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“I don’t know. Locke has never said.”

I finished dressing and reached for my sword, but Aber shook his head. “Leave it,” he said. “Father doesn’t allow swords in his workroom.”

Shrugging, I did so. Ivinius’s impersonator was dead… there probably wouldn’t be another attempt on my life tonight. And walking around without a sword clearly showed my lack of fear… I couldn’t let my enemy or enemies know how much my nerves had been shaken.

“Lead on! “I said.

“Want to try a Trump down?” he asked suddenly.

“I thought you said—”

“Dad doesn’t like to use them. But I’ve made Trumps of every interesting room in the castle… and many of the uninteresting ones, too.” He chuckled. “Those can be even more useful, you know.”

“I can imagine. And I suppose you know an uninteresting one near Dad’s workshop?”

“There’s a cloakroom just off the main hall… and it’s about thirty feet from there to his workshop door.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. Much as I liked the idea of trying out some magic, this wasn’t the right time. “Juniper is huge. I’ll never get a feel for its layout if we jump around like spring hares. Let’s walk. That will give us a chance to get to know each other, and you can tell me about the castle as we go.”

“As you wish.” With a little shrug, he led the way out to the hall. “Those are my rooms,” he said, pointing to the double doors directly across from mine. “Then Davin’s to the left, then Mattus. Locke, Alanar, and Titus have the rooms to the right, and then Fenn and Taine and Conner opposite. Our sisters have the floor above.”

We started down a broad stone stairway, heading back toward the salon in which we’d had drinks earlier that afternoon. As we walked, servants quickly stepped aside to let us pass, bowing their heads. I thought I recognized a few from my last trip through here, and several of them called me “Lord Oberon” as we passed. Clearly news of my arrival was spreading.

I still regarded them with veiled suspicion. Any might be another hell-creature spy or assassin in human guise. And yet I couldn’t allow myself to become too fearful or paranoid. If Juniper had to be my home now, I would accept it, even if it came with a measure of danger. I couldn’t brood on Ivinius and the possibility of assassination attempts or the assassins would have won… they would rule me.

No, I vowed, I would ferret them out in due course. But I wouldn’t let them change how I lived my life—heartily, savoring the pleasures and passions.

Where to start, though? Best to get Aber talking, I decided. He might reveal more information about our family and the military situation here—what I needed most at this point was information. With so many soldiers stationed around Juniper, and hell-creatures infiltrating the castle, the war Freda had mentioned must be imminent.

I decided to start with a comfortable topic before working our way to more sensitive matters, something to loosen his natural reserve. What Freda had said about him in the horseless carriage came back to me: Aber the prankster, Aber the artist, Aber the distraction who could not be trusted to join us. Art seemed one of his main interests.

I said, “So, you make your own Trumps?” Most people enjoyed talking about themselves, and his talent for art seemed a natural place to begin.

“That’s right!” He grinned, and I knew my question pleased him. “Everyone says I inherited Dad’s artistic tendencies, just not his temperament. Apparently he used to make Trumps all the time when he was my age, but I don’t think he has in years. There are more interesting things, he keeps saying. He’s always got dozens of experiments going on in his workshop.”

Experiments? A workshop? I had never seen this side of Dworkin in Ilerium… or perhaps I’d been too young to notice.

“I’ve been impressed by everything he’s made,” I said. “That horseless carriage—”

He snorted derisively.

“You don’t like it?” I asked, bewildered. I’d found it the finest means of transportation I’d ever used, except perhaps horse and saddle.

“Not really,” he said. “It’s too slow, and you can’t see anything if you’re riding inside. I told him it should be open on top so passengers can take in the sights.”

“A good idea… until it rains!” I also thought of those monstrous bats, who could have swooped down on Freda and me had we been riding in the open.

“It never rains in Shadows unless you want it to.”

“I suppose,” I said nonchalantly, unwilling to expose my ignorance of exactly what Shadows were in the context of my new-found family.

We turned down another hallway, heading away from the salon. The topic changed back to Juniper Castle—the fastest way to get to the kitchens, where to find guard stations on this level (which also housed the weapons room, the main dining hall, and even the servants’ quarters)—so many places and directions that my head swam. I didn’t think I would be able to find any of them on my own.

Finally we reached a short windowless corridor. Two guards posted at its mouth held pikes. Down the corridor, small oil lamps set in wall sconces revealed plain stone walls and a red-and-white checkerboard slate floor. They didn’t challenge us, but nodded to Aber as if expecting him.

We went up the corridor in silence and halted at the heavy oak door at its end. The hinges were thick iron bands. It would have taken a battering ram to get through.

“Look,” Aber said softly, giving a quick glance back at the guards. We were clearly out of earshot, and he kept his voice low. “There’s one more thing I should tell you about your family. We’re all on our best behavior now, with war coming. But it won’t last. It never does. You’ll going to have to choose sides, and choose soon. Freda likes you, which counts for a lot as far as I’m concerned. I hope you’ll throw in with us.”

I paused to digest this.

“It’s you and Freda and Pella?” I guessed at one faction.

“Yes.”

“And the others… Davin and Locke, of course.”

He pulled a sour face. “The boors stick together. Yes. Locke and Davin—and also Fenn and Isadora, the warrior-bitch from hell.”

I arched my eyebrows at that description.

“You haven’t met her yet,” he said with an unapologetic laugh. “You’ll see exactly what I mean when you do. Be warned, though—tell one of them anything and they’ll all hear it. But none of them will ever act unless Locke says so.”

“What about Blaise?” I said.

He gave a dismissive wave. “She’s got her own interests. For now, she’s too busy seducing army officers and playing court with Leona and Syara—I don’t think you’ve met them yet, have you?—to be a real concern to anyone but Dad, who generally disapproves but doesn’t know how to tell her to grow up. She wants to wield power inside Juniper, but she doesn’t have any way to support her ambitions. Of all our family, she’s probably the most harmless… or least harmful might be a better way of putting it.”

“I’m sure she’d be hurt if she heard you’d said that!”

Aber clapped me on the shoulder. “Right you are! So keep it between the two of us, okay? If something terrible happens and she does end up running everything, I still want to be on her good side.”

“How… politic of you.”

“I would have said self-serving.”

I had to laugh at that. “Don’t worry, I know when to keep my mouth shut.” I glanced at him sidewise. “I’m a soldier, you know. What makes you think I won’t throw in with Locke? After all, he and I seem to have the most in common.”

“The fact that you’re asking means you’ve already decided not to.”

“It never hurts to know all your options. And Locke would seem to be a good one.”

He hesitated. “I’ll probably regret saying it, but… I like you, Oberon. I know it sounds simple-minded, but it’s the truth. I don’t know why, but I’ve liked you since the moment we met. You’re not like anyone else in our family.”