Gertriss had managed to trim Buttercup’s fingernails. The banshee even wore a ring now. It was fashioned from a twist of yarn and the jewel was a gumdrop, but Buttercup showed it to me with the gravity of an heiress. Shoes were still a problem, Gertriss reported. Oh, the banshee would parade around in them for a few minutes, giggling and clapping, but she quickly lost interest and stepped out of them as soon as she spotted something shiny.
Lady Werewilk had met us underground. I stalled until we were assembled in the kitchen while I decided what to tell and what to hide and what the Hell we were going to do to prepare for a war that had the likes of Encorla Hisvin questioning his own mortality.
In the end, I’d spilled most of it. I hadn’t used Encorla’s name, didn’t mention that he’d laid the Faery Ring or had a long-time hand in Werewilk’s history. I didn’t mention alarkins or artifacts, although the Lady guessed right away that something old and sorcerous was involved.
And I’d told her about Buttercup. And the dagger.
I hadn’t wanted to tell that. But the Lady was my client. I don’t lie to my clients. Especially when Evis would have revealed all of it anyway, in my presence or outside it.
“So the banshee may be the key to all this?”
The Lady is good at keeping her face blank. I resolved never to play cards with her.
“She may be. I’m not convinced of that. Others are.”
“And that dagger has the power to kill her.”
I just nodded.
The Lady took a sip of coffee. “I will have no murder in this house,” she said. “Certainly not of my guests. Most especially not of poor wild creatures who have seldom known kindness. You need not fear for her, Finder. Like you, I refuse to spill innocent blood in the interest of expediency.”
I felt a knot loosen in my gut.
“I’m very glad to hear it, Lady. But in the interest of safety, I’ll volunteer to take the banshee out of your House myself. I think we could slip away, if we leave now.”
“You would die. It is too late for flight.”
Victor had spoken. His voice was dry and flat. Sara, seated beside him, nodded beneath her black hood.
“You managed to sneak past them.”
“I am a vampire. Even so, we moved ahead of them, not through them. You would die. There is no doubt.”
Darla squeezed my hand, which was already numb from being held and squeezed and clung to.
“Fine. No early morning hikes in the dew, then. I guess we get ready to fight.”
“They are many. They have siege engines. And sorcery.”
“We have some small sorcery of our own.” Lady Werewilk grinned. Marlo made frantic shushing noises.
“The time for secrecy has long since passed. I cannot simply stand by and watch my House be assaulted without employing every means of defense available.”
“You know the law,” began Marlo.
“The law is subject to interpretation,” said Evis, smoothly. “In fact, if Lady Werewilk were to engage in some minor acts of the arcane while in the employ of Avalante, I believe the likelihood of any legal action in the matter is quite low.”
“Practically nonexistent,” I added. “Hell. She might even rate a medal.”
“Indeed.” Evis allowed himself a tight-lipped smile, aware that his audience was human. “You may proceed without fear of prosecution, Lady. I speak for Avalante.”
The Lady rose.
“Oh, Lady Werewilk. One more thing. I quit.”
She laughed. “Now, Finder?”
“You hired me to find out who was surveying your land. I’ve told you as much as I can about them. No need for you to keep me on the payroll.”
“Fair enough. Marlo. Pay the man. I do hope you’ll accept my invitation to remain here, as my guest, until this is over.”
I nodded. “Thank you, Lady.”
She pushed back her chair and sailed from the room, Marlo close on her heels.
Evis sniffed the air. “I believe the biscuits are about to burn.”
“What would you know ’bout biscuits,” muttered Mama Hog.
“Enough not to burn them.”
“Oh hush, both of you.” Darla let go of my hand and rushed to the stove. I opened and closed my fingers a few times to make sure they still worked.
“Throw a couple of those on a plate, will you, Darla, my dear? Then bring them upstairs. I get terribly grumpy if I have to go to war without a nap first.”
“You’re gonna sleep, boy? Now?”
‘For an hour or so, Mama. Unless you can think of something better to do.”
“We can be a sharpenin’ blades and piling furniture against the doors.”
“We could start boiling water to pour down the trap doors, in case they find the tunnels,” added Evis.
Mama cackled. “Good idea, boy. I likes that one.”
Evis smiled. “Then you’ll love what I have in mind to put in jars that can be tossed from upstairs to the lawn,” he said.
“Lamp oil?”
Evis nodded. “With soap mixed in, to make it stick.”
Mama slapped him on the back. “I likes the way you think, boy.”
I hustled Darla out of there, before they started hugging.
Later, Darla and I watched the sunrise.
As sunrises go, it lacked spectacle. The window was so thick we could barely see through it in the first place. And then there were the trees, which drank up the sun as it climbed.
But some light crept through nonetheless. First came the dawn, red and slow, and it gave way to day. There was no warmth in it. No bird song, either. Just a pale grey light that seemed reluctant and shone cold.
Darla was at my side, leaning against me. Her hair was mussed and her eyes were red, but she was the most beautiful woman in the world.
I told her so. She smiled and called me a liar.
And then the first siege engine broke from the trees, and men came shouting with it.
Horses galloped into the Lady’s charred and unkempt lawn. There were more shouts. I could make out movement, but not detail. There came crashings and the neighing of horses, and then the chop-chop-chopping of axes biting into trees.
Darla regarded it with a sleepy sort of detached curiosity.
“They’re clearing the trees so the catapults can fire.”
“You know the very words to melt a girl’s heart.”
“That’s me, all right. Charming to the last.”
“Is this the last, Markhat?”
I forced a smile. “Not a chance, Missy. All they’ve got are catapults. The Corpsemaster has worse than that in his pajama pockets, and you know it.”
“Maybe. But if it is, I love you, Markhat.”
Masonry shattered, down below. The horsemen were using ropes to topple the ward statues.
“This is the part where you tell me you love me too,” said Darla.
“You know I do.”
“I don’t know anything unless you tell me.”
“I bought you velvet gloves for Yule. If that isn’t love, I don‘t know what is.”
She turned to face me.
“I am not going to die without hearing the words, Markhat. Give me that.”
Hammers joined the axes as the catapult began to take shape. Footfalls sounded beyond my door, rushing from the stairs and down the hall towards us.
“I love you, Darla Tomas. Happy now? There is an invading army forming up on the lawn, you know. They have a catapult. Did I mention they have a catapult?”
She smiled. “So we’ve established that I love you, and you love me. Agreed?”
“No arguments here.” Knocks fell on my door. Mama bellowed my name.
Darla didn’t let go when I made to turn away.
“When men type people and women type people fall in love, they often start setting certain dates.”
Mama, bless her heart, gave the door a shove and barged on in, bellowing and stomping.
“Boy! Wake up, damned if they ain’t about to start flingin’ rocks-”
Darla skipped away from me, a hint of triumph on her face. Mama blushed and shut up.