Constance strolling into the mix, followed by her cavalcade of white cats, drove that thought from my mind.
“What is going on here? Are we entertaining, husband?” Constance called out.
“Stop calling me that! We are not married. We have not been married since I found out what a devil you really are. The fact you should keep uppermost in your mind at all times is that I divorced you four hundred years ago, and you are only in Anwyn because your blasted herd of felines keeps the rodents under control.”
“Stay here out of trouble’s way,” I warned my mothers. “I want to have a word with the queen.”