"And the King has not called for you once since my attack." Harperus pursed his lips unhappily. "He was displeased by Nightingale? Or is he displeased with your performances?"
"Not at all," T'fyrr replied bitterly. "He made a point of thanking her for coming the day after you were attacked. No, the reason is that he has a new toy to intrigue him; I am no longer a novelty. I have been subverted, it seems, by my good friend Lord Atrovel."
Harperus raised an eyebrow. "I had heard nothing of this," he said. "What new toy? And I thought Lord Atrovel liked you!"
T'fyrr sighed and flexed his feet again. "He does_but he cannot resist a challenge, and the head of the Manufactory Guild set him one. Do you recall that box of yours that plays music? The one that Theovere has hinted he would like?"
"The one that we will not give him because taking it apart would give these people too many secrets we do not want them to have?" Harperus responded. "Only too well. Why? What of it?"
"That is what Lord Atrovel was challenged to reproduce," T'fyrr told his friend sourly. "And he did it, too."
As Harperus' eyebrows shot toward his hairline, T'fyrr amended the statement. "It is not a recording device, nor is it small enough to sit on a table. It would fill_oh, a quarter of the room here. It is entirely mechanical, mostly of clockwork so far as I can tell, entirely human-made, and requires a page to push pedals with his feet, around and around, to power it." He brooded on his mechanical rival. "I suppose it is a kind of superior music-box. It has more than one instrument though, and three puppets to simulate playing them. There is an enameled bird_much prettier than I_that 'sings' the tunes, accompanied by a puppet harpist, flute player, and a puppet that plays an instrument made of tuned bells. It is all instrumental, of course_which means no awkward lyrics to remind Theovere of much of anything."
"You've seen it, then?" Harperus asked.
"How not? It was presented in open Court two days after your injury, with more ceremony than you made with me." T'fyrr stopped flexing his feet; he was cutting gouges in the floor. "It plays exactly one hundred of Theovere's favorite songs, which he can select at will."
Harperus looked impressed in spite of himself. "I had not thought they had that much ability."
T'fyrr only ground his beak. "It was pointedly said during the presentation that the device will always play exactly whatever song is desired, and play it in precisely the same way, every single time. This, I suppose, to contrast it with me, who may not cooperate in the choice of music, who sometimes sings things that make Theovere uncomfortable, and who never sings the same song in the same way twice in a row."
Harperus pondered the implications of that. "Theovere may be tiring of the novelty of working against his Advisors; he may be recalling that responsibility is work."
"And he may be weary of hearing me sing about those who take their responsibilities seriously." T'fyrr sighed. "I did not want to tell you about this, but since Theovere still seems enamored with his toy, I am afraid that I have been supplanted for the foreseeable future. I have not precisely been demoted from my rank, but I am no longer a novelty even with Nightingale to accompany me. I have not been called for in more than a week."
Harperus rubbed his temple for a moment, his face creased with worry. "I am not certain that I care for the timing of all this. Within a day of the attacks on both of us, the Manufactory Guild presents Theovere with a new toy? Does that indicate anything rather nasty to you?"
"That they thought either one or both of us might be removed from play and had their own distraction ready?" T'fyrr countered. "Of course it occurred to me. It could simply be good timing on their part, however_or they could have been holding this toy back, waiting for the best opportunity to present it. There is no point in assuming a conspiracy_but there is no point in discounting one, either. I wish that you were in place to collect Court gossip. It would be nice to know one way or another."
Harperus picked fretfully at the comforter covering his body. "And here I am, incapacitated. Trust me, Tyladen is doing all he can; he has responsibilities you are not aware of. He is not a coward, he simply cannot do his job and mine as well."
"I will believe it if you say it," T'fyrr told him finally. "Though I doubt you would get Nightingale to believe it; she is not terribly fond of Tyladen and has called him a spider sitting snug in a safe web more than once. I am not sure she cares for Deliambrens at all, right now; Tyladen hasn't done much about the troubles in Lyonarie, either. I have more bad news from outside the Palace, I am afraid. There is more unrest in the city. The situation is deteriorating for nonhumans: more beatings, slogans written on the walls of nonhuman homes and businesses, vandalism, gang ambushes outside Freehold."
"More attacks?" Harperus started to get up, and fell back against his pillows again, turning a stark white. "Damn!" he swore, with uncharacteristic vehemence. "Why must I be confined to my bed at a time like this?"
T'fyrr only shook his head. "I have been spending more and more time in Freehold with Nightingale. We have been trying to do what we can with the tools at our disposal. At least there we can do some good; our music is heard, and the message in it."
"You are preaching to the choir," Harperus reminded him. "No one goes into Freehold that is not on the side of the nonhumans."
T'fyrr could not reply to that; he knew only too well that it was true. But the message he and Nightingale were placing in their music was a complicated one, and one he thought would have some effect on those who might otherwise not take a stand but would rather stand aside. He hoped, anyway. There were plenty of those, visitors to Freehold out of curiosity, or those who only came occasionally.
It may be that what they need is a leader, and one has not stepped forward thus far. I had hoped Tyladen would be that leader, but I fear he is a weak branch to land that eyas on. Harperus would, but he is not physically able. Which leaves_us. I could do with a better prospect.
"I must go," he said finally. "I'll probably be staying there tonight again. It's safer than flying back, even after dark. I'll tell Nob to come here and help you, as usual."
At least Nob would be safer with Harperus than alone in T'fyrr's suite, especially now that Harperus had raided his traveling-wagon for more protective devices. Tyladen had actually ventured out of Freehold to fetch the mechanisms and to set them up in Harperus' room_while Old Owl was well enough in mind and spirit after his ordeal, he needed someone to look after him. So Nob could be useful and protected by staying with the Deliambren. Right now, T'fyrr would be much happier if he were working alone_but since that was impossible, better to get those who were not flying the attack under cover of the trees.
"Thank you," Harperus said with real gratitude. "The boy is an endless help. I'm thinking of checking where he came from and offering to purchase his services if he hasn't any parents about. We can use young humans like him in the Fortress-City."