the time nobody believes me!”
I gave a snort. “That’s what the best liars say.”
“You don’t know me well enough to say that. Give me the benefit of the doubt, Oberon.”
“Very well—explain to me again how you got in here.”
“I used that Trump of your bedroom,” he said solemnly, indicating the one I’d put in the box. “I left Dad in his study just a minute ago. Which reminds me, I’m here because he wants to see you. So you’d better hurry up. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
I had to smile. “Some things never change.”
Throughout my childhood, Dworkin had hated waiting for anything, from lines at the baker’s to finishing my penmanship lessons so we could get on to more important things, like swordplay and military tactics.
“So,” I went on, “if I concentrated on Dad’s card right now, he’d pull me into his study? Just like that?” I’d never be able to master such a trick, I thought. It sounded impossibly hard, somehow.
“Sure. But I wouldn’t do it with Dad, ever, unless you haven’t any other choice… he doesn’t like to be distracted when he’s working. Sometimes he has delicate experiments going on, and if you accidentally mess one up… well, let’s just say he has quite a temper.”
“Thanks for the warning,” I said. I knew what he meant about our father’s temper, all right. Once in the marketplace, when a soldier twice his size had insulted my mother, Dworkin had beaten the fool senseless with his bare hands. It had taken four of the city watch to drag him away, or he surely would have killed the fellow. I hadn’t seen him that angry very often, but it was a terrible thing to behold.
Some things, it seemed, never changed.
“Let me finish getting ready,” I said, turning back to the mirror and picking up the razor. “Then maybe you can show me the way down.”
“Sure, glad to.”
“Anari was supposed to find me some clothes. Maybe you can hurry him up.”
“What about those?” He pointed through my bedroom door, and to my amazement I saw brown hose, a green shirt, and undergarments laid out on the chair next to the bed where I’d been sleeping.
“I must be going blind,” I said, shaking my head. “I would’ve sworn they weren’t there five minutes ago!”
He chuckled. “Okay, you caught me. I put them there. After I saw Dad, I went to my room first to pick up your set of Trumps. Ivinius was in the hall, and I told him to let you know I’d bring in some clothes for you. I guess he forgot to mention it.”
I laughed with relief. “So I’m not crazy!”
“No… at least, I hope not! Say, why didn’t you let him shave you?”
“The way his hands were shaking? Never!”
“Well, he is getting old.” He gave an apologetic shrug. “Someone ought to tell Anari to find us a new barber.”
“I think that would be a good idea. I wouldn’t want to have my throat cut.”
I finished shaving quickly. All the while I studied my brother. He stood by the window, gazing out across the castle grounds. He didn’t seem at all surprised at finding me alive. If anything, he seemed to like my company; I thought he must be lonely. It was easy to rule him out as a suspect in a conspiracy to have me killed—you didn’t kill friends, especially ones with as little power here as I had.
And that, I thought, made him my first potential ally.
I splashed water on my face, then toweled dry. Not the best job, I thought, studying my reflection and rubbing my chin, but it would do for now. I’d get a haircut tomorrow, if I could find a real barber.
I began to dress quickly. Anari had a good eye for clothes; these fit me almost perfectly. A tiny bit too narrow in the shoulders, a little too wide in the waist, but with a belt, they would do nicely.
“You look a bit like him,” Aber said suddenly as I pulled on my boots.
“Who?”
“Taine. Those are his clothes.”
Taine… another of my missing half-brothers. I studied my reflection more critically… yes, I thought, dressed in his colors, I looked a lot like him in his Trump.
I said, “Freda thinks Taine is dead. Do you?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. He has Dad’s temper, and he left after a fight with Locke. I suppose he could be off somewhere, brooding and planning his revenge.”
“What did they fight about?”
“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:
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.”
