'And you believe they are needed.'
'It requires a certain type of person to do the work that must now be done. And I know that you are exactly that sort of person.'
'I?' said Silverdun. 'The `rude villein' whose most recent distinction was being the first monk in history ever to be given the sack?'
Paet smiled at Everess. Under the squint, which appeared to be a permanent feature, the smile looked rueful, whether it was or not. 'He makes a fair case against himself, Everess. Perhaps he's not the man you thought.'
'Yes he is,' said Everess, who had developed his own squint now. Silverdun had a feeling this wasn't a good thing. 'And despite his endless protestations, he knows it. He only needs to realize it.'
'So, what? You want me to become the new Shadow? Take over from Paet here?'
'No,' said Everess. 'You're going to lead a small team of Shadows. The group is being re-formed. Chief Paet here runs the day-to-day affairs of the Information Division. You'll be the lead Shadow.'
'You want me to work for him?' said Silverdun, incredulous.
'You need him,' said Everess.
'More than you can possibly know,' said Paet.
Silverdun scowled. 'Are you always this ... ominous?'
Paet tapped his cane on the ground. 'You'll be hearing from me shortly,' he said.
Silverdun and Everess watched him leave. Silverdun blinked, and that same odd trick of the eye occurred, foreground into background, and Paet was gone.
'Interesting fellow, isn't he?' said Everess, once he'd vanished.
'I can't say I'm in love.'
Everess chuckled. 'Give him time. Paet's a good man. His experience has made him what he is. All for the love of Seelie. The Seelie Heart; isn't that what Mauritane called it?'
'Mauritane excels at convincing others to fling themselves at death in the service of abstractions.' Silverdun sighed. 'You're not helping your cause.'
'This is good work,' said Everess. 'We need you. And let's be frank. You need us.'
A remark leapt to Silverdun's lips, but he suppressed it. Perhaps if he stopped arguing the point, Everess would shut up about it.
'Tell me this, Everess,' said Silverdun, quiet. 'Was I chosen for this because of my strengths or because of my ability to get intelligence from the Arcadians?'
'I never do anything for only one reason,' said Everess. 'Either way, it's time for you to stop pissing around and get to work.'
Silverdun wanted to disagree, but couldn't.
'You're mad,' said the goat, hopping up and down. 'I am indeed,' the bear replied.'But there is strength in madness.'
from The Goat and the Bear,'' Seelie fable
he Copperine House sat on an estate nearly a day's ride outside the City Emerald, set back from the Mechesyl Road, just beyond a small ridge dotted with spruce and fir trees. This was the beginning of the Western Valley, where the high mountaintops held snow year-round, and the evergreens were the only trees that grew. Here, though, the conifers mixed in with deciduous life, speckling the landscape with points of darkness in a world of color.
The house was relatively new, less than three hundred years old. It had been donated by the sixtieth Lady Copperine after the unfortunate incident that claimed both her son's life and the lives of the twelve others in the cafe with him when he'd lost control of his Gift of Elements and turned them all into sand, including himself. The incident was hushed up by the Royal Guard, a fire set, and the heir apparent to the Copperine title was mourned appropriately. Devastated, his mother donated the family estate to the Crown, with the explicit instructions that it be used to prevent other such tragedies. Once her affairs were settled, Lady Copperine drank poison and joined her son in death.
The house itself was large and rambling, having been added on to and spellturned rather haphazardly in its day. The unfortunate lady's great uncle had been something of an amateur turner and had made a number of ques tionable choices regarding the estate's architectural layout. Now the house was three times as large as it had been when built, though there were rooms in it that had been lost forever. The residents of Copperine House had it that an unlucky niece had been inside one of the lost rooms when it was badly turned, and haunted the building into the present day.
